Valerie Malmont - Death, Snow, and Mistletoe

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.