House of Whispers

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House of Whispers Page 8

by R. L. Stine


  Amy swallowed hard, expecting a confrontation. But Angelica merely stared at her for a long moment. Then she pointed toward the stairs.

  Amy did not dare say anything. Grateful for the chance to escape, she ran upstairs to her room.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Amy awakened with a start. Someone was outside her bedroom door.

  The doorknob turned. The door creaked open.

  Amy peered into the darkness.

  Julia. It was just Julia standing in the doorway. Amy’s heartbeat slowed back down.

  Julia glanced nervously over her shoulder, as if to make sure no one was watching. Then she scurried inside and shut the door behind her.

  “Is something wrong?” Amy asked.

  Julia put her finger to her lips and shook her head. She took a battered, charred piece of paper from the pocket of her dressing gown and held it out to Amy.

  “Take this,” she whispered. “I found it on the ash pile behind the house. Do not tell anyone I gave it to you. Promise!”

  “I promise,” Amy vowed. “But—”

  Julia spun around and ran out of the room.

  Amy stared after her for a moment. Then she closed her door and started smoothing out the wrinkled paper.

  Her breath caught. This was her mother’s handwriting!

  Amy realized someone had tried to burn a letter to her from her mother. The paper rattled as her hands began to shake. Not in fear. In anger. Who had done this?

  Angelica, of course. Angelica did not want her in communication with her parents. Angelica wanted to have complete control over Amy.

  Especially now that she suspects I know the truth about her, Amy thought. How much did Angelica know? Did the cards tell Angelica that Amy had turned against her?

  All you can do is be careful and try to act the same way you always have, Amy told herself.

  She lit the lamp and held the paper close to the light. “Your father’s recovery is slow but steady,” her mother had written. The next few paragraphs were too scorched to read. Amy made a low sound of frustration.

  “Your father will not be able to leave Richmond for a while,” Amy read aloud.

  She held the letter to her chest, triumph rushing through her. They are in Richmond! David will be able to find them now. I can write to them, and tell them to make Angelica send me home!

  Amy found paper, pen, and ink, and sat down at the table to write. When she finished the letter, she sealed it and wrote her parents’ names and Richmond, Virginia on the outside.

  Now all she had to do was get the letter to David. She parted the curtains a crack and peered toward the Hathaway mansion. A light burned in an upstairs window. Good. Someone must still be up. She could slip out of the house and be back before Angelica missed her.

  A tiny movement caught Amy’s attention. She leaned forward. David stood on the other side of the garden gate, half hidden in the shadows.

  Amy smiled. He was watching the house. Guarding her.

  Her smile faded as she saw him start to turn away. “Do not go!” she whispered. “Oh, David, do not go yet!”

  Amy snatched the lamp off the table. Maybe she could signal him somehow . . .

  A sudden gust of wind shook the window. A tree branch clawed at the glass.

  A familiar feeling of dread rippled along Amy’s spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could feel it.

  A beam of light speared out from the open back door of the Fear house. David had returned to the gate. The wind ruffled his hair and tugged at his jacket.

  As Amy peered down, a shadow fell across the light. Amy opened the window as quietly as possible. She leaned out and spotted Angelica in the doorway.

  Angelica crossed the garden—heading straight toward David. What was she doing?

  Angelica stopped at the garden gate. Amy watched David for any reaction. But he was too far away to read the expression on his face.

  What are they talking about? Amy wondered. She would give anything to know.

  Angelica and David continued to speak, their heads close together. Then David swung on his heel and walked away.

  Angelica watched him go. When she turned back to the house, her teeth gleamed in a smile.

  Something bad was going to happen. Amy knew it. The air felt charged, as if a storm hovered right above the house. Amy did not like this. She did not like it at all.

  Slowly, Angelica raised her arms. The wind swirled around her. Leaves and shredded flowers whirled above the ground.

  The wind grew stronger and wilder, howling like a rabid wolf. The trees groaned as their branches bent.

  Angelica stood at the very center of the whirlwind—untouched. Only her hair moved, lifting in a veil of darkness around her head.

  Amy wanted to run. She wanted to bury her head beneath her pillows and pretend this was not happening.

  But she had to watch. She had to know.

  The weeping willows almost seemed to writhe in pain. Their branches lashed the fish pond into a froth.

  And there, in the deepest, darkest place beneath the willows, something began to glow. Two tiny balls of green fire.

  The balls moved to the edge of the willow. Amy swallowed hard, but her mouth stayed dry.

  Eyes. They are eyes, she thought.

  An animal’s eyes can catch the light like that, she told herself.

  But she knew it was no animal in the garden. Those eyes belonged to something . . . unnatural.

  Amy felt very glad David had gone home. And very glad she had not gone outside to give him the letter.

  The air flowing into Amy’s room turned colder. And she knew why. Angelica was using her dark powers. What did her cousin have planned?

  Angelica bowed to the glowing green eyes.

  Amy watched Angelica reach into her pockets. Then she raised her hands overhead again—a square of white cloth in each fist. The wind tore at the squares, whipping them like tiny banners.

  Dark splotches marred both cloths.

  Blood.

  Nellie’s blood.

