CHAPTER ONE

The painting

The story started the day that Helen's mother bought the painting. It
was December, there was snow on the ground and most people in the
village were getting ready for Christmas. It always snowed in HoIIybrook
at Christmas. Always! The old ladies of the village said that it snowed when
they were young too.

Helen, her mother, Julia, and step-father, Bob, lived in a small

cottage. Helen went to school from Monday to Friday, to the swimming
pool twice a week and to piano lessons on Wednesday evenings. Bob was a
photographer and often worked away from home. Julia worked part-time in
an office in a town not far away and came home in the afternoons.

That day, after work, she had to go to the tiny village super-market.
HoIIybrook was a quiet village and there wasn't much to see, so when she
noticed a new antique shop in place of the old book shop she couldn't resist
looking. It had the name 'Oak Tree.

Antiques' in curly black letters above the door. The window was full
of beautiful old objects; lamps, crystal vases, little china statues, clocks...
Julia went in.

There wasn't much room in the shop as it was so full of things, but she
noticed the painting immediately. For some reason it wasn't with the other
paintings but almost hidden by a pile of old books. For some reason she
went straight to it. She couldn't say why but she knew she had to buy it...
and she did.

When Helen arrived home from school later that afternoon the
painting was already hanging on the wall in the living room between the
clock and her first school photo.
 'What's that?!!'

'I bought it from the antique shop. Don't you like it?'

Helen stared at the painting. 'It's old. It's dark. It's too big It's...' Helen
stopped. There was something about it that disturbed her but it was
impossible to say what. It was the portrait of a young woman, a girl really,
not much older than she was. She was sitting in a dark room wearing a long
white dress and a gold-coloured necklace. She had dark, wavy hair and blue
eyes, similar to Helen's own. Her nose was quite long and she had a sad
kind of expression on her face, similar to Helen's... Suddenly she
understood why the painting seemed so strange. It was her. The painting
was of Helen!

She didn't know what to say. 'But Mum... Why did you...'

'I'm sorry you don't like it,' said Julia, offended. 'It just jumped out at
me. I had to buy it.'

'But where from? Why?'

'I told you, that new antique shop opposite the post-office. Don't you
remember, old Mr Church's second hand bookshop closed a few weeks ago?
He left in a great hurry and some of his old books are still there... Well, now
it's an antique shop.'

Helen knew where it was. She walked past it every day on her way to
and from the bus stop when she went to school.

'But Mum! It's me. Look!'

Her mother looked up at the painting, as if for the first time. 'You're
right, darling! What a coincidence! It does look like you.' Then she turned
and walked out of the room. 'I'm going to get dinner ready. Remember to do
your homework...'

Helen stood in silence looking up at the girl in the portrait. The girl in
the portrait stared back, her big blue eyes looking sadly down at Helen's.
Helen shivered. She knew it was only a coincidence but it was strange all
the same.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She pulled
it out of her pocket and saw that it was her cousin, Will.

'Hey Will! You OK?'

'I'm alright... Your voice sounds terrible. What's up?'

'No, nothing's wrong. Mum's just bought something really weird. I'll
show you when you come round.'

'OK... By the way, it's your birthday next week, isn't it? Are we doing
something or not?'

That's right. She was going to be fifteen years old. She looked up at
the painted girl again and wondered how old she was.

'Helen?... Helen?...'

'Are you still there?'

'Sorry, Will, I was thinking about something. Sure, we'll talk about it
at school tomorrow, OK? See you.'

In silence, and with a sadness she couldn't explain, she turned and
went up the stairs to her room.

CHAPTER TWO

The Gift

It was Helen's birthday. Julia reminded her by opening her bedroom

door singing 'Happy Birthday to you...' very loudly.

'Mum! It's Saturday. Please, let me sleep! At least until nine o'clock!!'
 'Oh come on, lazy! We've got a special present for you. The postman
has brought lots of cards too, and even a parcel! Come downstairs and open
them.'

Her mother was strangely cheerful that morning and Helen knew she
should be happy too. She pulled herself out of bed and went downstairs.
The table in the living room was prepared for breakfast and already full of
coloured envelopes and pretty presents.

