stop. Cassie noticed the black car behind them also stopped. It then made a sharp U-turn and headed back to the main road.
Weird, she thought.
At first no one answered her knock, but then Cassie saw Constance's gray head of hair appear in the front window.
She waved her birdlike hand at Cassie and then opened the door.
"Are you here to see Melanie?" she asked. "She's not home from school yet."
"Actually, Aunt Constance, I came to talk to you."
"Uh-oh. What's wrong?" She led Cassie across the spotless hardwood floor to the parlor, where she'd been having tea.
Cassie had grown quite comfortable in this house since her mother had stayed there when she was ill. It was similar to Cassie's own home, but in much better shape. The walls were freshly painted, the silver was polished to a shine, and there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. The parlor smelled like the oill soap used to clean wood.
Constance refilled her will ow-patterned teacup and poured a cup for Cassie. Then she sat back in her large rocking chair. "What's on your mind?" she asked.
"Nothing, really," Cassie said. "I guess I just came to ask your advice."
"About what?" Constance was thin and regal, but she looked almost childlike, rocking back and forth in her chair.
"I've been feeling kind of uneasy lately," Cassie said.
Constance stopped the rocking and rested her feet flat on the floor. "You'll have to be more specific if advice is what you want, dear."
"Believe it or not, I'm really trying." Cassie set her teacup down. "I guess part of it is that I know I should be happy.
The Circle defeated Black John, and my mother is well again. And I have Adam, who loves me very much."
"But?"
"But I can't seem to relax." Cassie leaned in close to Constance and began speaking more softly. "Like today, when our new principal was introduced. I started to feel all shaky, right there at the assembly. I know it wasn't about him, but how do I know, or how can I tell. . . . Oh, I don't know."
"How can you tell the difference between instinct and anxiety?" Constance smiled.
Cassie nodded.
"There's only one way," Constance said. "Years of practice. That's one of the biggest challenges of having the sight."
She leaned back in her chair and appeared lost in her own thoughts for a moment. Then her thin red lips formed a smile.
"Your grandmother was the same way," she said. "What you call nervous. If you only knew how many times she woke me up from a sound sleep, crying about a bad omen that turned out to be indigestion."
Constance started laughing so hard, tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She reached for a tissue and patted them away before she went on. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make light of it. But it'll get easier with time, Cassie, you can be sure of that."
"So what you're saying is there's no magic way to know for sure who's good and who's evil, no spell to test the principal's true nature?"
Constance resisted the urge to start laughing again.
"Honey, if only that spell did exist, it would have been the first one I showed you." She looked at Cassie lovingly.
"Unfortunately, there's no shortcut to peace of mind." When Cassie made no reply, wrinkled lines appeared between Constance's eyebrows. "Practice your daily meditations and your invocations," she said. "Cultivate tranquility as best you can."
It was simple advice, but Cassie left Constance's house feeling just a little bit lighter.
Chapter 5
When Cassie arrived at Old Town Hall, the sun was shining down on the carnival as booths and tables were being set up for the evening's festivities. She searched for her mom among the volunteers so she could help her put up the decorations they'd finally finished making late last night.
Old Town Hall was one of the earliest municipal buildings in New Salem. When it had been in use, it housed all the town's federal offices. The surrounding area was designed to be an outdoor market, but these days it was mostly used as a public art space and, of course, to host yearly spring and fall festivals.
"Hey, Cassie." Laurel appeared carrying a tray of tulip bulbs that was nearly twice her size. She dropped it onto a nearby table and waved a few sweaty strands of hair away from her pixielike face. "Are you psyched for tonight's festival?"
"Sure," Cassie said unconvincingly.
"Well, you should be," Laurel said. "The spring equinox is important to us as witches." She