Cassie woke up at five the next morning, on the dot, without her alarm. It was like her body was so attuned to the day's mission that manmade technologies of convenience, like clocks, were deemed unnecessary. She felt one with the elements today, no longer at their mercy.

She got up from bed and dressed ceremonially, like a Spartan warrior preparing for battle. She wrapped herself in the white shift Diana had given her and proudly snapped the silver cuff-bracelet onto her upper arm, the leather garter around her thigh, and the sparkling diadem upon her head. She was ready to go save her sister.

Cassie made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She had to borrow her mother's car, but she couldn't exactly tell her mother she needed it so she could battle the witch hunters and save the sister she was never told about. So she'd have to take it without asking. That seemed to be the theme of this entire mission: Take what you need to get the job done and explain later. And she would. All would be revealed later, to her mother, to Diana, Faye, Adam, everyone. For now, Cassie couldn't allow any guilt to creep up and distract her - she had to focus solely on getting to Cape Cod.

But as Cassie drove farther away from Crowhaven Road and then farther away from New Salem, a sickness inside her began to form. Nerves, she figured, and she told herself her began to form. Nerves, she figured, and she told herself she had every right to feel nervous; this was a dangerous act. The hunters had black magic on their side.

The Master Tools will not let me down in my moment of need, Cassie thought. And that reminded her of the chalcedony rose she had hidden within her pocket.

It was the good-luck piece Adam gave her long ago in case she was in trouble - she'd brought it with her just in case. After everything they'd been through and disagreed over these past few weeks, Cassie still believed in Adam and had faith in their bond. Did they need a rare crystal to connect them at this point in their relationship? No, of course not. Maybe Cassie only brought the chalcedony piece out of superstition, but even so, it calmed her to stroke its rugged surface. The stone felt alive in her grasp the way it did when Adam had first given it to her. Hold on to it tight, he'd told her, and think of me. She did that now and felt her courage grow.

But crossing over the county line into the town of Sandwich, Cassie's fear heightened to a new level. The decaying sign alerting that she'd arrived read: INCORPORATED 1639, reminding Cassie of the deep-rooted history of the place as the oldest town in Cape Cod. The Tools themselves seemed to react to the setting all on their own.

Cassie could swear they were warming to her body, growing hotter by the second as she followed the course she'd mapped out to Hawthorne Street.

She should have a plan of attack, she realized, for when she encountered the hunters. She knew the witch-hunter curse by heart, and the Tools would surely come to her aid, but now that the reality of the situation was setting in, questions began to form in Cassie's mind. She didn't know how many hunters there would be. Was there a limit to how many she could take down with the one curse? And what if Scarlett was in even worse shape when she arrived than in Cassie's dream? There was a fear lurking in the back of Cassie's mind that Scarlett could have already been killed.

Again, Cassie felt for the chalcedony rose. But even with the crystal's comfort, when the house at 48 Hawthorne Street came into view, her whole being flooded with fear. It was just as she'd imagined it in her nightmares, identical to the image that came to her during the location spell. It was a broken-down beach cottage with driftwood-gray siding, and it was near the end of a long, desolate, sandy lane, with a large body of water on one side and tidal marshes on the other. There was no other house in sight.

The terrible feeling in Cassie's gut grew. The acid from her stomach crept up her throat, filling her mouth with a sickening taste. Every inch of her body screamed for her to turn around and drive back home. But she knew she couldn't allow her fear to get the best of her now. Not when she'd come this far.

With determination, she got out of the car and treaded across the long grass toward the house, but after only a few steps she froze. She tried to continue forward and couldn't.

There was some kind of magical barrier protecting the house's perimeter, similar to the one Faye used to guard the hidden garter. But that would be easy enough for Cassie to penetrate while wearing the Tools. She touched each relic individually, adjusting them into place, and silently called on their collective power. It wasn't her imagination, the Tools did feel hot to her touch, she was sure of it.

"Be now dissolved, powerful shield!" Her voice left her throat sounding deep and gravelly as she sent all of her energy toward the house. She focused hard and said the words again, this time pushing with her mind until she felt the power of the Tools rush out of her like a blistering heat.

The spell seemed to work at once. The dark cloud perched over the house cleared, and the guarding force at the property's perimeter disappeared. The relics are really working, Cassie thought to herself. Scarlett was as good as saved.

Without delay, she continued forward unhindered.

Practicing the witch-hunter curse in her mind, she walked slowly and carefully in a state of deep meditation toward the house.

When she was inches away from the front door, she could see it was windblown and water-damaged, rotted to a softness no wood should be. And the foundation of the house creaked and rattled in the wind, like it could come crashing down at any moment. It occurred to Cassie to try some kind of protection spell on herself before entering, or maybe another silence spell to assist her in sneaking into the house. But then she thought better of it. She would step inside just as she was, no cowardly tricks, no sleight of hand. The Tools were the only power she needed.

Cassie listened for voices but heard none. In the eerie silence, the fear that Scarlett had already been killed raced through her mind. An image of her dead body hanging from the ceiling, swinging back and forth, like the arm of a clock

- tick tock, tick tock - haunted Cassie. But she couldn't step through this door with the slightest bit of distraction.

She'd have seconds to cast the curse, less than that in fact.

Cast the curse, rescue Scarlett, and then get the heck out of there. That was the plan.

Carefully, Cassie placed her hand upon the rotted softness of the door. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. In fact, it didn't even appear to be fully closed. She pushed on its damp surface gently with the palm of her hand, and it swept open effortlessly. She was already chanting the witch-hunter curse under her breath, ready for anything that came at her, but when she stepped inside, the scene was nothing like what she saw in her dreams.

The main room was large and tidy. Its walls were painted an oceanic blue and were finished with bright white crown molding. The hardwood floors were freshly waxed, and the air inside the room was warm and cedar-scented with the heat of a wood-burning fire.

Scarlett was there, by herself, lounging on a faded sofa in front of the fireplace. Her dyed-red hair cascaded in healthy waves onto her shoulders, framing her rosy-cheeked smirking face.

"Finally," she said. "I've been getting so bored up here waiting for you."

Instantly Cassie knew she'd made a terrible mistake.

This was all a trap.