'This one's from me and Bob!' smiled Julia and pushed a small, square
present towards her. She opened it.

'Hey, Mum, that's fantastic! A new phone. I really wanted one like
this.' It was true. The thing Helen wanted more than anything was a new
mobile phone. She looked at the other things on the table. 'What's this?' she
asked, looking at a small brown package.

'It came with the other birthday cards that the postman brought,'
explained her mother.

'Who's it from?' Helen looked at the writing. She didn't recognise it

and couldn't think of anybody who would send her a present in the post.

'I don't know!' Julia replied excitedly. 'Go on, open it. It's the only
way you'll find out.'

Helen took the present in her hand and was surprised to find that such
a small object was so heavy. She hesitated a moment before opening the
present.

Slowly she took off the brown paper. First a small white envelope fell
out. Helen ignored it, concentrating on the soft golden paper which was
around the present itself. She was completely amazed when she saw the gift
which fell onto the table, next to her plate of toast and jam.

'Oh!' exclaimed Julia in a small voice.

'Oh!' said Helen at exactly the same time as her mother.

 They both stared at the beautiful gold necklace which lay on the table.
Helen gazed at its intricate patterns, its incredible red stone and the way it
reflected the early winter sunlight.

'Is that a ruby? Is it real?' Her mother couldn't believe her eyes. Helen
couldn't say anything. 'Go on, read the letter! Who's it from? Who sent
something like that by post??'

Helen turned her attention to the envelope. She took out a folded
piece of paper and started to read. It was difficult because the writing was
old-fashioned; it was the sort her grandma used before she died.

My Dear Helen,

If my calculations are correct, this year you will be fifteen years old...
the same age as I was when they gave the necklace to me. Now I'd like you
to have it.

With much love and a very happy birthday

Aunt Charlotte.

'Aunt Charlotte? Have I got an Aunt Charlotte?'

'You must have an Aunt Charlotte... somewhere.' She thought for a

few seconds and then her eyes became bright. 'You know who it is? Your
father's Aunt Lotty. I didn't think she was still alive.'

Helen's father died when she was very young. She couldn't really
remember him and she certainly couldn't remember the tragic car accident
which killed him. Helen's grandmother had hundreds of sisters: too many to
count! Aunt Charlotte must be one of her grandmother's sisters.

Happy with the explanation Helen took the golden necklace in her
hands.
 'Be careful!' said her mother. 'I bet that necklace is worth a lot of
money. I don't want you to break it immediately!'

Her daughter didn't answer. Her face suddenly became white and she
looked terrible.

'Helen? Helen!? Are you OK? What's wrong, darling?'

Helen made some strange noise which wasn't like a word. She tried to
speak again but no sound came out. She tried again to open her mouth but
everything turned black and she crashed to the floor. Julia rushed to her
daughter's side. She gave a small gasp as she saw the necklace still in
Helen's hand. It was exactly the same as the one worn by the girl in the
portrait.

CHAPTER THREE

The Shop

'Tell me again, exactly what happened?'

'Will, this is the sixth time I've told you. The postman delivered a
parcel. Inside there was a letter and a necklace. The letter was from an Aunt
Charlotte and the necklace was... well...' She looked up at the portrait on the
wall. '...The necklace was that one.'

Her cousin Will looked up at the painting too. The golden necklace
worn by the girl was exactly the same as the one on the table in front of
them.

'And then,' continued Helen, 'when I picked it up it felt strange.

Suddenly everything went black and I fainted.'

'That is so weird,' said her cousin. 'What are you going to do about it?
What do you think it means? Why do you think...?'
 'Will! Shut up! I don't know. I have no idea. My mum, for no reason,
decides to buy an old painting... I mean, my mum hates old stuff so I have
no idea why she bought this... and the painting looks exactly like me! And
now a necklace arrives which is just the same as the one she's wearing.'

'It came from Aunt Charlotte. Who was she? I can't actually
remember a Charlotte in our family.'

'Mum said she was probably one of Grandma's sisters. She had loads,
don't you remember?'

'There were eight of them, weren't there!! Mary, Jane, Elizabeth,

Ann...'

'Yeah... Sarah, Letitia, Catherine, Lotty...'

