"I see no reason-" Rosemary began.

"Rosie, do as I ask, please," Ted insisted. "Why don't you and Brian take a walk uptown and browse through some stores? This is the day they start putting up Christmas decorations. You might want to look for a wreath or something for our front door."

"It's almost a month until Christmas," Rosemary protested.

"It's not a bit too early to make out a wish list," Ted said. "I bet Brian would like that, wouldn't you, son?"

"Could we go to Radio Shack?" Brian asked eagerly.

"I'm sure Rosemary would be glad to take you to Radio Shack," Ted a.s.sured him. "She's probably never taken a boy shopping before. She's going to have to start learning about the kinds of things guys like us like."

"It's okay," Sarah said to her mother, and meant it. It would be easier to deal with what was coming if Rosemary wasn't there. There was nothing worse than being lectured by Ted when her mother was either supporting him like an echo machine or making weak, ineffectual whimpers of meaningless protest.

"Are you sure?" Rosemary asked, looking worried. "I don't want to leave you if there's going to be some sort of-confrontation. It would be so much easier for everybody if you girls could be friends."

"That's exactly what we're going to talk about," Ted said. "Don't worry, Rosie, we're going to get everything ironed out. By the time you come home, we're going to be a working family unit."

That will be the day! Sarah thought, but she decided for once to keep her mouth shut. No matter what Ted had to say, it wouldn't change anything as far as she was concerned. She was equally sure that nothing would change for Kyra.

Once Rosemary and Brian were gone, Ted leaned forward with his elbows on the table and proceeded to deliver the expected sermon.

"The time has come for the two of you to call a truce," he said. "We can't continue living like this. You're making all of us miserable, including yourselves. The world can't always be exactly the way you want it, and you have to adjust to the reality of my commitment to Rosemary."

"Mom can't adjust," Kyra protested.

"That's your mother's problem," Ted told her. "Sheila's a grown woman, and she needs to start behaving like one."

"She doesn't know how," Kyra said, with the first show of belligerence that Sarah had ever seen her exhibit toward her father. "You never gave her a chance to act like a grown-up when you were living at home with us. You always made all the decisions and took care of everything. Mom never had a life of her own-her whole life was you, and now that you're gone, she doesn't know what to do with herself. I'm scared that maybe she's going to turn into an alcoholic!"

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you blame me for your mother's emotional problems," Ted said. "People have to accept responsibility for their own behavior. My marriage to your mother wasn't working. Neither of us was happy. We were separated on several occasions prior to this one."

"Those times before when you moved out, you always came back," Kyra said, her voice shaking. Sarah actually found herself beginning to feel sorry for her. "Mom thinks that you'll do that again. She's just sitting there waiting for that to happen. Every time the phone rings, she thinks it's you calling to say you're coming home."

"Well, she'd better stop waiting, because this time that isn't going to happen," Ted said emphatically. "You and Brian will always be my children, and I will always love you and support you. If things work out as I hope, I'll be granted joint custody. But I'm extremely happy with Rosemary, and I don't intend to renew my relationship with your mother."

"What if Rosemary walked out on you?" Kyra asked. "What if she took Sarah and went back to California?"

"She's not going to do that," Ted said. "Rosemary has burned all her bridges. Her life is here now, and the two of you are going to have to accept that. One of these days you're going to be stepsisters, and you have to put an end to this senseless feuding and start getting along. Sarah, that means no more lying and troublemaking. It's natural for you to be envious of Kyra's popularity, but you have to remember that she's lived here all her life, so of course she has friends. Kyra, it means that you need to make more of an effort to see that Sarah is included in things. It isn't easy to enter a new high school in your senior year, and this compet.i.tion over Eric certainly hasn't helped matters. If you help Sarah meet some other nice boys, she won't feel any need to chase after another girl's boyfriend."

"So that's how it is?" Kyra asked softly.

"Yes, that's how it is," Ted answered. "Both of you have to accept it."

Sarah stared down at the table, too disgusted even to look at him. She had not spoken one word, and here he was, issuing proclamations as if he were governor of Pine Crest. It had surprised her to hear Kyra stand up to him, and she now understood the true reason for the girl's hostility. Kyra's determination to drive her and Rosemary out of Pine Crest was rooted less in personal dislike than in concern for her own mother. But that didn't make Kyra's actions any more palatable-rooting through Sarah's bureau, lying to Ted about the fortune-telling business, and possibly even depositing the crow in Sarah's locker.

