The Sign of Fear

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The Sign of Fear Page 8

by R. L. Stine


  Fieran reared back with all his strength. Then he threw himself to one side. Pain shot like fire up his arm. But the suddenness of his movement loosened Conn’s grip.

  Fieran kicked out as hard as he could and knocked Conn away. He scrambled to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Conn shove himself up. Quickly, Fieran pivoted to face him.

  Conn and Fieran stared at each other. Fieran’s lungs pumped with the effort to take in enough air. Blood trickled down into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. He could feel more blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. It tasted bitter and metallic on his tongue.

  “You thought you were so smart, didn’t you?” Conn choked out. “Pretending to be beaten. Luring me here.”

  “And you fell for it,” Fieran came back. “You could hardly wait to make me crawl.”

  “You will crawl!” Conn screamed. “You aren’t strong enough to stop me, Fieran. I am going to finish what I started. I am going to kill you. Now!”

  Conn put his head down and rushed forward. Fieran started to leap out of the way. But his foot slipped. Conn barrelled right at him.

  No! he thought. I can’t go down. He’ll kill me.

  Conn ran into Fieran at full speed. His head smashed into Fieran’s breastbone. Pain exploded through Fieran’s chest. He fell to his back on the ground.

  Conn leapt upon him. His knees dug into Fieran’s arms. Fieran cried out.

  Then he felt Conn’s fingers wrap around his throat. “You are beaten,” Conn whispered. Fieran felt Conn’s hot breath upon his face. “I have beaten you, Fieran.”

  Conn pressed his fingers against Fieran’s throat. Inch by inch, Conn squeezed his fingers closed. Fieran coughed and gagged. He tried to roll from side to side. He freed one arm. But he was so weak he could hardly use it.

  His lungs ached as he tried to pull in air. It burned going down his dry and aching throat.

  I must breathe, he thought. I must have air.

  Conn’s fingers pressed tighter. Fieran’s eyes bulged. His ears filled with a high-pitched hissing sound.

  This is the end, he thought. I’m going to die here.

  And then the ground around him began to moan.

  Chapter

  23

  Fieran’s whole body trembled. He felt the ground around him heave and buckle.

  What is happening?

  Conn cried out in fear. His grip on Fieran’s neck loosened slightly. Fieran clawed at his throat.

  He heard the moaning sound again. It is the stones, he realized.

  “It’s the power!” Conn yelled. “The power of the stones.”

  The ancestors! Fieran thought. They have not deserted me! They have awakened the power of the stones!

  With new strength, Fieran dug his fingernails into Conn’s hands. Prying them away from his throat. He managed to draw in a shaky breath.

  “The power of the stones is on my side, Conn,” he rasped out. “You are evil. Even our ancestors are against you.”

  Fieran put his palm against Conn’s chin and pushed back. Strength flowed through him. He pushed harder and harder. Then he heard the bones in Conn’s neck begin to crack.

  Conn’s hands dropped away from his neck. Fieran sat up, coughing and choking.

  He glanced over at Conn. He crouched inside the stone circle. His mouth hung open. Spit dribbled down his chin. He stared up at the nearest standing stone. His eyes wild.

  The stone moaned and swayed.

  He is absolutely terrified, Fieran realized.

  “I’m being punished,” Conn cried out. “I have violated the holy place. Now the power of the stones will kill me.”

  Fieran pushed himself to his feet and ran over to Conn.

  “You are being punished,” Fieran shouted. “I asked the stones to punish you.”

  Conn screamed—a high, shrill sound that sent a chill through Fieran. Fieran dragged him directly under the stone.

  Conn fought Fieran like a wild thing. Fieran staggered back, away from Conn’s clawing fingers.

  Conn fell to his knees. He tried to crawl out of the circle. “I must get out! Away from the power of the stones,” he screamed.

  CRACK!

  The standing stone above Conn rocked on its foundation. Conn cried out—but he stared up at the stone without moving.

  The stone gave a groan that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth.

  Then plunged toward Conn.

  Conn gave one great shout. Then the stone hit him.

