At the hour of midnight
ACCORDING TO THE CLOCK ON TOP OF THE Lickin Creek National Bank, it was half past eleven. I was alone on the dark streets; the bad weather had forced even the local teenagers off the “peanut circuit,” their Saturday-night party route around the downtown area on its confusing one-way streets. From what I'd read at the library, I was pretty sure the coven would meet at midnight. I hoped I was right.
A block away from the old cold-storage building, I parked and walked the rest of the way, staying close to the deserted buildings to keep from being seen. That was an unnecessary precaution, for there wasn't a soul around. It was too cold for anyone to be out, a fact I was really beginning to appreciate. I pulled up the hood of the floor-length black velvet evening cape I'd found in Ethelind's hall closet and put my head down against the wind.
When I reached the parking lot, I paused for a moment in the shadow of a pine tree, knowing I was damn near invisible in my black getup: cape, slacks, sweater, gloves, and even blackface, for I'd burned a cork and smeared its soot all over my cheeks just as I'd seen someone do in a movie. I could see no lights, but that didn't mean anything because the windows were all boarded up. There were a few cars there, and one of them I recognized as Cassie's BMW. It looked like I'd guessed right about the meeting time.
I crouched over and stepped forward.
Something grabbed my ankle and held on. I tumbled to my knees and was face-to-face with Lickin Creek's best-known homeless man, the notorious Big Bad Bob. He'd lived on the streets for years and constantly refused any and all offers of shelter, even on nights like this.
“Let me go,” I whispered, trying to pull away from him. I wasn't afraid, because Bob was neither big nor bad, and he'd never harmed anybody but himself. His body odor, though, was enough to asphyxiate a skunk.
He stared intently at my face, then said, “Hey, Miz Miracle. Damn near didn't recognize you with that dirt all over your face. You one of them witches?” He lisped his question, due to the absence of all but his incisor teeth. With his wide face, low brow, receding chin, glassy eyes, and fanglike teeth, I thought he resembled a well-fed python.
“Not really,” I said softly. I turned my face to the side to avoid his foul breath and asked, “Are they inside?”
“Yeah. Bet you'uns is writing a newspaper article 'bout them, ain't you?”
“Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. So if you'll just let go of my ankle, I'll be on about my business.”
“You want me to come with you? I can take care of you if they try to hurt you.”
“Good God, no! I mean no, thank you. There's nothing to be afraid of.”
He released my leg, then put his face very close to mine and rasped, “I done hear they kill babies and drink their blood.”
I scrambled to my feet and shot across the parking lot before he could share any more local folklore with me.
Thanks to Stanley Roadcap, this time I knew where the safe entrance to the building was located. The door was unlocked, and with one last glance around to make sure I was unobserved, I slipped inside.
It was reassuring to feel the solid concrete stairs beneath my feet as I slowly made my way up through the heart of the building. Although I'd brought a flashlight with me, I didn't dare turn it on, so I groped along in the darkness. From above, I heard music. A harp. It sounded more heavenly than sinister.
I reassured myself that I had nothing to fear. After all, these people were just local women who happened to have some rather unorthodox beliefs. One of them was my own employee, Cassie. There was absolutely no reason for them to harm me. So why was I sneaking in when Cassie probably would have invited me to come if I'd asked? Because, I told myself, if they knew they were being observed by an outsider they might do things differently. This way I'd learn how they really celebrated the winter solstice.
Up ahead flickered a dim orange glow. I moved silently through the open doorway at the top of the stairs and ducked behind a post. It was pitch-black here on the edge of the large room, and I knew the people around the altar in the center of it would not be able to see me. From my position behind the pillar, with my black hood nearly covering my face, I was in the perfect position to observe everything that went on.
About a dozen women, in long white gowns, held hands in a circle, while another sat on a stool and strummed a Celtic harp. Their faces were lit by the black candles on the altar, but I was too far away to identify any of them.
As the last chord of the melody I recognized from the Irish musical production Riverdance faded away, one woman stepped into the center of the circle, raised her arms over her head, and began a melancholy chant. I immediately recognized Cassie.
