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The Sign of Fear

Page 10

by R. L. Stine


  “It would have been better if you had not challenged me, Fieran,” Brianna said.

  Fieran gazed up at her. This is the end of everything.

  Brianna plunged the knife into his chest.

  Fieran’s blood exploded from his body.

  He saw it spurt out in a great arc.

  His hot blood sprayed across his face, his chest, his legs.

  Too much blood, he thought. Too much blood.

  He pressed his hands over the hole in his chest. But the blood ran out through his fingers.

  Brianna, you have killed me, Fieran thought.

  Fieran struggled to stand. I want to see the forest, he thought. Just one last time.

  But his legs refused to obey him. He shoved himself to his knees, then tumbled over onto his side. He lay still. Panting and gasping.

  Fieran watched his blood spread out like a lake on the floor.

  “Watch me, Fieran,” Brianna called. She reached up for the silver amulet. It twisted on its long chain. The blue stones turned red in the glow of the fire.

  “You thought I wanted you,” Brianna said. “Just as Conn thought I wanted him. But both of you were wrong, Fieran. You were both blind fools.”

  Fieran felt the life draining out of him. Flowing out of him with his blood.

  “There is only I one thing I want. Only one thing I have ever wanted.”

  “Power,” Fieran rasped out.

  Brianna nodded. “Power is the only thing worth wanting, Fieran.”

  Fieran’s chest felt tight. His breath came in and out in ragged gasps.

  I But he no longer felt any pain. A soothing numbness filled his limbs.

  I will die very soon now, he thought. And Brianna will have all the power she wants. She will have the amulet.

  The amulet!

  Fieran watched as Brianna knelt down beside him. She held the amulet in her right hand. She pressed the disc of silver against Fieran’s chest. Fieran’s heart’s blood flowed over it.

  She uses my blood to bring power to the amulet. She made me her sacrifice.

  Brianna stood up swiftly and held the amulet out toward the Roman head.

  “Blood!” she cried in a loud voice.

  The eye sockets of the Roman head glowed. Blazing so bright, so bright green, that Fieran winced.

  Revenge, he heard the head say in its ghastly voice.

  Fieran’s eyes flew open. I see now, he thought. Too late, I understand.

  He gave a terrible laugh. Blood bubbled up into his throat. Fieran choked and coughed. “Revenge,” he gasped out, staring up at the head of the Roman leader. The powerful warrior he killed.

  Father, you were right, Fieran thought. I am paying for my bargain after all.

  “Your revenge,” he said to the Roman head. “Your revenge, not mine. Your revenge on me for killing you.”

  The head opened its jaws and laughed. The sound echoed off the walls of Fieran’s cave.

  Revenge, the head boomed again. Your blood. My revenge.

  “And mine,” Brianna said. “My revenge, for all the years of being thought weak and helpless.” Brianna thrust the bloody amulet into the fire. Then she pulled it back, still smoking with heat, and hung it around her neck.

  The eyes of the Roman head began to pulse. Brianna threw her arms above her head.

  “Power,” she cried out. “I can feel the power, Fieran. Power to last for all eternity.”

  Brianna knelt down on the floor beside him. She took his head between her hands.

  “I’m sorry that you have to die like this, Fieran.”

  “Save your sorrow,” he gasped out. “It will not last long. Neither will your power.”

  Brianna’s grip on his head tightened. In some far corner of his mind, Fieran knew that it should hurt. But he felt nothing now.

  “What do you mean?” Brianna demanded.

  Fieran drew a deep breath. Bloody bubbles foamed between his lips. “The power will not last for all eternity,” he said. “Just for your lifetime. The power will die with you.”

  “No!” Brianna cried out. “The power of the amulet is supposed to last forever.”

  “As long as my family lives,” Fieran said. “But we have no children, Brianna. You killed me before we could create any. So now the power of the amulet will die with you.”

  He stared up at Brianna. He wanted the horror on her face to be the last thing he saw.

  But Brianna’s expression changed from fear to triumph. “I would not be so sure of that, Fieran.”

  Fieran struggled to take in a breath. “What are you saying?” he demanded.

  “I am saying that I carry your child.”

  His child! Fieran could hardly believe it. They had only been married for one night.

  “You can’t know that,” he gasped out. “It’s too soon. You can’t know.”

  “I am absolutely certain, Fieran.”

  At the horrified expression on his face, Brianna laughed. “Do you think I am powerful enough to kill a man, but cannot read the changes in my own body? My power tells me I am pregnant. It tells me everything I need to know.”