She and Kyra would never be friends, no matter what Ted dictated.

Which was why she was totally flabbergasted when Kyra turned to her and asked pleasantly, "Would you like to go to a party tonight?"

"That's my girl!" Ted said approvingly, reaching over to tousle his daughter's curly hair. "That's what I had in mind, letting Sarah share in your activities. So, Sarah, what do you say?"

"What kind of party?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"Nothing big. Just a few kids getting together at Eric's house to play games and stuff."

"No, thank you," Sarah replied, trying to keep her voice from showing her true feelings.

"Now, none of that," Ted told her. "We're through with that, remember? Of course you'll go to the party. I'll drive you over myself, or you can take your mother's car."

"Don't worry about that," Kyra said quickly. "Eric and I will come by to pick you up at eight, Sarah. And now, Dad, I've got to get home. I told Mom I wouldn't stay long. You've still got Brian here. You know how she gets during holiday time. She wants someone around."

"I remember," Ted said. "Okay, baby, get your coat and I'll drive you. I'm glad you girls have come around. This is certainly going to make life a lot easier for all of us."

After the door closed behind them, Sarah got up from the table and wandered aimlessly about the empty house, feeling more alone than she ever had felt in her life. There was nothing here that was exclusively her own, not even the room in which she slept, where Kyra was free to rummage through all her possessions. The door to the master bedroom stood open, and on a whim she went in and sat down on Rosemary's side of the bed, hoping to find some comfort in the familiar essence of her mother. It was the same queen-size bed that Rosemary had had in their old apartment, but the bedside table was now occupied by Ted's alarm clock, a copy of Sports Ill.u.s.trated, and a pile of loose change. Her parents' wedding picture, which used to have a prominent place on her mother's dresser, had been replaced by enlarged, framed photographs of Brian and Kyra. This room was no more her mother's than her bedroom was hers.

She got up to leave and, on impulse, opened the door of the closet, almost expecting to find it filled with clothes she didn't recognize. The yellow dress her mother had purchased in San Francisco glowed like a sunflower on its hanger, surrounded by Ted's shirts, slacks, and sports jackets. Sarah had seen a reflection of that dress in Rosemary's mirror before it was ever purchased. Thanks to Charlie's rea.s.suring explanation, that thought was no longer quite as frightening as it once had been. When she closed her eyes, she could visualize Betty Parris in the kitchen of the rectory in Salem Village, breaking an egg into a gla.s.s of water and gazing intently into it until images appeared. Little could Betty have guessed that this innocent activity would lead to a frenzied epidemic of superst.i.tious violence!

Feeling more depressed than ever, Sarah went back to her own room, closed the door, and sat down at her desk. The first thing she did was to pick up the paperweight and put it in a drawer. She did not want to get rid of it, because it had been her father's, but neither did she want to look into it and run the risk of seeing things-past, present, or future-that were better left unseen.

She read Charlie's notes on the Boston Tea Party, skimmed his two-year-old report, and began to draft an outline for a short paper of her own. It was not going to be very good, and she would get a low grade on it. There was no way you could toss together a paper in three days and expect it to read as though you had spent three weeks on it, but at least she wouldn't get an F. Once again she owed her salvation to Charlie.

She heard Ted's car driving up, and a little while later, Rosemary's. The television went on in the living room, and before long the smells of cooking began to permeate the house. She tried to focus her mind on the material in Charlie's notes, but found that impossible. She felt as if something terrible was looming over her, something that was about to crash down on her, but she had no idea what it was, and was afraid of finding out.

Maybe it was just that she didn't want to go to the party. She couldn't imagine why Kyra had invited her, and she knew that there was no way she would have a good time. Kyra was not her friend, and neither was Eric, and neither was anybody else in this town except Charlie. Now, when she was stuck in a situation where she needed to talk to him, she felt she didn't have the right to phone him.

Rosemary rapped on the door.

"We're having meat loaf," she said. "I bought hamburger while I was out. I figured we needed a break from light meat and dark meat."

To Sarah's relief, she did not have to make conversation at dinner, as Brian never stopped babbling about all the electronic wonders he now expected for Christmas. As soon as the meal was over, she excused herself and turned to head back to her bedroom.

"Aren't you going to help with the dishes?" Ted asked her.

"Not tonight," Rosemary said. "Remember, she has a party to get ready for. What are you going to wear, honey?"

