(no subject)
Months ago, when the Circle had decided that they needed the Master tools in order to strengthen their magic and come into their full strength, Adam had fully supported the decision and even volunteered to use his summer break to search them out. If he’d known then what he knew now, if he’d known that the crystal skull that resonated with so much power Adam could sense it buried beneath the sand was so tied to Black John that it brought him back, he never would have agreed to go. There was such a thing as too much power, after all, and that skull had been too much even for a full coven and the delicate rituals that Melanie and Diana had devised to cleanse it. Even now, searching for the real Master tools, Adam didn’t know if it was such a good idea. What if they found them and Black John took them or, worse, manipulated Cassie or Faye into using them against the Circle and the rest of New Salem?
There wasn’t enough time to think it through for Adam’s tastes but he trusted Cassie and trusted her visions: even the original Circle had looked to Cassie’s family as the strongest of the twelve. But was trust enough? Was it enough to know how things would play out once they put forth change and altered the future? Adam couldn’t say.
What he could say, though, was that they needed to act fast. Faye was working with Black John to bring the Circle down and there was a storm brewing offshore that would wipe New Salem off the map and take a good chunk of the rest of New England with it. Black John had already killed four people, five if Cassie’s mother didn’t shake off the funk she’d been in since he came back and Adam knew it would only get worse if they didn’t do something. It was on Cassie’s suggestion that they went back to Number Twelve and started digging behind the fireplace. She looked shaken and rightly so; her grandmother had died here, her mother had been scared catatonic here…it was a lot for anyone to handle. Adam wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, but they’d made a promise that he wasn’t willing to break, not even in a situation like this.
Adam could feel the hum of power, true power, the second Cassie lifted the box from the fireplace. It was old, solid and when she lifted the lid, he could see the gleam of the real Master tools, not the replicas Diana had used as coven leader. The silver cuff looked heavy, the diadem sparkled like a crown of stars and the garter was made of leather that was miraculously still supple after hundreds of years.
It wasn’t his right to touch them, he knew, but Adam couldn’t help but reach out for the garter and graze his fingers against an object so old and so powerful that maybe, just maybe, they’d stand a chance against Black John and his dark magic. The power that whooshed from the artifact knocked him back and when he came to, there was the grit of sand against his skin and in his mouth. Sand? He’d been blown all the way out of the house, down the cliffs and onto the beach? It was one hell of an artifact, then, and cemented his belief that Cassie had been right about locating the Master tools; no fake would have had that much stored power without some kind of ritual to sustain it.
But the beach was…wrong. It was November, it should have been freezing, and yet the beach was warm and tropical in a way that New Salem had never been and would never be. Furthermore, Black John’s storm had been lashing the coast all day…there was no way it would be bright and sunny with a hurricane barreling straight for New Salem. No way.
“Damn,” Adam muttered, shakily getting to his feet. He believed in the power of earth, fire, sea and sky but he had never heard of teleportation, not even in the oldest of spells. If the Master tools could do this, who knew what they could do to Black John?
One thing was for sure: he had to get back.
“Cassie? Diana? Cassie! Where are you?”
[First person explains, the rest can find him wandering around the Compound. He also has his German Shepherd, Raj, with him. Feel free to mod him doing whatever friendly dogs do. ST/LT welcome.]]
There wasn’t enough time to think it through for Adam’s tastes but he trusted Cassie and trusted her visions: even the original Circle had looked to Cassie’s family as the strongest of the twelve. But was trust enough? Was it enough to know how things would play out once they put forth change and altered the future? Adam couldn’t say.
What he could say, though, was that they needed to act fast. Faye was working with Black John to bring the Circle down and there was a storm brewing offshore that would wipe New Salem off the map and take a good chunk of the rest of New England with it. Black John had already killed four people, five if Cassie’s mother didn’t shake off the funk she’d been in since he came back and Adam knew it would only get worse if they didn’t do something. It was on Cassie’s suggestion that they went back to Number Twelve and started digging behind the fireplace. She looked shaken and rightly so; her grandmother had died here, her mother had been scared catatonic here…it was a lot for anyone to handle. Adam wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, but they’d made a promise that he wasn’t willing to break, not even in a situation like this.
Adam could feel the hum of power, true power, the second Cassie lifted the box from the fireplace. It was old, solid and when she lifted the lid, he could see the gleam of the real Master tools, not the replicas Diana had used as coven leader. The silver cuff looked heavy, the diadem sparkled like a crown of stars and the garter was made of leather that was miraculously still supple after hundreds of years.
It wasn’t his right to touch them, he knew, but Adam couldn’t help but reach out for the garter and graze his fingers against an object so old and so powerful that maybe, just maybe, they’d stand a chance against Black John and his dark magic. The power that whooshed from the artifact knocked him back and when he came to, there was the grit of sand against his skin and in his mouth. Sand? He’d been blown all the way out of the house, down the cliffs and onto the beach? It was one hell of an artifact, then, and cemented his belief that Cassie had been right about locating the Master tools; no fake would have had that much stored power without some kind of ritual to sustain it.
But the beach was…wrong. It was November, it should have been freezing, and yet the beach was warm and tropical in a way that New Salem had never been and would never be. Furthermore, Black John’s storm had been lashing the coast all day…there was no way it would be bright and sunny with a hurricane barreling straight for New Salem. No way.
“Damn,” Adam muttered, shakily getting to his feet. He believed in the power of earth, fire, sea and sky but he had never heard of teleportation, not even in the oldest of spells. If the Master tools could do this, who knew what they could do to Black John?
One thing was for sure: he had to get back.
“Cassie? Diana? Cassie! Where are you?”
[First person explains, the rest can find him wandering around the Compound. He also has his German Shepherd, Raj, with him. Feel free to mod him doing whatever friendly dogs do. ST/LT welcome.]]