The Burning (13 page)

They continued through the dark, gloomy house in silence. The only sounds Daniel heard were the scraping of his boots on the threadbare carpet and the
tap-tap-tap
of the old housekeeper's white cane as she walked.

At the end of a twisting hallway Daniel saw a flicker of orange light from a corner room. “Your grandparents are in there,” Mrs. MacKenzie said softly, pointing. She turned, leaving him in the hall, and disappeared around a corner, her cane tapping its insistent rhythm.

Is the old woman completely mad? Daniel wondered. Or just unfriendly?

He took a deep breath and reluctantly approached the doorway. He saw a low fire crackling in a wide stone fireplace. Setting down his suitcase, Daniel stepped into the room.

His grandmother caught his eye first. Angelica was stretched out on a purple velvet chaise longue beside the fire. She wore an elegant black dress with a white lace collar.

She smiled at Daniel as he approached, but made no attempt to stand up. As she smiled, Daniel saw that her skin was delicate and translucent and tight
against the bone, making her face resemble that of a grinning skull. Her hair fell loosely down her back. It was as white as snow.

“Grandmother Angelica,” Daniel said with a slight bow. He reached for her hand, but she didn't offer it.

“Put another log on the fire, boy,” Angelica ordered.

“I beg your pardon?” Daniel had expected a warmer greeting from his grandmother.

“Do not dawdle. Do as I say,” Angelica insisted coldly, waving a slender white hand toward the fire. “Another log on the fire, boy.”

Daniel hesitated, then hurried to the fireplace to do her bidding. He could find no logs in the wood basket, so he piled on several sticks of kindling.

Then, wiping his hands, he turned back to his grandmother. “I am so pleased to meet you,” he said, smiling sincerely.

“You may go now,” Angelica replied curtly. Before the startled Daniel could reply, she started to scream:
“Did you not hear me? Go! Go! Go!”

Daniel gaped at her, trying to decide what to say or do.

“Pay no attention to her,” a high-pitched voice wheezed from behind him.

Daniel wheeled around and-saw a nearly bald old man hunched over in a wooden wheelchair. He had a thin brown blanket tucked over his legs. His face was yellow and sickly in the flickering firelight. He stared at Daniel through square-shaped spectacles with his dark eyes, eyes like tiny black buttons.

“Grandfather!” Daniel declared.

Simon Fear wheeled himself closer, both hands pushing at the large wooden wheelchair wheels. “Pay no attention to Angelica. She is mad! Mad as a loon!” He cackled as if he had made a joke.

Daniel glanced back at Angelica, who lay staring at the fire.

“Grandfather Simon, I am pleased to meet you,” Daniel said, turning back to the frail old man.

Simon extended a slender, spotted hand to his grandson. Daniel reached down to shake hands. He almost cried out. Simon's hand was unearthly cold!

“Joseph's boy,” Simon muttered, refusing to let go of Daniel's hand. Behind the eyeglasses the tiny black sparrow eyes had locked on Daniel's face as if trying to memorize every detail. “Yes, yes. I see Joseph in you,” he said and then coughed for several seconds, allowing Daniel the opportunity to remove his hand from the icy grip.

“My father sends his love,” Daniel said stiffly.

“Love? What is love?” Angelica chimed in from behind him. “What is love? I would really like to know.”

“Joseph has no love for us,” Simon said darkly, wiping saliva from his colorless lips with the back of his hand.

“I beg your pardon?” Daniel exclaimed.

“My son Joseph abandoned us. I tried to make him understand that we Fears have no choice but to stick together, to band together, to hide together against our enemies. But Joseph chose to disobey me.”

The light seemed to fade from Simon's eyes. He lowered his head. For a moment Daniel thought that his grandfather had fallen asleep.

“Put another log on the fire!” Angelica ordered impatiently. “Another log, if you please! Why must it always be so cold in here?”

“There do not seem to be any more logs,” Daniel told his grandmother.

An icy hand grabbed his wrist. Simon held him with surprising strength. “I told you to ignore her!” he snapped.

Daniel tried to pull free. The cold from Simon's hand seemed to sweep right through Daniel's entire body. “Grandfather—”

“You cannot hide from your blood!” Simon declared loudly, staring up at Daniel, tightening his cold grip on his grandson's wrist. “I told Joseph that when he was just a boy. You cannot hide from your blood and your fate.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Daniel stammered, trying to be polite.

“His brothers Robert and Brandon stayed,” Simon said. “But now they're gone too.”

“I never met my uncles,” Daniel replied softly.

“Now you are here, Daniel,” Simon said, smiling up at him, a frightening smile that sent shivers up Daniel's spine. “Now you are here to carry on my work.”

Daniel swallowed hard. “Your work? I—I came to celebrate your birthday, Grandfather. I—”

Simon ignored him. He had both hands up behind his collar, struggling to remove something
from around his neck. Finally he succeeded. With another frightening smile he tucked an object into Daniel's hand.

Daniel took a step back toward the fireplace and examined his grandfather's gift. To his surprise it was a piece of silver jewelry. Disk shaped, it was held by three silver claws, like birds' feet. On the disk were four blue jewels that sparkled brightly in the firelight.

What a strange gift, Daniel thought. He turned the pendant over. On the back he found Latin words inscribed:
DOMINATIO PER MALUM
.

“What do these words mean, Grandfather?” Daniel asked, studying the strange silver pendant.

“Power through evil!” Simon bellowed. His loud cry caused him to cough and wheeze.

Daniel studied the strange pendant, turning it over in his hands.

“Put it on,” Simon instructed him. “Wear it always. It has been in the Fear family since our days in the Old Country.”

Daniel obediently slipped the silver chain around his neck.