She stepped outside the circle of women, and began to walk clockwise around then, her arm outstretched, one finger pointing to the floor. Four times she stopped to chant words I couldn't hear, then moved back to the center of the circle and raised her arms. “Sisters, we stand between the worlds, where darkness and light, birth and death, love and hate, meet as one. Under the Cold Moon, we have aligned ourselves with the Goddess to celebrate the sabbat of the winter solstice.” After some arm waving in the direction of the women, Cassie stamped the floor with one foot and called out, “As above, so below-this circle is sealed.”
One after another, four women in the circle murmured something I couldn't catch. I edged forward a little closer, knowing I was still in the shadows.
“I, your priestess and witch, do call upon our blessed Lady of the Moon. Descend upon me now.” A candle flared on the altar behind her, and Cassie's whole body seemed to glow from within. “I am the Maiden, I am the Great Mother. I am the Crone. I am Mystery, but I am known to all.” Cassie lowered her arms and held them out as if embracing everyone in the circle.
“Tonight we will say good-bye to our dear sister Ber-nice and assist her on her voyage to Summerland.”
“To Summerland.” A bell rang three times.
“There she will rest, till she returns.”
“Rest and return.” More bells.
Cassie pulled something from the purple cord that circled her waist and held it above her head, where it glittered in the flickering candlelight. “Hold your athames high, my sisters, and send your energy through them to our beloved sister Bernice.”
Now, I recognized the shiny articles all the women held as ceremonial daggers.
She began to chant again. “As the Moon waxes and wanes, so do the seasons flow, and so do we move from death to rebirth.” The others joined in. The room filled with the eerie sound of panpipes. The heavy odor of the sandalwood incense burned my eyes and made them heavy. My vision became blurry, and I blinked my eyes several times trying to clear them. I wondered what was going to happen next.
“Dance!” Cassie cried. “Dance and raise the Cone of Power!”
One of the women accompanied the harpist on a small drum that resembled the bongo played by Desi on I Love Lucy. The rhythmical drumbeat was strong and hypnotic. On a bamboo flute, another woman played a haunting melody that wove in and out of the drumming. As I watched the women circle the altar, it became difficult to keep my eyes focused. I wanted to get out. To leave them alone with their ritual. This was a private place, and I didn't belong here.
I suddenly realized the huge room had fallen silent. The women had broken their circle and were looking in my direction. I knew there was no way they could see me, but even as I thought that I knew somehow they could. I turned to flee, and someone grabbed me around my waist. I screamed, pulled free, and ran toward the exit, but the door had closed, and I couldn't find it in the darkness. I crashed into the cold brick wall, almost knocking myself out.
Behind me, someone shouted “Get him,” and I ran, as fast as I could, with one hand on the wall, hoping, praying, to find a way out before I was caught. At last, I reached an opening. I charged through it and down the stairs as fast as I could run, only to realize, too late, that I was on the rickety staircase I'd been warned about yesterday.
Above me, someone screamed. The staircase began to shake and groan. I clutched at the railing as if hanging on to it would save me. The whole thing leaned to my right, swayed back, then leaned again. With a terrifying screech, it pulled away from the wall in slow motion. As it started to drop, I had the presence of mind to fling myself off the steps before I could become entangled in the twisted metal. I plunged through the black air forever, although in retrospect it was probably only a second or two, and heard a scream that I recognized as my own. It was cut short when I hit the icy water and my mouth filled with water.
Down I went. Down into the frigid water. I held my breath as long as I could, until, at last, my feet touched the bottom. I pushed off with all my might and shot back up. Just as I thought my lungs were going to burst, I surfaced and gulped a mouthful of air and water.
A flashlight beam played the surface, then shined directly in my eyes. I couldn't see who was behind it. Something whacked me on the side of my head, and I again slipped beneath the surface.
I came up spluttering, and heard someone yell, “Can you see him?”
“Here,” I gurgled.
The flashlight swung around. “There he is. See if you can reach him with that pole.”