  Conn’s voice cut off in mid-cry.

  The earth gave one last heave, and then stopped trembling.

  The eerie silence of the circle descended. Fieran felt his legs begin to tremble. Then they gave way beneath him and he fell to his knees.

  Fieran used his last bit of strength to crawl over to the toppled stone. He could see one of Conn’s hands sticking out from beneath it. The rest of Conn’s body was buried by the stone.

  Conn is dead, Fieran thought. My enemy is beaten. But the power of the stones left me alive.

  Fieran knew he could no longer use Conn’s blood for his sacrifice. He had not killed Conn.

  He pulled out his knife and hacked Conn’s hand off. Then he stood on legs that still trembled and walked to the center of the circle. He placed the hand on the ground.

  “Thank you, my ancestors,” he called out. “Thank you for aiding me with the power of these stones.”

  He heard a laugh.

  A hooded figure stepped out from behind the stone in front of him.

  “It wasn’t the power of the stones. It was me, Fieran.” Brianna tossed back the hood.

  “Brianna!” Fieran cried. “You . . . ?” He didn’t understand. He couldn’t think clearly. He felt sick and dizzy.

  Brianna rushed to him. She fell down beside him on her knees.

  “Oh, Fieran, I’m so glad you’re all right,” she cried passionately. “I was worried my power wouldn’t be strong enough. I was worried that I wouldn’t be in time.”

  Fieran struggled to concentrate. She betrayed me. I caught her with Conn. Kissing him. Laughing at me. At how they used my power to trick me.

  What strange game is she playing now? “Are you saying you’re the one who saved me?” he asked coldly. He stepped away from Brianna. She continued kneeling on the ground.

  “But I know the truth about you, Brianna. Conn told me. I know that you loved him. I know that you helped him to become chief.”

  “I don’t love Conn, Fieran,” Brianna said intensely. She struggled to her feet. “I never loved him. I always loved you.”

  “I saw you together!” he accused.

  “Fieran, I swear to you, my love, it is true,” Brianna cried. “Conn surprised me at the ceremony. He pulled me into the fire with no warning.”

  Brianna gazed up at him pleadingly. Her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I had to cast that spell, Fieran. Don’t you see that?” Brianna begged. “He left me no choice. I would have died.”

  She caught her breath and stepped even closer to him. “But perhaps that is what you want now. Is it, Fieran? Do you want me to die?”

  Fieran could feel himself begin to weaken. He hated to see the tears glistening in Brianna’s beautiful green eyes.

  “What about later?” he said roughly. “Why didn’t you expose him?”

  Brianna bowed her head. “He threatened me, Fieran. He told me he would kill me if I didn’t keep quiet. He told me—” Brianna’s voice faltered and broke off.

  “He told me he would kill you. You, Fieran. It was bad enough that I cost you your dream. Bad enough that you could never be chief. I couldn’t let him take your life, Fieran. I loved you too much. I still do.”

  “And so you killed Conn today to prove it?”

  “Yes!” Brianna whispered passionately. “Yes, Fieran. When I heard of your message, I guessed you wanted to challenge Conn. I followed him to the stone circle. I wanted to help you. When I saw him choking you, I thought my life was over. So I made the earth tr
emble. I made the stone fall on Conn.”

  Fieran stared at her. Oh, Brianna, he thought. I want to believe you!

  “But I saw the way you kissed him. The way he held you,” he said softly.

  “Oh, Fieran,” Brianna moaned. “How this grieves me. I am so sorry you had to see that.”

  She reached out and stroked his cheek. He jerked his head away.

  “It was all an act,” she continued. “I had to do it. I had to make Conn believe I loved him. I didn’t have a choice, Fieran. If Conn doubted me, he would have killed you. I had to pretend to love him. I had to keep you safe.”

  Could he believe her? Was she trying to protect him all along?

  “Kiss me, Fieran,” she whispered. “Then you will know I’m telling the truth. You will know you are the only one I could ever love.”