  Brianna rose and crossed to the brazier. Above her shoulder, the eye sockets of the Roman head glowed.

  She can’t be certain, Fieran thought, as he stared at her. It can’t be true.

  But he remembered how powerful Brianna was, even without the amulet. And in his heart, he knew her words were true.

  “The child will be a boy, Fieran,” Brianna went on. “He will never know you. But I will make sure you are not forgotten. I will name him after you. His name and his power will live for all time.”

  “Brianna,” Fieran pleaded. “Brianna, no.”

  “I will call our boy-child Fier, Fieran. He will be the first in a line that will continue hundreds and hundreds of years.”

  “Don’t do this, Brianna. I beg you,” Fieran choked out.

  Brianna shook her head. “It is too late for regrets, Fieran. Our family, your family, will live forever. And so will the power you helped me create.”

  Dominatio per malum. Power through evil.

  A curse, Fieran thought. I brought a horrible curse on my family. And the amulet is the sign. The sign of the evil I released into the world.

  Into my own family.

  I cannot stop it, he thought. But I am sorry.

  Sorry that I brought the silver amulet into this world.

  The sign of fear.

  Chapter

  29

  The New world Massachusetts Bay Colony, 1679

  “The Fier amulet!” Matthew cried out. “My family heirloom. You had it all the time!”

  “Matthew!” Christina exclaimed, horrified by his strange expression. “You must believe me. I didn’t know.”

  Matthew started toward Christina. But Emily jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow and shoved him away.

  “Beautiful. Beautiful. It must be mine!” Emily dove for Christina. Her withered hands reached for the silver amulet.

  The amulet grew warm around Christina’s throat. No, she thought. Oh, no. It is happening again!

  “Run!” Christina screeched. But it was too late.

  She tried to tear off the amulet. But she could not move.

  The candle on the table exploded. Sparks showered across the floor. The dry wood floor.

  Fire raced along the floorboards. Flames leaping higher and higher. Consuming the walls and the ceiling.

  The fire raced like lightning up Emily’s dress. Emily screamed. She reached down to tear the burning fabric from her body. The fire leapt onto her hands.

  It raced along her arms. Up her shoulders. Up her neck.

  Emily whipped her head from side to side. The edges of her long blond hair touched the fire—and her whole head burst into flames.

  Hunks of burning hair flew toward Christina. The hot embers scorched her.

  “Mother! Mother, no!” Mistress Peterson screeched. She flung herself on Emily, trying to smother the fire with her
body.

  But the fire burned too hot. Mistress Peterson’s thick skirts went up like a torch.

  “Mother!” she cried out once more.

  And then Christina heard nothing but the roar of the flames.

  They are dead. They are both dead!

  Suddenly Christina could move again.

  “Matthew!” Christina screamed. “Help me!” She could not see him. The smoke in the room was too thick.

  “I’m here,” Matthew called out. But Christina still could not see him.

  A wall of fire cut the room in half. She stood on one side. Matthew on the other. “Matthew!” Christina cried again.

  Craaack!

  The ceiling above Christina split open wide. One of the support beams crashed down. Pinning Christina beneath it.

  “Matthew, where are you?” Christina shouted.

  Matthew burst through the fire. His wore his coat wrapped around his head to protect him from the flames.

  “Over here!” Christina shouted. “I’m trapped.”

  Matthew dashed to her side.

  “Matthew! Thank goodness!” Christina exclaimed. “The flames are everywhere and I can’t move.”

  Matthew reached down.

  Christina reached up.

  Matthew grabbed the silver amulet. He tore it from around Christina’s neck.

  “This is my family’s heirloom! You had it all the time!”

  He only cares about the amulet, Christina thought in sudden terror. He doesn’t care about me at all.

  “Matthew,” Christina said. “You must believe me. I didn’t know. I never would have kept the pendant for myself if I had known it belonged to you. I would give anything to you, Matthew. I love you.”

  Matthew cradled the silver amulet between his hands. Then he stared down at Christina, a dazed expression in his eyes.

  “Love,” he repeated. “I thought I loved you. I truly did. But I know the truth now. I felt the call of the amulet—not love.”

  Matthew shook his head. “I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you at all.”

  He’s going to leave me, Christina realized. He’s going to leave me here.

  “Matthew!” she cried. “Don’t do this! No! Don’t let me die here.”

  Matthew put the amulet around his neck. Then he turned toward the door.

  “Matthew,” Christina called again. But her voice was drowned out by the groan of the ceiling above her head.

  Sparks rained down from the ceiling like shooting stars. Flames licked at the remaining beams.