'OK, so Charlotte must be one of her sisters.'

'So... why did she send me a necklace? How did she know about the
painting? Will, there are just too many questions.'

'I think we should try and understand who the girl in the painting
really is. I mean, how come the painting was in the shop in the first place?'

Helen thought for a moment. 'Look Will, I know we said we would go

to the cinema in town this afternoon but why don't we go and have a look at
that antique shop instead? We could see if there's anything strange about it.'

'OK, why not.'

From the outside there was nothing strange about it. To Helen it
looked more like a junk shop than an antique shop.

In the window there was a scruffy display of old dolls and crystal
vases surrounded by some faded Christmas decorations.

She looked in through the glass and saw more piles of old things on
tables, cabinets and shelves. Books, old cushions, candlesticks, clocks and
lamps were squashed into all the free spaces with no apparent order.
 In the semi-darkness at the back of the shop she could see two men
talking to an old woman. They had their backs turned so Helen couldn't see
their faces.

'OK. Are we going in?' Will was ready to start the adventure.

'Right! Yes!'

Helen didn't feel so brave now that she was in front of the shop.

Suddenly they heard the tinkle of a bell and the door opened. The old
woman came out, holding a small brown bag and Helen was surprised to
see that it was her next-door neighbour, Mrs Milsted.

'Afternoon, and Merry Yule,' said the old woman hurrying away along
the street with her head down.

'Hello Mrs Milsted,' replied Helen. But it was too late; the old lady
was already round the corner.

'Come on then,' said Will. 'Let's go in.'

'No, wait!' Helen hesitated. 'You go in first so that the two men see
you.'

Will opened the shop door.

The first thing that they noticed was the cold. There was still snow on
the ground outside but going into the shop was like entering another world.
Tiny fairy lights and small table lamps gave some light but it was mostly
dark. Dark and silent. At first, Helen and Will couldn't see the two men so
they started to look round the shop. Will made for some other paintings and
Helen went to look at the old books in a corner. Then, one of the men
suddenly appeared from behind an old cupboard and said, 'Good afternoon.'

Helen immediately wanted to hide. She quickly took a book from the
shelf and pretended that she was reading it intensely. 'Good afternoon,' she
replied almost in a whisper without lifting her head.
 In the silence that followed she was surprised to hear Will's voice.

'You've just opened this shop haven't you?'

'Yes,' came the reply. 'We've been here for two weeks now. It's a very
nice little village.'

'Why did you choose to come here, though?' Will asked.

'We move around a lot... we go wherever we're needed, wherever we

have customers.'

'I'm sure there can't be much business in a small place like this,'
insisted Will.

'What a lot of questions from such a young man!' This was a different
voice: deeper, more sinister. Helen looked up from the book she was
reading to see that it was the second man speaking. They were very similar:
both tall, blond and dressed in black; one older, one younger.

When the older man saw Helen he smiled. 'Ah, so you came after all!
We were expecting you.'

Helen grabbed Will's arm quickly. 'Come on, let's get out of here!' she
said, and the two ran out into the snowy street outside.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Invitation

'I don't understand. What happened in there?'

'Didn't you see his face, Will? Didn't you see who it was?'
 'I saw his face. I saw both their faces, but I have absolutely no idea
who they are. Who are they?' Will looked at his cousin. She was still
shaking. 'Helen, what exactly is going on?'

'I recognised that man. Not the young one but his father. I've seen him
before.'

'OK. But where? And how do you know it's his father?'

'I don't know, I can't remember. It's just a feeling.'

Things were getting stranger and stranger. Will and Helen were sitting
opposite each other in the coffee shop with a plate of chocolate brownies
between them. Christmas music was tinkling through the shop and a young
waitress was looking at them from behind the counter.

'Do you think she knows?' asked Helen nervously.

'What are you talking about now?'

'Can't you see the way she's looking at me?'

'She's looking at me, not you! I know her. She's Andy Pearson's
girlfriend... I think. Now can you stop it, please. You're making me nervous.
The two men in the shop have just arrived in the village. You've never seen
them before. They're just trying to make money from a junk shop.'

'But they must have something to do with it.'

