She tore her eyes away from the title page and looked at Seth. “I–I don’t believe in this kind of stuff,” she said, but even as she uttered the words, she heard the doubt in her own voice, and memories began churning through her mind.
But none of it was real — none of it
That
And finding the book was real, and finding the cabin was real. The cat had led them directly to both the book and the cabin.
The black cat.
The kind of cat that every witch had in every fairy tale she’d ever read.
They all had black cats, just like Houdini.
Was it possible that…?
Then, through her confusion, she heard Seth’s voice.
“… it wasn’t an inscription,” he was saying. “It was a name.”
Angel blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “What?”
“ ‘Forbearance,’ ” Seth said. Glancing around, he lowered his voice. “I think that’s who the book belonged to. Look.” He opened one of the books stacked in front of him — the history of the Wynton family — and turned several pages. “Here,” he said, holding his finger under a line in the middle of the page and turning the book so Angel could read it, though the type was so small she could barely make it out:
3. Forbearance — b. 1678 d. 1693.
“She was the daughter of Josiah and Margaret Wynton,” she heard Seth saying. “And I found out all kinds of weird stuff about her and her mother.”
A ripple of excitement flowed over Angel. “What kind of stuff?”
“They were accused of being witches,” Seth told her. “It’s all in that book.” He nodded to the red volume that lay in front of Angel. “The guy that wrote that? He was her cousin.”
“But what did they
“This book says they put hexes on people. Someone swore Margaret made him fall off a horse, and someone else said the girl made lightning burn their house down.”
Angel’s eyes widened. “You mean like she made it strike the house?”
Seth nodded. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Can you imagine the look on Chad Jackson’s face if the next time he started in on me, I could just hit him with a bolt of lightning?” He grinned at Angel and stabbed at the air using a forefinger as a bolt of lightning. “
“What did they do to them?” Angel asked. “I mean, was it like what they did in Salem?”
Seth nodded. “Oh, yeah! And when they went after Margaret and Forbearance Wynton, guess where they were living?” The look on his face was enough to tell Angel the answer. “The house at Black Creek Crossing,” he said. “Your house.”
“You mean it’s all true?” Angel asked, her voice louder than she’d intended it. “All the stories everyone tells really happened?” She saw Heather Dunne turn and look at her, then smirk as she turned to whisper to the dark- haired girl.
“It’s all here,” Seth said. “Look!”
For the next hour and a half, Angel and Seth went through the books, reading and rereading every passage that made any reference to either Forbearance Wynton, her mother, or the house at Black Creek Crossing. Finally, at ten minutes of nine, they gathered up the books and put them on the table for the assistant librarian to return to the stacks.
“Do you think anything really happened?” Angel asked as they walked down the front steps. “I mean, everyone always says the witch hunts were crazy — that those people hadn’t done anything at all!”
“That didn’t keep them from getting burned at the stake, or drowned, or all the other things they did to them,” Seth replied. “And it sure explains why nobody ever stays in your house for very long.”
Angel stopped at the bottom of the steps leading to the sidewalk. “You mean you believe the witches were real?”
Seth hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just interesting, that’s all.”
“But do you believe it?” Angel repeated, her voice rising.
Seth looked at her, his head cocked. “Do you?” he countered.
“I asked you first.”
“I don’t know,” Seth said. “I guess—” His eyes shifted away from her and his voice dropped. “I guess I just think it might be kind of neat if it
Angel hesitated, then nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too.”
There was a hoot of laughter from the top of the stairs, and then they heard Heather Dunne’s mocking voice. “You already
Heather and Sarah Harmon were peering down at them. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?” Angel demanded. With Heather’s words still burning in her ears, she turned away and ran across the street.
A moment later Seth followed.
Neither of them saw Heather and Sarah leave the library, hurry down the sidewalk, and go into the drugstore.
Chapter 25
EATHER’S WORDS WERE STILL RINGING IN HER HEAD as Angel began the walk back home. Seth had come with her as far as the corner of Black Creek Road, but when he asked if she wanted him to walk her all the way out to the Crossing, she shook her head, afraid of what might happen if her father saw her with him.
But as she left the streetlights behind and the darkness of the night began to close around her, Angel once more had the feeling that she was being watched, and wished she’d let Seth come with her. It was too late to change her mind — when she looked back, he’d vanished into the darkness.
She tried to ignore it, to pretend that she felt nothing, but as a cloud passed over the half moon hanging low in the sky, and the blackness seemed to wrap around her like a shroud, she felt her pulse quicken along with her stride.
Then, from somewhere off to the right, she heard a sound.
Angel froze, listening.
Silence.
She resumed walking, but hadn’t taken more than three steps when she heard the sound again. It was closer this time, and more distinct, a rustling sound from somewhere toward the creek.
“Houdini?” she called out softly. “Is that you?”
The rustling stopped.
“Come on, Houdini,” Angel called again. “Here, kitty, kitty. Come on!”
More silence.
Angel stood still, listening, but the night had gone deathly silent.
In the terrible stillness her heart pounded so hard it seemed it would drown out anything else.
