House of Whispers

by R. L. Stine

  “I think I’m fine.” Amy hesitated for a moment, unsure how he would take her question. Then she plunged on. “Do you really believe a person can forget something like this? Someone dying in such a horrible way?”

  His expression grew grim, almost angry. His moods change so quickly, Amy thought.

  “I hope you can, but I never did,” he replied.

  Amy wrapped her arms around herself. “It happened so fast. One moment she was alive, the next . . . broken. It is like a dream. If I could just find a way to wake up, everything would be all right again.”

  David looked at her for a long moment. “I know,” he said finally. “It was the same in the war. One moment men were fighting beside me. The next moment, they were dead.”

  Amy could hardly imagine facing death after death. No wonder Angelica found David changed. The war would change anyone.

  But Amy could not believe he had come to enjoy killing. She could hear the pain in his voice when he talked about the men who had died.

  Amy sighed. “How could Nellie have fallen from the window? How could such an accident happen?”

  “It was no accident,” David said harshly.

  Chapter

  8

  It had been a week since Nellie’s death. But Amy could not stop thinking about her. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Nellie’s broken body.

  “Do you like it?” Angelica asked.

  Amy forced herself to smile, pushing the dark thoughts away. She turned in front of the mirror to admire the buttercup-yellow gown Angelica had given her. It really was the most elegant dress she had ever worn, but she still worried that she wouldn’t fit in at the ball tonight.

  Amy looked at her cousin’s reflection in the mirror. Angelica sat on the bed, Julia and Hannah on either side of her. “I love it, Angelica. Thank you.”

  “I wish I were going to the Harvest Ball,” Hannah said. “I would wear blue.” She tossed her blond curls. “And I would dance every dance with David.”

  “He’s too old for you,” Julia muttered.

  “That is quite enough, Julia,” Angelica said sharply.

  He’s not too old for me, Amy thought. She hoped David would be at the ball.

  She felt drawn to him. Despite Angelica’s warnings, despite his dark moods, she wanted to see him again.

  And she wanted to ask him exactly what he meant when he said Nellie’s death was not an accident.

  She should have asked him at the time. But she was speechless with shock for a moment—and he left before her mind started working again.

  He probably meant that Nellie deliberately jumped. But Nellie wouldn’t kill herself. She was too happy, too full of life.

  Julia came up behind Amy. “I want you to borrow my luck,” Julia said. She held out the silver bracelet.

  Amy’s throat tightened. Julia tried so hard to be liked. “Thank you, Julia. That is very nice of you.”

  Julia almost smiled.

  “You would not let me borrow the stupid bracelet,” Hannah muttered. Amy noticed Angelica did not reprimand Hannah the way she had Julia.

  “Amy, why don’t you sit down at the dressing table?” Angelica said. “I want to put some flowers in your hair.”

  Amy obeyed. She watched Angelica in the mirror as she tucked tiny yellow rosebuds into the shiny red-brown coils of her hair.

  “I want some in my hair, too!” Hannah cried.

  “Darling, I only have enough for Amy,” Angelica replied. “But we will put them in water after the ball tonight, and you can have them tomorrow.”

  “But I want to look pretty tonight,” the girl insisted. “I want to look as pretty as Amy!”

  “You are as pretty as Amy,” Angelica said. “Maybe prettier,” she added with a smile.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Amy stood with Angelica, watching the elegant people who crowded the ballroom.

  The room glittered. Three huge chandeliers blazed with light. The candle flames were reflected again and again in the mirror-covered walls. An arbor made of thousands and thousands of paper roses stretched behind the banquet table.

  Amy swallowed hard. She fingered the silver bracelet. Would she fit in? Or would she be the only girl no one wanted to dance with?

  She glanced around at the other girls, who seemed so fashionable and elegant. She felt completely out of place. Even if someone did ask her to dance, she would probably trip over her own feet.