Will finished his drink and put the glass on the table. 'Come on, let's
go home. I have no idea what you're talking about.'

Outside it was dark and snowing. An old lady stood in the doorway of
the coffee shop protecting herself from the snow. She watched Will and
Helen go out. 'Merry Yule,' she said, softly.

'Yeah... OK, Merry Yule to you too,' said Will and they both laughed.
The old women in HoIIybrook always used a strange old word, Yule,
instead of Christmas.
 Helen said goodbye to Will when they got to the church and they both
went separate ways. Five minutes later she arrived at home to find Julia
outside the house in the dark on a ladder, hanging holly garlands around the
windows. It was still snowing and Helen thought her mother was mad.

'What are you doing out here in the cold?' she asked.

'Holly is an important symbol of Christmas!' answered her mother in

explanation, without taking her eyes from her work.

'But it's completely covering the house. We usually only decorate

inside.'

'I told you, it's important' Julia answered from the ladder, still not
looking at her daughter. Her voice was shaking.

At that moment Mrs Smith from the big house on the corner came by.
She stopped and looked up at the decorations.

'Lots of holly this year, Julia!'

Helen's mum looked down at her with a small smile. 'Yes,' she said.

'Merry Yule!' replied Mrs Smith. Her voice was serious and the
Christmas greeting sounded like a warning.

'Merry Yule,' said Helen's mum, her voice almost a whisper.

Inside the house Helen saw that the decorations were already finished.
The tree was full of silver and red balls as usual. Golden lights twinkled
around the room and bunches of holly hung everywhere. There were
usually a few sprigs but this year the house was full of the green leaves and
their little red berries. Helen shivered. The house was colder than usual. She
went upstairs and, to her surprise, noticed that there were bunches of holly
over the entrance to the bedrooms.

Suddenly a memory shot through her like ice and she stopped. The
holly reminded her of something. It was in the book she was reading in the
antique shop earlier. People used holly as protection against evil spirits. The
book was about local history and traditions. It explained how, in ancient
times, people of the village used holly at Christmas time to keep witches
away.

'Helen? Are you upstairs?' Julia's voice interrupted her thoughts.

'Yeah, I'm here, Mum. You OK?'

She heard her mum come to the bottom of the stairs. 'I have to go
round to Aunty Su's for a bit. Will you answer the phone or the door if
anyone comes round?'

'Sure.' Helen was surprised. It was still snowing outside, it was getting
late and she knew her mother's favourite quiz show was just starting on TV.
But before she could ask why, her mother was already out of the door.

Helen put on an extra jumper and went downstairs. The house was
freezing. She would ask Bob to check the heating when he came home from
Canada after Christmas. Suddenly she heard a ring at the front door. It was
the next door neighbour, Mrs Milsted.

The old lady smiled at Helen, but there was something not very
friendly about her smile.

'Good evening, Mrs Milsted,' said Helen.

'Is your mother home?'

'She'll be back in about half an hour. Can I help?'

'Thank you Helen, tell her please that we are meeting on Thursday, at
9 pm.' Mrs Milsted stopped and looked carefully at Helen. 'And of course,
you are invited too! We are expecting you this year.'

Helen looked at her, confused at the strange invitation.

'So make sure you don't disappoint us,' the old lady continued.
 'But...?' Helen wanted to ask, 'What meeting?' She wanted to know,
'What's it got to do with me?' But it was too late. The old lady was already
on her way back home. Helen just heard her say, faintly, 'Merry Yule!'
before she disappeared.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Sisters

It was Wednesday and the first day of the school Christmas holidays.
Helen wanted to sleep until late. She was surprised to hear Will's voice
speaking to her mother downstairs and was curious to know what he
wanted.

'Oh, there you are,' he said when she arrived in the living room, still in
her pyjamas.

'Sorry. I didn't know you were coming round.'

Will's face was white and Helen could tell immediately that he wanted
to tell her something... but not in front of her mum.

'Come on, let's go into the other room,' said Helen. Julia didn't really
seem to notice. She was in a sort of dream recently.

'What's wrong?'

'It's Aunt Charlotte!'

'What's she done now?'

'Unfortunately, nothing!' Helen didn't understand what her cousin was

talking about.

