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"If you follow it along several feet either way, you'll see more black stones. They're warding or protection stones, and will ring the whole town. When placed in certain sequences they can provide protection against either magic, evil, or, in this case, good."
"These are a hell of a lot bigger than any of the stones we've been shown in class."
"That's because the circle of protection needs to be a whole lot bigger." Nikki studied the nearest stones for a minute, noting the way the black surface seemed to swallow rather than reflect the sunlight. “So why can't we just go down there and scatter the stones?" Camille raised an eyebrow. “Didn't you just say you took the class on that?"
"Yes.” But she'd been half asleep, because Michael had whisked her off to San Francisco the night before to celebrate her passing the first section of the course. They'd partied, and then they'd made love all night...
Swallowing the anguish that rose swift and fast, she let her gaze search the streets again. No sign of Michael anywhere. No sensation of where he might be. She clenched her fists, resisting the temptation to just go down there and start looking. There were still twenty minutes to wait before the so-called door opened.
"Then you'll know that a circle this size cannot be destroyed by brute force. And it'll take time to do so by magic."
Meaning she was on her own for longer than any of them wanted. She bit her lip for a moment, then rose, her long skirt swirling around her booted feet, stirring dust. “I'd better grab my packs and head down there, just in case the door opens early."
"It won't."
She knew that, but she couldn't stay here, doing nothing, for another second. Lifting her skirt a little, she walked down the long slope to the small camp that had been set up in the hollow between two hills. There were probably a dozen people and tents down here, but there was really only one other person she wanted to see right now.
Jake glanced up as she approached. “I've packed everything that's on the list. I just hope the weather doesn't close in, because the sleeping roll may not keep you warm if it does." Nikki shrugged and picked up the first of the packs. It felt like she was slinging a load of rocks over her shoulder. “Then I'm just going to have to convince Michael to keep me warm with body heat." Jake gave her the sort of look a parent does a wayward child. “Don't expect too much at the beginning. Remember what—"
"I remember,” she cut in tartly. “But I just don't think magic can ever entirely erase what we share.”
Recognition would be there, even if it was buried deep. And come hell or high water, she was going to bring that recognition to the surface as soon as she could.
"There's one thing that's got me puzzled,” she added, glancing at Camille as she adjusted the straps. “If Weylin needs to follow what happened a century ago for this ceremony of his, how come everyone in town is wandering around in reasonably modern clothing?” Or at least, the men were. The one woman she'd seen had been wearing an outfit that looked as if it belonged in a bordello. She'd been mighty glad to have been allowed a skirt and shirt once she'd seen that outfit.
"Except for Hartwell itself, it is the events that are important rather than the environment.” Camille held out her hand. “Better give me that ring."
Nikki glanced down at her engagement ring. Somehow, the act of taking it off felt like a betrayal, yet she could hardly wear it when doing so might give away who she really was. She tugged it off and placed it in the old witch's palm. God, her hand felt naked without it. “I'll be back for that in four days."
"Make sure that you are.” The ring disappeared and a cell phone took its place. “Slip this inside your skirt. Your bags will probably be searched the first day, so keep the phone on you until after that happens."
"Will the phone work in there?"
"I don't see why not. Weylin couldn't afford to completely cut off the town, or he'd have people out here investigating."
She nodded and slipped the phone into her skirt pocket. Jake lifted the second pack, then pulled Nikki forward and hugged her fiercely. “Take care in there."
"I will.” She hugged him back just as fiercely, all too aware that if things went wrong in Hartwell, she might not see him again. After a while, she pulled back and added, “Not that any of you can do anything if things should go haywire."
"He won't kill you or Michael,” Camille commented. “He needs you both alive for the ceremony."
" If he is trying to raise his brother. You have no real proof that's his goal." "Seline says it is, and that's good enough for me.” Camille grabbed Nikki's hand, her fingers like cold parchment against Nikki's skin.
"Here,” she added, placing something cool and metallic into Nikki's hand. “Take this. We found it in the van."
Nikki's mouth went dry. It was the silver cross she had given Michael when they'd first met.
"It may help jog his memory—if you can get him to wear it." Not trusting herself to speak, Nikki nodded. She wrapped her fingers around the chain and felt the tingle of energy run up her arm. The images from the cross came through muted, as if viewed from a distance and distorted by layers of dusty glass.
But she could feel him. Feel his anger. His despair. Seline was right. Deep inside, he thought her dead, and the agony of it was tearing him apart.
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away and spun around. “Let's get this over with." The three of them walked down to the single white stone that indicated the entrance. Jake dumped the pack at her feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Someone's headed this way,” he commented.
Someone who looked a lot like the gnarled van driver, Nikki thought, eyeing the lean figure apprehensively. He walked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and even from this distance, the sense of his evil was something that crawled across her skin. Goose bumps fled down her spine. Swallowing to ease the sudden dryness in her throat, she glanced at Camille. “You'd better retreat. The note said I was the only one to be here."
"Yes.” The old witch paused, and then she gripped Nikki's shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Good luck. And remember, once you enter that place, you are Seline, not Nikki. Never once can you say your real name, in fear that Weylin will hear."