He tucked the pendant under his dress shirt.

And as the warm disk settled against his chest, he felt a surge of heat—and the entire room burst into flame!

D
aniel saw flames before him—the bright image of flames leaping tall into a black sky. A momentary image, a vision, lasting a second or two.

In the flames he saw a girl, a young girl, pretty and blond, twisting in the fire, twisting in agony.

The image disappeared. The girl and the flames vanished instantly.

The pendant still felt warm against his chest.

Simon smiled knowingly up at his grandson.

The strange three-clawed pendant has powers, Daniel realized, feeling fear and curiosity at once.

Daniel heard a tapping sound behind him. He turned to see Mrs. MacKenzie enter the room, bent over her cane, an unpleasant frown on her withered face.

“I have come to take the young gentleman to his room,” she announced coldly, glaring at Simon with her one good eye.

Simon didn't reply. He nodded. His eyes closed.

“Put another log on the fire, boy,” Angelica ordered. “I'm cold—so cold!”

Mrs. MacKenzie grunted her disapproval of her mistress. Feeling awkward and confused, Daniel picked up his bag and followed the old housekeeper out of the room.

Tapping her cane against the thin carpets, she led him through a twisting maze of dark halls. Then up creaking stairs to a large bedroom on the second floor.

Daniel followed her in. The room was cold. The small fire in the fireplace offered little heat. Mrs. MacKenzie made her way to the window and pulled the shutters open to allow some light in. But the windows were caked with soot.

She offered Daniel a helpless shrug, then hurried from the room, her cane tapping in front of her.

Daniel slumped onto the bed, shivering. “Why have I come here?” he asked himself out loud.

Shaking his head unhappily, he removed his pocket watch and studied it. Hours to go before dinner. And Simon's birthday party is several weeks away.

What will I do here? How will I spend the time?

Staring into the small, useless fire, Daniel wished he had never come.

*   *   *

Dinner was solitary and silent. Simon and Angelica were nowhere to be seen. Mrs. MacKenzie served Daniel his dinner at one end of the long dining room table. He had little appetite but forced himself to eat.

The next day he made his way into town and strolled around Shadyside Village, delighted to be out of the stale air and gloomy surroundings of the Fear mansion.

He found the town square pretty and pleasant. People smiled at him as he passed. Daniel was so good-looking and friendly, he often drew smiles from strangers.

A crowd of villagers had gathered at the edge of the square to admire a shiny new motorcar, one of the few “horseless carriages” that Daniel had seen in Boston. Eagerly he strolled over to see it. A strange-looking four-wheeled contraption of glass and painted metal.

A red-faced man in his shirtsleeves was straining hard, turning a metal crank at the front of the machine, trying to start it up. But in spite of the enthusiastic support of the crowd, the engine refused to sputter to life.

Chuckling to himself, Daniel stepped away and realized he was quite thirsty, probably from the dust that floated up from Shadyside's unpaved streets.

A small white-fronted general store on the corner caught his eye, and he made his way toward it, thinking of a cold drink.

As he pulled open the door, the aroma of freshbrewed coffee greeted his nostrils. He closed the door behind him. Then, stepping past a large wooden pickle barrel and several burlap bags of flour and sugar, he stopped at the long wooden counter at the back of the store.

A young woman dressed in a silky yellow high-collared blouse and long maroon skirt had her back to him. She was reaching up to arrange canisters on a shelf on the wall.

Daniel cleared his throat impatiently.

She turned and smiled, surprised to see a stranger in the store.

And Daniel fell in love.

She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Daniel thought, feeling dazed.

She appeared to be about his age with long dark hair that fell to her shoulders, creanqy pale skin, and green eyes that gleamed in the light from the store window.

Her smile, the most beautiful smile Daniel had ever seen, faded. “Are you staring at me?” she demanded. Her voice was lower, throatier than he had expected.

“Yes,” he replied. He couldn't think of any other reply.

Speechless. I'm speechless, he thought. Maybe coming to Shadyside was not such a bad idea after all.

He suddenly realized she was gazing at him with
concern, her broad forehead wrinkling above the beautiful green eyes.

He blinked. Felt himself blushing.

“Are you feeling well?” she asked, hanging back from the counter.

“I—I apologize,” Daniel managed to stammer. “I—I am thirsty. So”

“Would you like coffee? Or perhaps some some apple cider?” she suggested, her smile returning. “It is very fresh.”

Daniel adjusted the starched collar of his shirt. It suddenly felt very tight. “Yes. Thank you. Cider would be wonderful.”

“Well, it
is
good. I do not know if it is wonderful,” she replied dryly. With a sweep of her long skirt she made her way around the counter, carrying a tin cup toward the cider barrel across the aisle.

She walks so gracefully, Daniel thought, following her with his eyes. Like a poem. He suddenly wished he knew poetry.

She handed him the cup filled with cider. He took a sip. “Very good.” He licked his lips. He raised his eyes to hers and realized that
she
was now staring at
him
.

She glanced away shyly. “Are you new in town?”

Daniel told her he was. “Can you tell me of some interesting places I should see?”

She laughed. “Interesting? In
Shadyside?”

He laughed with her. He liked her sense of humor. And he liked the way her chin trembled
when she laughed. And he liked her low, velvety voice.

“Surely there must be something worth seeing,” he protested.

She narrowed her green eyes as she thought. “I am sorry. There really is not much of interest here—except perhaps the Fear mansion.”

Her reply startled Daniel. He decided to play innocent. “The Fear mansion? What is so interesting about that?”

Her expression turned serious. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It is a very frightening place. Horrible stories are told about it. I really do not know if they are true or not. It is said that the Fears live under a terrible curse, that the mansion is cursed, too. It is said that everyone who enters—”