  Amy started to excuse herself so she could escape to the washroom—and then she saw David.

  He was dancing with a beautiful girl. Petite with shining black hair. His injured arm did not seem to hinder him at all. Actually, he looked as if he were having a very good time.

  “Well, well. There is David. And Bernice Sutherland,” Angelica commented. “My, she has turned into quite a lovely girl. David always did have an eye for the prettiest ones.”

  Amy told herself she did not care. Still, she felt as if something heavy had settled into her chest.

  “Oh, Mrs. Fear!” someone called.

  Amy turned to see a tall, striking blond girl strolling up to them. She wore a silk gown the color of the sky. It exactly matched her eyes.

  “Hello, Chantal,” Angelica said. “Amy, this is Chantal Duvane, the daughter of old family friends.”

  Chantal looked Amy over without speaking. Then she turned to Angelica.

  Amy felt her face flush. Chantal had obviously decided she was not important enough to speak to.

  “Did you notice that your charming neighbor decided to come?” Chantal asked.

  “Which charming neighbor?” Angelica asked.

  “Why, David Hathaway, of course,” the girl replied.

  “Yes, I noticed,” Angelica replied. “But it seems that Bernice noticed first.”

  “Oh, he will tire of Bernice after the first dance,” Chantal said. “She is a complete ninny, and David has always preferred spirited women.”

  “Well, no one has ever accused you of lacking spirit,” Angelica said with a smile.

  Angelica is not even trying to include me in the conversation, Amy thought. She felt more uncomfortable than ever standing next to this elegant girl.

  Amy forced herself to smile—in case David happened to look their way.

  David waltzed by with his partner. A gleam came into Chantal’s eyes, a mixture of longing and jealousy that Amy understood all too well.

  “David looks handsome tonight, don’t you think?” Chantal asked. “That patch does not mar his looks at all. But then, good looks run in his family.”

  Angelica laughed. Amy had to grit her teeth. Obviously Chantal was interested in David. Very interested.

  Chantal whipped her fan open. “Mrs. Fear, I know mother told you that we are planning to attend your dinner party next month.”

  “Yes, she did.” Angelica’s right brow went up a notch.

  “Well. . .” The blonde hesitated, fanning herself. “I understand that the Hathaways are coming, too. I would be ever so grateful if you would seat me beside David.”

  “It seems David has conquered yet another heart, Amy,” Angelica trilled.

  She is determined to make me lose interest in David, Amy thought.

  The music ended. Amy’s gaze drifted to the spot where she had last seen David.

  She stiffened in surprise when she saw him striding toward her. Or toward Chantal. He was probably going to ask the blonde to dance.

  David reached their group and bowed a greeting. Then he held out his hand. “May I have this dance, Amy?”

  She had already started to turn away. Surprised, she swung back around. As she did, she caught sight of Angelica’s face. Her green eyes had gone hard and cold, and disapproval thinned her mouth.

  But Amy did not care. David had asked her, not Chantal. She felt as though she were floating.

  “I would love to dance,” she murmured.

  Taking her hand, David led her onto the dance floor. He put his uninjured arm around her waist. “You look p
retty tonight,” he said.

  “I . . . It is the dress,” she blurted. What a stupid thing to say! Chantal probably always knew the proper response for every occasion.

  “No, it is not the dress,” he replied. His arm tightened around her just a little, enough to set her heart beating fast. She had never felt like this before.

  Too soon, the music ended. David held onto her a moment longer than necessary, then took a step backward. It was over. Amy started to return to Angelica, but he reached out and touched her arm.

  “Would you like some punch?” he asked.

  She nodded happily. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her toward the banquet table.

  He stopped at a row of chairs along one wall. “Wait here,” he said, settling her into one of the chairs. “I will be right back.”

  Amy watched him continue on to the banquet table. It held trays of ham and turkey, pastries and fancy rolls. Huge silver bowls overflowed with fruit. Silver candlesticks held tall, white candles. The flames seemed to flicker in time with the music.