  Fieran slowly lowered his lips to hers. Brianna’s lips were soft and loving. Fieran felt all his fears evaporate. Surely she couldn’t kiss him like this unless she truly loved him.

  “I love you, Brianna. I’m sorry I doubted you,” Fieran murmured. His heart filled with a fierce joy. They were together again. Nothing would ever separate them now.

  “I want us to get married, Brianna,” he said. “I want everything to be right between us.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Brianna responded. She nestled her head against his shoulder. “I want us to be married too.”

  “We can go to the village,” Fieran said. “I’m sure the elders will marry us at once . . . when we tell them about Conn.”

  “I will confess everything,” Brianna promised. “I don’t care if they punish me. All I want is to marry you, Fieran.”

  Fieran took Brianna’s hand and led her from the circle of standing stones. He glanced back over his shoulder. This place will always be important to me, he thought. I defeated my lifelong enemy here. And I won back my true love.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Fieran lay upon his sleeping pallet. Brianna curled in the circle of his arms.

  The elders married them that afternoon. All the village witnessed the ceremony. They wanted to throw Brianna and him a feast, but Fieran said no.

  All he wanted was to be alone with Brianna. Hold her in his arms and forget all the horrible things that had happened.

  He gazed down at Brianna. At his wife. She slept so peacefully. The firelight glinting off her coppercolored hair.

  Fieran felt his heart swell with happiness. Conn is defeated. Brianna is mine at last.

  Brianna opened her eyes and yawned. “Are you happy, beloved?” he whispered.

  Brianna smiled up at him. “I am very happy, Fieran. We will be together always now. No one can part us. Together we will be stronger than all the other people.”

  Fear snaked through Fieran’s veins. He had heard those words somewhere before. “Brianna,” he said, “I—”

  But Brianna placed her fingers across his lips. “Hush now, Fieran. We are together, and we will be together always. I will stand by you until the day you die.”

  Ice rushed through Fieran’s body. He shivered as he stared down at Brianna.

  Her face appeared to glow with happiness. With love.

  But Fieran knew it was an act. She didn’t love him. She didn’t love anyone but herself.

  Fieran had heard her speak those same words to Conn. Those exact words. And she sounded just as sincere. Just as loving.

  The ice in his veins began to boil. He knew what he needed to do. He knew what would take away his pain.

  Revenge!

  The desire for revenge pushed all other thoughts from Fieran’s mind.

  I will have my revenge. And now it will be twice as sweet. She has betrayed herself, and she does not even realize it!

  Chapter

  24

  The New World Massachusetts Bay Colony, 1679

  Revenge!

  Christina battled her way to wakefulness, her heart and mind filled with a single thought. Revenge.

  No longer will I be a terrified victim. From now on I will take revenge on those who hurt me.

  She stared at the silver pendant clutched in her hand. You put the desire for revenge into my heart, she thought. And you will help me keep it there. She slipped it over her neck and tucked it inside her dress.

  Christina sprang to her feet. She stared in disgust around Emily Peterson’s room. Then she strode over to the wooden bookcase. With a cry of rage, she grabbed it and rocked it from side to side.

  The wood groaned and shrieked—then the bookcase slammed onto its side. The tiny vials flew everywhere. Christina stomped on them with her heavy shoes. Glass crunched beneath her feet.

  The mirrors next, she decided. Christina yanked down all the mirrors she could reach, flinging them on the floor. She loved the sound they made when they shattered.

  She raced over to the shelf above Emily’s bed and pushed everything off with one sweep of her arm.

  I will put an end to all the evil, she thought. That will be my revenge.

  But it isn’t just the Petersons who are evil, Christina thought. They aren’t the ones who sold me.

  I must do the thing I used to fear the most. I must go home. I must face Aunt Jane.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It felt strange to be outside by herself. She had grown used to spending all her time in the dark Peterson farmhouse. Working and working.

  Spring has arrived, Christina realized. She spotted blossoms on the trees. But she didn’t have much time to enjoy the beautiful day. She wanted to reach Aunt Jane’s house as quickly as possible. Her aunt had gotten away with treating Christina badly for much, much too long.

