The Initiation Page 0,51

called Salem. And it was just filled with quaint little Puritans - all-American, hardworking, honest, brave, and true - "

"Faye - "

"Just like some people here we all know," Faye said, undisturbed by the interruption. She stood, switching her glorious black mane behind her, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. The ocean, with its endlessly breaking waves, formed a perfect background as she began to pace back and forth, her black silk blouse sliding down just far enough to leave one shoulder bare.

"These Puritans were filled with pure little thoughts - most of them. A few just may have been unhappy with their boring little Puritan lives, all work, no play, dresses up to here" - she indicated her neck - "and six hours of church on Sundays..."

"Faye," said Diana.

Faye ignored her. "And the neighbors," she said. "All those neighbors who watched you, gossiped about you, monitored you to make sure you weren't wearing an extra button on your dress or smiling on your way to meeting. You had to be meek in those days, and keep your eyes down, and do as you were told without asking questions. If you were a girl, anyway. You weren't even allowed to play with dolls because they were things of the devil."

Cassie, fascinated despite herself, watched Faye pacing and thought again of jungle cats. Caged ones. If Faye had lived in those days, Cassie thought, she would have been quite a handful.

"And maybe some of those young girls weren't so happy," Faye said. "Who knows? But anyway, one winter a few of them got together to tell fortunes. They shouldn't have, of course. It was wicked. But they did it anyway. One of them had a slave who came from the West Indies and knew about fortune-telling. It helped to while away those long, dull winter nights." She glanced sideways under black lashes toward Nick, as if to say that she could have suggested a better way herself.

"But it preyed on their poor little Puritan minds," Faye went on, looking sorrowful. "They felt guilty. And eventually one of them had a nervous collapse. She got sick, delirious, and she confessed. Then the secret was out. And all the other young girls were on the hot seat. It wasn't good in those days to get caught fooling around with the supernatural. The grown-ups didn't like it. So the poor little Puritan girls had to point the finger at somebody else."

Faye held up her own long, tapering, scarlet-tipped finger, trailing it across the seated group like a gun. She stopped in front of Cassie.

Cassie looked at it, then up into Faye's eyes.

"And they did," Faye said pleasantly. She withdrew the finger as if sheathing a sword, and went on. "They pointed at the West Indian slave, and then at a couple of other old women they didn't like. Women with a bad reputation around the village. And when they pointed, they said..." She paused for dramatic effect, and tipped her face up to the crescent moon hanging in the sky. Then she looked back at Cassie. "They said... witch."

A ripple went through the group, of agitation, bitter amusement, exasperation. Heads were shaking in disgust. Cassie felt the hairs at the back of her neck tingle.

"And do you know what?" Faye looked over her audience, holding them all spellbound. Then she smiled, slowly, and whispered, "It worked. Nobody blamed them for their little fortune-telling games. Everyone was too busy hunting out the witches in their midst. The only problem," Faye continued, her black eyebrows now raised in scorn, "was that those Puritans couldn't recognize a witch if they fell over one. They looked for women who were offbeat, or too independent, or... rich. Convicted witches forfeited their worldly goods, so it could be quite a profitable business to accuse them. But all the while the real witches were right there under their noses.

"Because, you see," Faye said softly, "there really were witches at Salem. Not the poor women - and men - they accused. They didn't even get one right. But the witches were there, and they didn't like what was happening. It hit a little too close to home. A few of them even tried to stop the witch trials - but that only tended to arouse suspicion. It was too dangerous even to be a friend of one of the prisoners."

She stopped, and there was a silence. The faces surrounding Cassie now were not amused, but cold and angry. As if this