"I've decided not to go," Sarah said. "Kyra only asked me because Ted made her. She doesn't really want me."

"That's not true," Ted said. "I didn't even know about the party. Kyra came up with that invitation on her own. She's extending an olive branch, Sarah, and I insist that you take it. Kyra can't make this work by herself. You have to meet her halfway."

The doorbell chimed.

"I'll get it!" Brian shouted, leaping up and racing to the door as if he were expecting Santa Claus.

He returned to the kitchen accompanied by Eric, who seemed to be sparkling with some sort of inner fire. Eric's face was flushed, and his amber eyes held the same glitter of excited antic.i.p.ation that Sarah had seen in them the first night the two of them had gone into Ted's apartment. There was something unnatural about him-something- "I know I'm a little early," Eric said with a smile. "I hope that's okay. I need to get back to the house before my other guests start arriving."

"I'm not ready," Sarah said.

"You look great!" His grin broadened, except that tonight Sarah didn't find it charming. His teeth were as dazzling as scalpels, and the golden glow that had seemed to encase his whole being now had a murkiness to it, as if polluted with unsavory elements. She wondered how she could ever have thought he was handsome. Now she didn't even like the idea of being near him, and the thought that she'd allowed him to kiss her was unbearable.

"All our parties here are casual," Eric explained. "Except of course for the prom. Everybody will be wearing jeans. Kyra's out in the car waiting. She's dressed just like you are."

"I'm not ready," Sarah repeated. "I'll never be ready because I don't want to go."

"Now, Sarah, I thought we'd been through all this," Ted said. He addressed himself to Eric. "Sarah thinks Kyra doesn't really want her."

"Of course she wants you!" Eric said.

"I'm not going," Sarah told him, dredging up her old stubbornness and gathering it to her like a favorite garment that had been lost in the back of a wardrobe. "Tell Kyra thanks, but I have a paper to write tonight."

"Sarah ... ," Rosemary began in a pleading voice.

"That's okay, Mrs. Zoltanne," Eric said. "I've been faced with that problem myself. I know what it's like. We'll miss you, Sarah, but if you have a paper to write, of course that has to come first. But, please, come explain that to Kyra. I'm afraid her feelings will be hurt, and I don't want to be the middleman who brings her the message. Maybe she'll even be able to convince you to change your mind."

The next thing Sarah knew, he had hold of her arm and was steering her to the door and then out into the darkness of a night too cloudy for stars. Without a word he guided her across the yard to his car, which was parked at the curb.

To her surprise, Kyra was in the driver's seat.

"Get in back," she called across to Sarah.

"I came out to tell you that I'm not going," Sarah said, making a futile attempt to extract her arm from Eric's grasp.

"You've changed your mind again," Eric said. His voice was low and as soft as a rattler's first warning.

Before she could respond, he had the door open and was shoving her into the backseat.

"I have not changed my mind!" Sarah insisted loudly as Eric climbed in next to her and pulled the door closed. She started to slide across to get out on the other side and then realized that somebody else was in the backseat with them. Leanne Bush's boyfriend was blocking the far door.

"Your witchcraft days are over, Madam Zoltanne," Bucky Greeves said with a chuckle as Kyra started the engine and threw the car into gear.

CHAPTER.

NINETEEN.

"WHERE ARE WE GOING?" Sarah demanded as the car took a left turn at the end of the street and headed into the darkness of the surrounding hills.

"To a party," Eric said. "You know what a party is, don't you? It's a jolly social event where you play games and have refreshments. All work and no play might make Sarah a dull girl."

"Kyra said the party was at your house!" Sarah said, sliding forward on the seat so that she could see out the side window. "This isn't the way to anywhere! We're headed out of town!"

"Every road is the way to somewhere," Bucky said reasonably, shifting his huge body so that his knee dug painfully into her left hip. "We changed the location of the party. It's going to be somewhere else. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, because it's not going to take very long."

"Kyra," Sarah said frantically, "where are you taking me?"

"Where do you think?" Kyra asked, and then giggled. "What's the appropriate place for people to hold parties for witches? We're going up to Garrote Hill!"

"Garrett Hill?" Sarah repeated in bewilderment. "What's up there?" Then it struck her. "That's where the football team holds their beer busts."

"Among other things," Kyra said. "You know what garrote means, don't you?"

"Eric's great-grandfather, Samuel Garrett, was the founder of Pine Crest."