  The far end of the table held a crystal punch bowl. It had been cut in the shape of a swan, and floated on a bed of paper roses that matched those in the trellis.

  Amy studied the huge arching trellis behind the long table. She tried to imagine how many people had worked to make all those blossoms out of paper and wire. It was amazing.

  She glanced away in time to see Bernice Sutherland wrap her arm around David and lead him into the narrow space between the trellis and the wall. It does not matter, Amy told herself.

  But it did. He had forgotten her. How could she think that David would prefer her over these beautiful, sophisticated girls?

  Tears blurred her vision, turning the candlelight into a golden haze.

  Amy brushed the wetness from her eyes. But the flickering bright haze did not go away. It grew stronger.

  “Fire!” someone cried.

  The musicians stopped abruptly.

  A woman screamed. People rushed for the doors. Shoving and pushing. Overturning chairs and tables. Plates and glasses shattering on the floor.

  Amy could not move. Not until she knew David was safe. She ran toward the spot where he and Bernice had disappeared, fighting her way against the crowd.

  She could see the long banquet table. Behind it, fire licked hungrily at the trellis. As she watched, flames leaped to the curtains, jumping from window to window.

  “David!” she cried. “Where are you?” Amy pushed her way closer. She had to find him.

  Flames exploded through the paper blossoms of the trellis. Sparks and black ash sprayed everywhere.

  Amy staggered back. She raised her arm to shield her face and hair from the cascading sparks.

  Then someone burst through the burning trellis. A woman. Bernice Sutherland. She uttered a long howl of agony.

  The back of Bernice’s gown was on fire. Flames raced through the silk fabric. Too fast. In an eyeblink, her whole dress was burning.

  And then her hair caught fire.

  Shrieking, Bernice beat at the flames as she ran. Amy tried to catch her. But Bernice spun away, still screaming.

  Amy snatched up a tablecloth and raced after her.

  Flames poured from Bernice’s clothes, her hair. Blackened shreds of cloth peeled away from her and fell smoking on the floor. She screamed again and again, loud and high.

  “Bernice, stop!” Amy cried. “Do not run.”

  Bernice turned to face her.

  Amy gasped.

  Bernice’s skin bubbled like wax that was just starting to boil. Some of it fell away from her every time she screamed. Her hair clung to her scalp in sizzling clumps.

  Then her skin turned the color of charcoal, blackening like meat cooked too long on a spit. She looked like a doll, a flaming scarecrow, anything but a human being.

  Amy threw the tablecloth over the burning girl and smothered the flames.

  Bernice fell to the floor. Smoke oozed out from beneath the cloth. Smoke that reeked of burnt hair, and cloth, and flesh.

  Bernice’s screams stopped suddenly. She was out of pain now, Amy told herself. At least she was out of pain.

  Sparks rained down all around Amy. She looked up. The huge trellis swayed back and forth.

  The wood groaned like an animal in pain.

  There was no time to run. Amy flung her arms up as the flaming trellis fell straight toward her.

  Chapter

  9

  The banquet table tipped over with a crash!

  Amy felt heat blasting across her face.

  Then she flew off her feet backwards.

  She landed with a jolt that drove the breath out of her lungs. Something hard landed on top of her.

  The world shattered into black spots.

  Then Amy’s vision cleared and she found herself sprawled on the floor. David lay half on top of her.

  “Are you all right?” he panted.

  Amy coughed, the smoke choking her. “David . . . you saved me.”

  He got to his feet, and hauled her up beside him. “The next time I tell you to wait, I expect you to do what I say!” he snapped.

  Before she could say anything, David grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward the closest door. “Get out of here,” he growled.

  “But what about you?”

  “I will be fine.” He gave her a shove. “Now go! Before you end up like Bernice.”