'She's dead!'
 'Oh, no! When did she die?'

'About thirty years ago!'

'That's impossible. If she was dead she couldn't send me the necklace.'

'Exactly!' Helen realised what the problem was.

'Look,' continued Will. 'I was speaking to mum yesterday evening. I

didn't tell her about the necklace and everything, I was just asking her some
questions about the family, you know.'

'And...?'

'I asked her about Aunt Charlotte. Mum didn't really know much
about her. She was dad's aunt, not hers. Apparently she died in an accident
about thirty years ago. It was strange because then she mentioned
something called the Hollybrook curse...'

Helen tried to interrupt but Will went on, '... which talks about girls in
the village being witches. Weird!'

'I know. I read something about it in that book at the antique shop,'
said Helen. 'Sorry, Will. I completely forgot to tell you. When I was trying
to hide from those men I picked up one of old Mr Church's second hand
books about local history. It said exactly the same thing: for centuries there
have been witches here and that the only way to protect yourself against
them is to use holly. That's actually really weird because my mum has
decorated our whole house in holly, from top to bottom. But what's all that
got to do with Great Aunt Charlotte dying in an accident?'

Will wasn't listening. He was staring up at the portrait which still

hung on the wall. 'I didn't notice that before,' he said, almost in a whisper.
Helen looked to where he was pointing. For the first time she too noticed
that the girl in the painting was holding a tiny sprig of holly in her hand.

'We need to buy that book,' said Helen. She really didn't want to go
back to the shop herself and invented an excuse quickly. 'I'm still wearing
my pyjamas, I can't get it. You'll have to go!' She almost pushed Will out
the door.

Helen went to Julia and Bob's room. She sat down on the floor and
opened an old trunk. From inside she took out a pile of photograph albums.
Helen looked sadly at the lovely photos taken of her and her father many
years before. There were lots of photos of her mum's second marriage and
happy photos of the three of them together. Then she passed on to the older
photos from her father's family. She never really looked at them before and
she stopped when she came to a long, black and white photo. It was a
beautiful photograph, taken in a garden on a sunny summer's day and full of
girls, some little and some older. She counted them; ...six, seven, eight girls,
all wearing white dresses. The eight sisters! She tried to remember their
names: Mary, Jane, Elizabeth, Anne, Sarah, Letitia, Catherine and the
youngest one, Charlotte. Helen realised immediately that the painting on the
wall downstairs was probably Charlotte and not her. For some reason this
made her feel much better. She relaxed and continued turning the pages of
the family album. There were more photos of the sisters in the garden,
sometimes with their parents, sometimes with people that Helen didn't
recognise.

But then something, or rather someone, made her stop. It was the
photo of a man, a blonde man. He was about sixty-five years old and the
sight of his face made Helen shake: it was the owner of the antique shop.
This photo was taken under an oak tree in the same garden as the others.
Helen saw, from the man's clothes, that it was the beginning of the last
century... but his face then was exactly the same as now, maybe one
hundred years later!

CHAPTER SIX

The Curse
 Before going to the antique shop Will decided to stop at his own
house first. His mother was in the kitchen, cooking.

'Hi Mum!' he called out. 'What are you cooking?'

'It's just some Yule bread,' she answered in a faint voice. 'Mrs
Mountford has just given me the recipe.'

Will noticed old Dorothy Mountford standing silently in the corner of

the kitchen. 'She came to invite me to the Yule party on Thursday evening
too.' Will thought there was something desperate in his mother's voice, as
though she wanted him to help her.

His mother was originally from London and the Village women' never
really considered her one of them. Their Yule ceremony was never open to
strangers and Will wondered why they invited her that year... and why she
said yes.

'Mum? Could you lend me some money? About 10 pounds?'

His mother smiled. 'Have you got to buy a Christmas present for your
girlfriend? That's so sweet.'

Will blushed. 'No, actually I've got to buy a book from the antique
shop and I don't know if it'll be expensive or not.'

Mrs Mountford looked at his mother and the expression on her face
changed. 'A book? About what?'

Will never lied to his parents unless it was an emergency and this
seemed to be one. 'It's a book about old steam trains.'