This time I ducked when the thing came round.
“Grab on,” a voice called out. “We'll pull you in.”
I already had a tight grip on it. “Got it,” I yelled.
I was pulled rapidly through the water until I bumped into a solid wall. I could see by the glow of the flashlight that the landing was several feet above my head. Many hands reached down, took hold of my clothing, and tugged. Everything I had on was so heavily waterlogged, I thought I'd never be able to get out, but they finally managed to drag me onto the landing, painfully scraping my stomach in the process.
I gasped and choked, facedown on the cold pavement, until someone rolled me over and held a flashlight close to my face.
“Good grief, it's Tori Miracle,” came Cassie's familiar voice. When she stopped shining the light in my eyes, I was able to see a dozen angels in white gowns and one creepy-looking python staring down at me.
I struggled to a sitting position. Cassie knelt down beside me and supported me with an arm. “What on earth are you doing here?” she asked. “We thought you were one of those teenagers that break in to smoke pot. You're sure lucky. If we'd had a gun, you could be dead.”
“Real lucky,” I said ruefully. “I'm half-drowned.” It was all I could do to say that much through my chattering teeth.
“We've got to get you out of those freezing things and into some dry clothes,” Cassie said. “Can you walk?”
With some help, I stood.
The python stepped out of the angel circle, and was transformed back into Big Bad Bob. “I'm sorry I scared you, miss.”
“Go away, Bob,” Cassie said, not unpleasantly. “You know you aren't allowed in here.”
“I was only trying to make sure she was okay.”
“She is. Now go.”
He looked at me as if asking permission, so I said, “It's all right, Bob.” Satanic rituals and baby blood didn't seem nearly as dangerous as sitting around in my soggy, freezing clothes.
With one last worried look, Big Bad Bob disappeared into the shadows.
Cassie and her friends led me up the safe staircase and into a small room adjoining the large hall where they held their meeting. Cassie handed me a soft heap of white silk. “Take off those wet things,” she commanded, “and put this on.”
She discreetly turned her back while I stripped. As I peeled off my sodden clothes, I wondered if I'd ever be able to wear any of them again. Certainly, I'd have to replace Ethelind's black cape. The dress Cassie had given me turned out to actually be two pieces, with a crinkly slip worn underneath several layers of transparent silk. Once I had it on, I announced, “I'm decent.”
Cassie tugged on the sleeves, straightened the plunging vee-neckline, and wrapped a white cord around my waist. When she was finished, I felt like a parachutist who'd gotten tangled in her lines.
“Now that you're in no danger of freezing to death, why don't you explain what you were doing here?” Cassie asked.
I searched my mind vainly for a believable fib, and finally opted for the truth. “I knew it was winter solstice, and I wanted to observe your ceremony.”
“All you had to do was ask, Tori. We welcome any visitor who comes with an open mind.”
I was glad for the dim light for I knew I was blushing.
“Did you expect to catch us sky clad? Maybe carrying on a satanic ritual? Killing babies? You see, I know all about the rumors that have gone around town.”
I didn't respond. There was no need to.
She glanced at her wristwatch. “It's so late, we might as well call it a night. We've already closed the circle, so you might as well come along and have some refreshments with us, if you like.”
The way she said it was more of a command than an invitation. I followed her out into an adjoining room, where the others were waiting. Now I realized they were all wearing sweaters or sweatshirts under their filmy gowns. I wished I was. My wet hair had dripped all over the top of my borrowed gown, and I was chilled to the bone.
After all the ritual and mysticism, I was truly surprised when they served cupcakes and decaffeinated coffee. My teeth chattered as, for the first time in my life, I turned down a piece of cake.
Cassie draped a plaid blanket over my shoulders. “We'd better get you home,” she said. “Did you drive?”
“T-t-t-truck. N-n-n-next b-b-b-block.”
“I'll take you there.” As Cassie put on her coat, the other women hugged me good-bye.
“Come back,” they said. It was a funny thing, but I really wanted to.