  That got her moving. She wasn’t sure if she ran from him or from the fire. Amy shot one last look over her shoulder. But David had disappeared.

  Amy stumbled past Bernice’s body. A cloud of smoke hovered above it. Darker than the rest of the smoke. Darker and thicker. Oozing over every inch of the cloth covering Bernice.

  Despite the heat of the fire, something cold clawed its way up Amy’s spine.

  Go. Just go, she ordered herself. She dashed outside, coughing and choking.

  The air felt sticky, thick with the promise of rain. After the smoke inside, it smelled like heaven. Amy drew a breath.

  “Amy!” Angelica called.

  She turned to see Angelica walking toward her. Their gazes met. Through the crowd, Amy thought she saw tiny flames leaping in Angelica’s eyes.

  A deep, cold shiver raced up her back.

  Then, as suddenly as it had happened, the illusion faded. Angelica’s eyes appeared normal again. Amy let her breath out in a sigh of relief.

  “Amy, dear,” Angelica murmured, taking both Amy’s hands in hers. “We were so worried about you!”

  “Bernice is dead,” Amy whispered. “She was on fire, and now she is dead.”

  Amy wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop shaking. “I want to go home.”

  Angelica squeezed her hands. “Then I shall take you home.”

  Amy shook her head. She did not want to go back to the Fears’ mansion. She wanted to go home. Home to Maurepas. Home to her mother and father.

  But she could not. She was trapped here.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Amy curled up beneath the covers. But she was afraid to go to sleep. She knew her dreams would be full of death.

  Two people had died in front of her eyes—Bernice and Nellie. She wished it had never happened. She wished she could forget. She wished . . .

  A sudden thought made her sit up straight in bed. Two people had died. Angelica’s cards had tried to tell her there would be more death after Nellie’s, but Amy had not understood.

  Amy felt her heartbeat pound in her throat. She had turned the Death card up three times. Someone else was going to die. There had to be one more.

  Amy shuddered. Who would be next?

  This had to be a bad dream. A terrible nightmare. Any minute now she would wake up in her bed at home and everything would be all right.

  But she was already awake. And she was not at home.

  Click, click, click.

  Something tapped at her window. Who was out there?

  Amy flung off the covers and sc
urried to the window. She peered through the curtains.

  David stood in the garden below. He beckoned for her to come down.

  What did he want? Amy grabbed her dressing gown and put it on. Quietly, she slipped out of her room and headed downstairs.

  She held her breath at every creak of the floorboards. Angelica would be furious if she caught Amy sneaking out to see David.

  David waited for her at the back door. He took her hand and pulled her deeper into the garden—where they could not be seen from the house.

  “I’m sorry I was so rough on you tonight. I just had to get you out of the fire as quickly as possible. I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he explained.

  “I am all right,” she replied. “Other than being afraid to sleep. Afraid to dream, really.”

  “I know about bad dreams.” David turned his head, and the moonlight glinted on his black eye patch. “There are lots of things I do not want to dream about.”

  “From the war?” she asked.

  He nodded. His mouth tightened, and the lines in his forehead deepened.

  Amy began to shake again. It embarrassed her. She clasped her hands tightly together so David would not notice. But he did. She had the feeling he saw more with one eye than most men did with two.

  He reached toward her, then let his arm fall back to his side. “I am sorry you had to see such a horrible thing,” he said.

  “It was my first ball.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I do not think I want to go to another one—ever.”

  This time, David did not hesitate. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. Amy heaved a sigh as his warmth seeped into her.

  “How did it happen?” she asked.

  “Bernice wanted to talk to me,” he replied. “In private. She said it was very important. So we went on the other side of the trellis, where we could be alone.”

  “I know. I saw you.” Amy remembered how she had felt watching him with the other girl.

  “I planned to come right back,” he reassured her. “The moment we were out of earshot, Bernice began complaining because I danced with you. I told her it was none of her business, and started to walk away. She grabbed for me.”