He knew his mother didn't believe him but she gave him a ten pound
note from her purse.

When he got to the shop he was happy to see that the two men were
not around. A young lady was working there that morning. He found the
one he was looking for without too much difficulty. It was all much easier
than he imagined. Before his luck started to change he ran out of the shop
and back to Helen's house.

The book was old, very slim and with illustrations rather than real
photos. Helen started to read the chapter about the Hollybrook curse.

Nobody knows for certain when the first witches arrived in

Hollybrook. People say that for centuries, the village history was full of
strange coincidences, mysterious illnesses, suspicious accidents and
unexplained events. They said it was the work of witches trying to keep
strangers away.

Their power is at its highest point every year during the night of the
winter solstice. This time is also known as Yule, the day when the sun
stands still. It is the shortest and darkest day of the year. Tradition says that
the witches must perform an ancient midwinter ceremony by burning the
wood of an oak tree. If they do this, their power will remain strong for the
coming year. They dance in a circle around the fire and watch the passing of
power from the Holly King to the Oak King.

Here Helen stopped.

'Are you following all of this, Will?! I mean, it's weird don't you
think?' Will was following. He was lost in the story and anxious for Helen
to continue.

The Holly King and the Oak King are immortal mythical figures;
each reigns for six months and then passes power to the other. The witches'
magic will not work unless these two take part in the Yule ceremony. Over
the centuries many people tried to break the magic circle and stop the
HoIIybrook witches. All those who tried, however, became victims of the
curse and died under its power. But tradition also says that if one of the
witches herself throws a firestone into the Yule fire, the circle will be
destroyed forever. No sign of the witches or the two kings will remain!

'Sounds like some kind of horror film,' said Will.

'Yeah, really spooky,' said Helen and they both laughed.

 'Just a minute, there's a bit here about the village witches' she
continued.

'It tells you who the witches are exactly... hold on, here we are. Baby
girls born in HoIIybrook during the Yule month are born with witches'
blood. They grow to be part of the circle and from the age of fifteen must
follow the others into the ceremony.' She closed the book and looked at
Will.

'What do you think? Is there something in it or is it just an old fairy

story?'

Will looked troubled. There was something about the story that he
didn't like. 'I don't know about the witches but I do know that our family
lived in this village for ages. If it's true, then think how many of them were
witches!'

Helen thought about the photographs. The eight sisters. Were any of
them witches? 'Probably the eight sisters were all born here. What if one of
them tried to stop it? What if Aunt Charlotte died because she tried to break
the circle and she...?'

'Helen!' Will interrupted her, almost screaming. 'How old are you?

'Don't ask stupid questions, Will.'

'When was your birthday?'

'You know my birthday was last week!!'

'Exactly!!' Will was almost screaming now.

'Will!! What's up?'

'Oh come on, Helen. I don't understand why we didn't realise before.

'Don't you get it??! You were born here! I mean, here... in this house!
Not in the General Hospital like I was. Girls born in the Yule month in this
village are born with witches' blood and when they're fifteen they have to
take part in the ceremony. That's what all this is about. It's your turn!!'

Helen looked at him speechless. Suddenly it was all clear. But Will
hadn't finished.

'And another thing...'

'What? What is it?'

'You know when the winter solstice is, don't you...?'

'No.'

'Helen, it's tomorrow!'

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Meeting

'Why is it so cold?' asked Julia as she put on a second extra jumper,

shivering.

'It's always cold at Yule time,' said Helen. She chose the word on
purpose to see her mother's reaction. Julia seemed terrified.

'What do you mean? What are you talking about?'

Really, Helen was as scared as her mother and changed the subject.
'Nothing, Mum. Let's just turn the heating up. Anyway, are you going with
Mrs Milsted this evening?'

'How did you know about that?' Helen saw that her mother was
shaking.
 'She came round to ask you a few days ago. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.
She invited me too, actually... What is it? Flower arranging club? Film
night?'

'Oh, just an old Yule thing they've organised down at Brook House. I
don't know if I'll go. It's one of those 'village things'. I'm not from
Hollybrook and I don't really want to get involved.'

This was the information Helen was looking for. Brook House was an
old house on the edge of the village. It was next to the wood, near the brook
that gave it its name.

