The Divide Page 0,60

in Cape Cod. The Tools themselves seemed to react to the setting all on their own.

Cassie could swear they were warming to her body, growing hotter by the second as she followed the course she'd mapped out to Hawthorne Street.

She should have a plan of attack, she realized, for when she encountered the hunters. She knew the witch-hunter curse by heart, and the Tools would surely come to her aid, but now that the reality of the situation was setting in, questions began to form in Cassie's mind. She didn't know how many hunters there would be. Was there a limit to how many she could take down with the one curse? And what if Scarlett was in even worse shape when she arrived than in Cassie's dream? There was a fear lurking in the back of Cassie's mind that Scarlett could have already been killed.

Again, Cassie felt for the chalcedony rose. But even with the crystal's comfort, when the house at 48 Hawthorne Street came into view, her whole being flooded with fear. It was just as she'd imagined it in her nightmares, identical to the image that came to her during the location spell. It was a broken-down beach cottage with driftwood-gray siding, and it was near the end of a long, desolate, sandy lane, with a large body of water on one side and tidal marshes on the other. There was no other house in sight.

The terrible feeling in Cassie's gut grew. The acid from her stomach crept up her throat, filling her mouth with a sickening taste. Every inch of her body screamed for her to turn around and drive back home. But she knew she couldn't allow her fear to get the best of her now. Not when she'd come this far.

With determination, she got out of the car and treaded across the long grass toward the house, but after only a few steps she froze. She tried to continue forward and couldn't.

There was some kind of magical barrier protecting the house's perimeter, similar to the one Faye used to guard the hidden garter. But that would be easy enough for Cassie to penetrate while wearing the Tools. She touched each relic individually, adjusting them into place, and silently called on their collective power. It wasn't her imagination, the Tools did feel hot to her touch, she was sure of it.

"Be now dissolved, powerful shield!" Her voice left her throat sounding deep and gravelly as she sent all of her energy toward the house. She focused hard and said the words again, this time pushing with her mind until she felt the power of the Tools rush out of her like a blistering heat.

The spell seemed to work at once. The dark cloud perched over the house cleared, and the guarding force at the property's perimeter disappeared. The relics are really working, Cassie thought to herself. Scarlett was as good as saved.

Without delay, she continued forward unhindered.

Practicing the witch-hunter curse in her mind, she walked slowly and carefully in a state of deep meditation toward the house.

When she was inches away from the front door, she could see it was windblown and water-damaged, rotted to a softness no wood should be. And the foundation of the house creaked and rattled in the wind, like it could come crashing down at any moment. It occurred to Cassie to try some kind of protection spell on herself before entering, or maybe another silence spell to assist her in sneaking into the house. But then she thought better of it. She would step inside just as she was, no cowardly tricks, no sleight of hand. The Tools were the only power she needed.

Cassie listened for voices but heard none. In the eerie silence, the fear that Scarlett had already been killed raced through her mind. An image of her dead body hanging from the ceiling, swinging back and forth, like the arm of a clock

- tick tock, tick tock - haunted Cassie. But she couldn't step through this door with the slightest bit of distraction.

She'd have seconds to cast the curse, less than that in fact.

Cast the curse, rescue Scarlett, and then get the heck out of there. That was the plan.

Carefully, Cassie placed her hand upon the rotted softness of the door. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. In fact, it didn't even appear to be fully closed. She pushed on its damp surface gently with the palm of her hand, and it swept open effortlessly.