  Christina’s heart began to beat faster when Aunt Jane’s house came into sight. She felt the silver pendant grow warm against her chest.

  Silently, she crept around to the back. Aunt Jane bustled around the yard baking pies.

  Perfect! She’s all alone. Christina moved closer.

  Her aunt didn’t notice. She had her back to Christina as she pulled a pie out of the brick oven. She cooed and clucked at it—as if it were a baby.

  Christina felt a sharp, bitter taste at the back of her mouth. That’s disgusting, she thought. She cares more for that pie than she does for me.

  “I make the best pies in all Shadyside village,” her aunt murmured.

  “I thought vanity was a sin, Aunt Jane.”

  Aunt Jane cried out and whirled to face Christina. She almost dropped her precious pie, but caught it at the very last moment.

  The red juice oozed out to stain the top crust. Strawberry, Christina thought. Always her aunt’s favorite.

  Aunt Jane’s eyes blazed with anger. “Look what you made me do, you stupid girl,” she shouted. “You almost made me ruin my beautiful pie.”

  Christina’s heart hammered in her chest. Her tongue felt dry. Her throat felt dry. The silver pendant burned against her chest. Hot as a cinder. Hot as her rage.

  Hot as her hatred.

  As hot as Christina’s desire for revenge.

  “What are you doing here?” Aunt Jane demanded. “I just saw Mistress Peterson. She did not say anything about giving you permission to come into town.”

  “I gave myself permission,” Christina answered.

  Aunt Jane’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll pay for your boldness, Christina Davis,” she muttered.

  “We must talk, Aunt Jane. It was wrong of you to send me to work at the Petersons’ farm. You seemed to care for my father. How could you do this to—”

  “Wicked girl. Who are you to question my decisions?” Aunt Jane lunged at Christina. The pie slipped and tilted. The red juice bubbled and hissed.

  Then the juice exploded out of the slits in the top crust. It spewed over Aunt Jane’s hands. More juice than could ever have been contained within the pie.

  Christina began to tremble. What is this evil?

  Aunt Jane screamed in agony.

  Christina wanted to rush to her aunt. Help her. But Christina’s feet felt rooted to the groun
d.

  “What is happening? What is happening?” she cried. Her voice sounded small and weak. She tried to force herself to take a step toward Aunt Jane. Just one step. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

  Christina watched in horror as the hot, red juice scalded her aunt’s skin. Huge blisters rose on her hands. Then they burst. Thick white pus oozed out and dripped down onto the ground.

  Her hatred of her aunt still pumped through her body. But she would never wish this on her aunt. Never. No one should endure such suffering.

  The pie slipped from Aunt Jane’s fingers. Steaming and hissing, it plummeted to the ground. Splashing the bubbling juice all over the front of her dress.

  Christina felt the silver pendant grow hotter against her chest. It is causing this, she thought. “Stop this!” she screamed. “Stop this now!”

  Aunt Jane frantically clawed at her hands. Trying to scrape off the sizzling juice. Blood poured from the open blisters.

  Aunt Jane’s clothes began to smoke. Christina could hardly believe it—the hot juice ate right through the cloth. Then it ate through the skin underneath.

  Christina tried to squeeze her eyes shut. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop staring at her aunt.

  Burning flesh fell away from her aunt’s body. Christina could see sections of white bone.

  The stench of rotten meat filled Christina’s nostrils. She choked and coughed.

  Aunt Jane twisted her head back and forth in agony. A thin trail of blood and saliva dribbled from the sides of her mouth. She held her hands out toward Christina. Skinless hands.

  “Help me, Christina!” Aunt Jane cried.

  Chapter

  25

  “I can’t,” Christina wailed. “I don’t know how.”

  Aunt Jane shrieked—a thin, high sound. “Help me,” she begged again.

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Hot tears ran down Christina’s face. “Oh, Aunt Jane, I didn’t mean to do this to you.”

  Aunt Jane staggered toward Christina. Her clothing smoked and smoldered. The steaming juice continued to burn her flesh away.

 

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