'So, do you think I should go instead of you?' Julia didn't answer the
question but the expression on her face was easy to understand. The answer
was no! But Helen knew that she had to go. If she wanted to understand
what was happening, she had no choice.

It was almost eight o'clock when Helen arrived at Will's house. She
knocked on the door and her aunty Susan opened it.

She followed her aunty inside the house. Will and his father were in
the living room, watching TV.

'Well, I'll say goodbye now,' said Aunty Susan. 'Sorry but I've got to
get ready. I'm going out.' She waved, and as she went upstairs, continued.
'Your mum's not coming tonight is she? Say hello to her from me!'

'So,' said Helen, 'it's at the brook. I don't know if they're meeting in
the house or outside in the woods.'

'If there's going to be a circle of fire I imagine it will be outside,'

answered Will. 'What shall we do? Follow them?'

'Well, I'm invited. I should go... I know they're expecting me.'

'OK. If you're sure.'

Suddenly Uncle Jo spoke. 'I waited for this moment for many years,'
he said.
 Will's dad was sitting on the sofa. Both Will and Helen looked at him,
surprised to hear him join in the conversation. They didn't think he was
listening.

'What do you mean, Dad?' asked Will, confused.

His father looked sadly from his son to his niece. 'I'm sorry Helen, I
wanted to tell you about this a long time ago but you always seemed so
young. I didn't want to upset your mum or Bob either, so I didn't say
anything.'

'Uncle Jo what are you talking about exactly?' asked Helen. She had
the uncomfortable feeling that he was going to tell her something bad.

'The curse says that now you are fifteen years old you must become
one of them. You were born in the village in the Yule month. They need
Julia and Susan there too... it's something to do with cursing other blood
relatives. Charlotte told me about it before she disappeared, many years
ago. Luckily your grandmother was the eldest of the sisters. She was born
before the family moved here and she was never part of their circle. They
tried to get Aunt Charlotte, though. She was born in the village, in
December like you. And now it's your turn, you are the only one who can
put a stop to all this madness. It must be one of them... And you are one of
them! Think of your poor father. He knew about the curse and tried to stop
it before you were fifteen. And look what happened to him! Now it's up to
you.'

Helen stared silently at her uncle. What was he talking about? What
did all of this have to do with her father? He died many years ago. There
was an accident and... 'It wasn't an accident?' she asked horrified, as the
truth suddenly became clear. Her uncle shook his head.

'I don't think so Helen. I'm sorry.'

Helen stood up, her face was burning. She was more determined now
than ever. She was going to break the witches' circle and avenge the death
of her father. 'Uncle Jo, what's the Firestone? I have to throw a firestone
into the flames.'
 'I don't know. Nobody knows. It must be something precious,
something special.'

'The ruby on your necklace,' interrupted Will. 'That's why you have it.
The red stone in the middle must be the firestone. Quick! Let's run back
home and get it. We'll be just in time to reach the meeting.'

They ran out of the house without saying goodbye to Will's father.

The night was cold. Snowflakes fell silently through the air, the lights
of Christmas trees twinkled from windows. Brook House was at the edge of
the village and, as they walked, the night seemed to get darker and darker.

It didn't take them long to find the meeting spot. The flames were
visible from far away and the singing could be heard too. Will saw his
mother amongst the group of women and decided to hide. Helen went
forward; in her hand she held the necklace tightly. As she got nearer she
saw that two men stood in the middle of the flaming circle. One was
wearing a crown of holly and the other a crown of oak. They were the two
men from the antique shop. The older of the men signalled for the chanting
to stop. When there was silence he spoke and the village women turned to
see Helen arrive.

'So, here you are Helen. We were waiting for you,' he said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Firestone

The flames in the night danced and made shadows on the circle of
women. Helen looked around them, surprised to see how many faces she
recognised: Mrs Milsted, Mrs Smith, Mrs Mountford, the waitress from the
coffee shop.
 Then she stopped to look at the Oak King and the Holly King. They
were smiling at her now, but it was not a smile she liked.

'Open the circle and welcome our newest sister!' said the younger of
the two men.