  But Matthew paid no attention. He strode through the wall of flames. “I have the amulet!” he cried out, his voice joyful. “The Fier amulet is mine!”

  Chapter

  30

  Christina gasped and choked. Smoke filled the room.

  She needed air. She needed fresh air to breathe. To stay alive.

  A piece of burning wood hurtled toward her from the ceiling. Christina tried to roll away from it. Tried to keep the fire away from her hair. But her legs were still trapped beneath the beam.

  Bang! The chunk of wood slammed into the floor inches above Christina’s head.

  I’m not going to let this happen! she thought. I’m not going to die here!

  Christina thrust her legs against the beam. The smoldering wood groaned. She felt it give—just a little.

  Pain shot up her legs. My legs! What if they’re broken?

  Don’t think about that, Christina told herself. Concentrate on moving this beam. Concentrate on getting out of here.

  Christina struggled to sit upright. Then she grabbed the beam with both hands. She gasped as the hot wood burned her palms. She pushed it as hard as she could. Every muscle working.

  The beam rolled once. Then it rolled again.

  Christina yanked her legs out from under it.

  I did it! I’m free!

  Christina scrambled to her hands and knees. She screamed as the blood rushed back into her legs. But she staggered to her feet.

  The fire roared all around her now. I’m completely surrounded, she thought. Christina pulled off her petticoat. She wrapped it around her head.

  And then she ran. Ran with all the strength she still had left within her. Ran through the towering flames.

  The flames beat against Christina’s face. Even through her petticoat, she could feel the fire singe her hair.

  Sweat poured down her face. It stung her scorched skin.

  Christina burst through the wall of flames. She heard the ceiling cave in behind her.

  She yanked the Petersons’ front door open. Her petticoat burned like a fireball. She whipped it off and dashed into the yard.

  Matthew Fier galloped past her on Thunder.

  He never looked back.

  Christina sank to her knees in the Petersons’ front yard. Oh, Matthew, Christina thought. You were right. I see that now. You loved your family’s heirloom. You wanted it more than anything else.

  But you never wanted me. You never loved me!

  That disc is the sign of the life Matthew has chosen, she thought. The sign of what Matthew will become. She shivered, in spite of the heat of the fire behind her.

  Christina remembered the words engraved on the back of the amulet.

  Dominatio per malum. Power through evil.

  Those words are a curse, she thought.

  Oh, Matthew, what have you done? Now you will never know happiness. Now you will never know love.

  You have traded your soul for power—and a lifetime of evil.

  I loved you, Matthew. We could have made a life together.

  But you chose a different way.

  You chose the sign of fear.

  About the Author

  “Where do you get your ideas?”

  That’s the question that R. L. Stine is asked most often. “I don’t know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can’t wait to write.”

  So far, he has written nearly five dozen mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them bestsellers.

  Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane, and son, Matt.

  BOOKS BY R. L. STINE

  99 FEAR STREET: THE HOUSE OF EVIL

  THE FIRST HORROR

  THE SECOND HORROR

  THE THIRD HORROR

  THE FEAR STREET SAGA

  THE BETRAYAL

  THE SECRET

  THE BURNING

  FEAR STREET SAGA COLLECTOR’S EDITION

  FEAR STREET SUPER CHILLERS

  PARTY SUMMER

  SILENT NIGHT

  GOODNIGHT KISS

  BROKEN HEARTS

  SILENT NIGHT 2

  THE DEAD LIFEGUARD

  CHEERLEADERS: THE NEW EVIL

  BAD MOONLIGHT

  THE NEW YEAR’S PARTY

  GOODNIGHT KISS 2

  SILENT NIGHT 3

  FEAR STREET CHEERLEADERS

  THE FIRST EVIL

  THE SECOND EVIL

  THE THIRD EVIL

  THE CATALUNA CHRONICLES

  THE EVIL MOON

  THE DARK SECRET

  THE DEADLY FIRE

  FEAR STREET SAGAS

  A NEW FEAR

  HOUSE OF WHISPERS

  FORBIDDEN SECRETS

  THE SIGN OF FEAR

  FEAR PARK

  THE FIRST SCREAM

  THE LOUDEST SCREAM

  THE LAST SCREAM

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK Original

  An Archway Paperback published by

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyrig
ht © 1996 by Parachute Press, Inc.

  THE SIGN OF FEAR WRITTEN BY CAMERON DOKEY

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-671-00291-0

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4424-7369-0 (eBook)

  First Archway Paperback printing December 1996

  FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.

  AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Cover art by Lisa Falkenstern

  IL 7+

 

 

 


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