While we waited for Cassie's car to warm up, I asked Cassie a question that had been on my mind since I observed the ceremony. “Are you Satan worshipers?”
“Absolutely not! That's a common misconception. Sure, there are teenagers who call themselves ‘witches,’ and go for the satanic rituals, but Wicca is a nature-based religion and we worship the Mother Goddess, from whom all creativity flows.”
“And do you believe in magic?”
Cassie fiddled with the heater control. “Not if you think of it as supernatural power. What I and the others of my coven believe is that there is a way to make use of our psychic talents. We conduct ceremonies in order to alter our state of consciousness.”
“For what purpose?”
“To increase our perception of the world around us so we may grow in wisdom and understanding. You'll find it all in chapter two of my book.”
I must have looked doubtful, for she continued. “Have you ever listened to a meditation tape or gone to a seminar on self-awareness? What we do is similar to that kind of thing. The ritual ‘trappings’ we use just help us enter another state of consciousness.”
“While I was watching your ceremony, I felt a strong sense of belonging,” I said. “I'd really like to know more. I'm definitely going to read your book.”
“I think you'll see there's nothing to fear,” Cassie said, acknowledging she knew what the local gossips said about her group. “Except maybe from some of the local fundamentalists who see us as a threat. Now, Tori, why don't you really tell me why you were here tonight?”
I admitted I'd come because of Bernice's involvement with the coven. “I thought I might learn something that could help me identify her murderer.”
“And did you?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. It's another dead end. What's got me baffled is that there's no apparent link between the two murder victims other than that they both were in the Christmas pageant. I need to find a connection between them.”
I think that's when the newspaperwoman in Cassie took over, because she said, “I hadn't thought about that, but I guess it won't hurt to tell you this since both Oretta and Bernice have passed over. Oretta was in our coven. For a very short time-a couple of years ago.” She put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot.
I was so excited I almost forgot I was freezing to death. “She was? What happened?”
“You know how Oretta was. Always wanting to run everything she was involved in. She wasn't willing to wait patiently for her turn to be the priestess. When she decided to rewrite our ritual to make it more poetic, she and Bernice got into quite a row, and that's when Oretta had a hissy fit and stomped out.”
“Did anyone in your coven resent her leaving?” I asked.
Cassie smiled. “Can't say any of us missed her very much.” And as if she could read my mind, she added, “We don't go around bumping off people who decided the Craft isn't for them, Tori.”
“Do you know of anyone in town who might have it in for someone simply because she was a witch?” I was thinking of bigots like Weezie Clopper.
She shook her head. “I'm afraid you're way off base, Tori. There are lots of religious fundamentalists in Lickin Creek, but I can't think of any who'd get so riled up they'd want to kill us.” She paused and looked thoughtfully out the window for a moment. “It has happened in other places, but I'm sure it wouldn't happen in Lickin Creek…” Her voice trailed away as if she realized for the first time just how unpopular her chosen religion was.
She parked next to my truck. “Better take a hot bath when you get home,” she suggested as I opened the car door.
I shivered inside the blanket. “Like I need someone to tell me. Thanks, Cassie. I'm really sorry I disrupted your ceremony.”
“It's all right, Tori. In a strange way, it was actually kind of fun. One thing you should know-we believe in the threefold law, and that means that whatever you do returns to you threefold. It's something I think about every day as I go about my business.”
With that gentle and somewhat mysterious warning in mind, I drove home. My wet boots squished with every step as I entered my kitchen and flipped on the light switch. Noel, sleeping on top of the refrigerator, flew into a panic when she saw me in my strange garb.
“I know,” I said. “It's not the real me.”
Praxythea, a vision of loveliness in peach satin, came in from the front hall, wiping sleep from her eyes. “Oh, thank goodness it's you. I heard a noise and…” She stopped in the doorway, and her mouth gaped in astonishment at the sight of me. “What in God's name happened to you?”
“Don't ask,” I warned. “And that should be ‘What in Goddess's name!’”
With all the dignity I could muster, I wrapped my blanket tightly around me and swept out of the kitchen.