The women took a step backwards. Then, the girl who Helen
recognised as the waitress stepped forward and held out her hand. In a voice
which was not her own, the girl said, 'Come sister, join the circle of magic.
You are one of us. Join the ancient power of darkness.'

Helen pushed the girl to one side and bravely ran towards the two
men in the centre of the circle. 'You killed my father!' she shouted. 'I will
never be a part of what you are doing here. You killed my father and now
I'm going to stop this madness forever.' She took the necklace from her
pocket and threw it into the middle of the burning oak branches. There was
a hiss and a large golden flame shot up from the middle of the fire. Then
nothing!

In the silence the Holly King laughed nastily. 'Do you really think you
can stop centuries of power with a silly trick like that?' He put his hand into
the burning flames and picked up the golden necklace. Helen could see the
ruby still shining in the middle. So it wasn't the firestone after all.

'Many times foolish girls like you have tried to stop us,' he continued.
'And none have succeeded.' He turned dramatically to face the waiting
circle. 'Let the ceremony continue!'

Helen was desperate. She was so convinced that the necklace was the
clue, the firestone. There must be something else.

From a distance Will hid behind a bush, watching. He was as

confused as Helen. He thought of the painting, the necklace, the whole
mysterious story...

There must be something that would help. He remembered looking at

the sad face of Aunt Charlotte in the painting and at the small bunch of
holly she was holding in her hand. What if that was the answer? Could the
holly berry be a firestone? It was too simple to be true but he had to try.
And by some strange coincidence Helen was thinking exactly the same
thing at the same time. Looking around her she saw berries on the holly
bushes. Holly versus oak. She remembered the book, 'If you dare to break
the magic cycle of the seasons then the evil circle of the witches will be
broken too.'

Without hesitation she ran to the nearest bush, broke a few red berries
from it and threw them into the fire.

The Holly King and the Oak King had time to see her but not enough
time to stop her.

As soon as the berries touched the flames, the air was filled with
green smoke, there was a howl like the sound of a dying animal, and the
two men disappeared.

The circle wasn't a circle anymore but a group of cold, confused

women. They started chatting quietly to each other and moving closer to the
fire to keep warm.

'Ooooh, it's so cold this evening,' said one of the women. 'Why ever
did we decide to come out on a night like this?'

'I brought some mince pies,' said Mrs Milsted. 'Does anyone want
one?'

'Good idea... And then let's go home and get warm.'

Nobody seemed to remember anything. Will joined Helen, who was

chatting to her aunty Susan and eating a mince pie. Around them other
women stood in little groups around the dying fire, chatting happily. When
the fire went out they all set off on their way home smiling, waving and
calling, 'Merry Christmas!'

'Merry Christmas!'
 Helen arrived home to find a surprise. Her mother was in the living
room with a very old lady.

'Look who has come to visit, Helen. It's your aunt Charlotte.'

'Aunt Charlotte? But...'

'You look very surprised to see me, my dear,' she said in a tiny voice.
'Everybody thought I was dead. But I sent you the necklace. How could I be
dead?'

Helen opened her mouth to speak again, but this time no words came
out. The old lady continued. 'I was the youngest of those eight sisters but
the only one born in December. I was the one who tried to stop the witches,
just like you did this evening. They told me my life was in danger and I had
to go away for a long time.'

'But what about the painting?'

'An old man, a certain Mr Church I think, painted it when I was about
your age. He was a strange old man and he told me here was something
important about it. He said, 'Charlotte, one day this portrait will help you.' I
didn't really understand what he was talking about and I didn't really like
the painting either. He kept it. I don't know how it got into that antique
shop... but I'm very glad it did.' She smiled kindly and Helen recognised her
pretty blue eyes from the painting.

'And why did you send me the necklace if the ruby wasn't the
firestone?'

The old lady smiled. 'Because it's such a pretty necklace and it was
your birthday. I'm too old for jewelry now, my dear.'

The house felt warm again, her mother was happy and the tree lights
sparkled like never before. The Hollybrook curse was broken.

'Will you stay with us for Christmas, Aunt Charlotte?' she asked.
 'I would love to stay with you for Christmas,' replied the old lady,
smiling.

- THE END -

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