"The hill's not called *Garrett,' you idiot, it's called *Garrote,' " Kyra said. "Garrote, like when you hang people. Garrote Hill is where they used to string up runaway slaves during Civil War days. That's what they used to do to witches too, isn't it, Eric?"

"Right you are, Carrot Top," Eric said. It was too dark for Sarah to see his face, but she knew that he was grinning.

Whatever this is, it can't be much worse than the dead crow, she tried to convince herself. Maybe it would be the best thing that this outlandish kidnapping was happening. Kyra and her friends had finally gone too far. Abducting Sarah was a criminal action that Kyra would not be able either to deny or to explain away. Sarah had made it clear that she was not going to Eric's party. When she'd left the house with Eric and hadn't come back, her mother must have been concerned. When Rosemary checked the coat tree in the hall and discovered that Sarah's jacket was still hanging there, she would really be worried. The next thing she would do would be to phone Eric's house, and when she was told that not only was Sarah not there but also there wasn't any party, she would finally be forced to accept the validity of Sarah's accusations. If Rosemary was still so enamored with Ted that she wouldn't consider leaving him and Pine Crest, at least she would have to agree to let Sarah return to Ventura. Sarah could live with Gillian's family until she finished high school.

Bucky had been right when he'd said that it wouldn't take long to reach their destination. The dirt road that led to the top of Garrett Hill (or "Garrote Hill," if that truly was what it was called) was shorter than Sarah had imagined, making several S-curves through a density of pine trees and emerging at a clearing where a dozen or so cars were already parked.

The party-for there did actually seem to be a party-appeared to have been in progress for some time. A bonfire was burning brightly and a keg was prominently displayed at the edge of the circle of light. Foot-stomping country music blared from a battery-operated boom box, and several couples were dancing on the hard-packed earth.

"She's here!" Kyra called as she brought the car to a stop. She opened the door on the driver's side, and the dome light went on, illuminating the car's interior.

A figure approached and bent to peer through one of the rear windows.

"The guest of honor has arrived!" Cindy Morris announced in a slightly slurred voice. "Welcome to the festivities, Madam Witch Lady!"

Eric opened the rear door on his side and got out, reaching in for Sarah's hand, and, when she wouldn't offer it, closed his own hand around her wrist. Bucky slid toward her, shoving her easily out the door, and as the group collected around her, Sarah realized it consisted almost entirely of cheerleaders and members of the football team.

Despite her resolution to remain stoic in the face of anything they put her through, she found herself trembling as Eric pulled her forward into the firelight. Could this be the honor student, the president of the cla.s.s, the brilliant, charismatic son of a respected lawyer? She remembered Kyra's statement that Eric had a dual personality, the result of his resentment of his domineering father. This was just another example of that childish behavior, Sarah tried to rea.s.sure herself. Eric enjoyed the challenge of secretly defying the man who was running his life, but he set boundaries for his rebellious behavior. He might be a crazy-making game player, but she had never seen any indication that he was violent.

Holding Sarah by her wrists, Eric and Bucky pulled her across the frozen ground to the fire. The chill of the night sliced through her thin sweater as if it were made of gauze, and she welcomed the heat that was generated by the flames.

Debbie Rice threw her arms around Danny Adams and began to sway to the music.

"Dance with me, baby!" she crooned.

"Hey!" Jennifer shouted. "Hands off! Just because your sister snagged your boyfriend doesn't give you the right to start hitting on my guy!"

Bucky jerked Sarah abruptly out of Eric's grip and crushed her against his chest, stomping his mammoth feet in time to the beat. His breath on her face was rancid with the stench of beer. Sarah suddenly realized that all of them, with the possible exception of Kyra and Eric, had been drinking heavily. She attempted to twist away from Bucky, but it was like trying to free herself from the grip of Gargantua.

"That's real music!" Kyra shouted at her over the din. "Not that creepy stuff you listen to!"

"What does she listen to?" Leanne asked. "I'd like to hear some witch music!"

"It just so happens that I brought some CDs with me," Kyra told her. She knelt by the CD player, and a moment later the nasal vocals of the country-western group had been replaced by the rhythmic crash of ocean waves breaking on the beach at Big Sur, accompanied by the lilt of bird calls and woodwinds.

"So that's where my CDs went!" Sarah cried accusingly. "You stole them from my room!"

"Our room!" Kyra reminded her. "It's my room, too, remember?" She adjusted the volume to its highest level, and Debbie began to sway back and forth in a dance of her own.