  Chantal’s blood.

  What was Angelica asking for tonight? Another death?

  Amy shivered. She had underestimated Angelica.

  It would not matter to Angelica that Amy was part of her own family. If Angelica found out the truth about Amy, she would kill her.

  Because Angelica was evil. Pure evil.

  Chapter

  16

  Angelica dropped her arms. The wind died.

  “Evil,” Amy whispered.

  Amy watched Angelica walk back into the house and shut the door behind her.

  Then Amy noticed something that sent a shiver running through her.

  The glowing green eyes remained in the garden.

  They glared out from beneath the willow trees, then they began to move. Appearing and disappearing. They slid from one pocket of shadows to another.

  Amy could not see the creature itself. She caught glimpses of something big and black, so black that it might have been made of shadows. She was glad that she could not see anything more.

  The green eyes slid along the base of the garden wall. Then they moved back the other way. Almost, Amy thought, as if the creature were pacing back and forth.

  It is standing guard, Amy realized. Angelica summoned that creature to keep me on this side of the garden gate.

  Now she could not go to David.

  And Amy hoped with all her heart he would not try to come to her.

  She did not want to think about what that—that thing—would do to him.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Amy sat at the window and waited for the night to end. It took forever. But finally, the shadows in the garden grew thin. And the glowing green eyes dimmed.

  Amy watched as the edge of the sun appeared on the horizon. Light poured over the city, flooding into the garden.

  The eyes blinked out. A thin coil of smoke oozed from beneath the willows.

  Amy shuddered. Then she saw movement in the Hathaways’
garden. Her heartbeat quickened as she caught a glimpse of David.

  This might be her only chance to give him the letter. Angelica was surely asleep, and the servants would not be up for a few more minutes. She might just have time to get to the Hathaways’ and back without being discovered.

  Amy slipped through the quiet house and ran outside. Flowers lay broken on the ground, and leaves and twigs littered the path.

  A flash of white on one of the willow trees caught Amy’s attention. She went to investigate—and found three parallel slashes through the bark. They looked like claw marks.

  Amy’s nostrils flared. A nasty smell lingered there. She could not quite recognize it.

  Frowning, Amy took a step away from the tree. The tree would die. She did not know how she knew, but she did. It was touched by evil, and it would die.

  “Amy!” David whispered.

  She whirled around. He stood at the other side of the garden gate. Concern darkened his expression.

  “I am so glad to see you!” she called softly.

  She ran to him. But when she tried to open the gate, she found it locked. Her gaze rose to David’s.

  “Angelica locked it last night,” he told her. “She said I would never set foot in her garden again. And that I would never see you.”

  “She cannot stop us from being together.” Amy reached through the iron bars, and David grabbed one of her hands.

  “I know. Kiss me,” David said.

  Amy pressed her face against the bars. Her lips could barely brush his.

  David gave the bars a fierce yank. “I would like to tear this down,” he growled. “She locked it right in front of my face, and then she laughed.”

  Amy reached into her pocket and took out the letter. She had to get back inside. “I discovered that my parents are in Richmond,” she told him. “Do you think you can find them?”

  “I’ll try. It will be easier now that I know what city they are in,” he replied. “But Amy, we cannot wait until your parents send for you. You should leave now.”

  “You know I cannot,” she protested. “And you know why. It is too dangerous. You have no idea how powerful Angelica is.”

  Amy glanced over her shoulder at the house. The servants would be moving about now. She could not chance being caught. Not this morning. “I need to get back before someone sees us,” she whispered.

  She started to turn away. But David would not let go of her hand.

  “I must see you again,” he said. “Meet me here tonight.”

  “No! Not at night!” Amy heard her voice tremble. “Promise me you will never come here at night!”

  “Why?” he demanded. “She cannot watch us every moment.”

  “Promise me!” she hissed.

  “But I do not understand—”

  “David, you asked me to trust you, and I did,” she said. “Now I am asking you to trust me. Please, please do not try to come here after dark.”

  He stared at her for a moment. Then he nodded. “I promise. But when will we be able to meet?”

  “Watch for me. I will try to come out before it gets dark. But if I cannot, I will be here this time tomorrow morning.” Amy pulled away from him.

  “I love you,” he said.

  She blew him a kiss, then turned and hurried back to the house. She heard someone coming down the back stairway, so Amy slipped around to the front of the house. She crept inside and quietly closed the door behind her.

  “Amy.”

  Angelica’s call came from the parlor. Amy wanted to run. Instead, she walked into the room, trying to appear calm.

  Angelica sat on the sofa, sewing. Just like a thousand other women in the city, Amy thought. But Angelica was unlike any of them.

  “Good morning, Angelica,” Amy murmured.

  Angelica looked up and smiled coolly. “You are up early, my dear.”

  “I am always up early,” Amy replied.

  Angelica inclined her head. “True. Come closer, Amy.”

  Amy obeyed. She had no choice.

  Angelica looked so beautiful in the morning sunlight. Her eyes were bright, her hair shiny. Her skin was glowing with health.

  “You look well this morning, Angelica,” Amy said.

  “Thank you,” Angelica replied. “It must be because I am so excited about tonight’s celebration.”

  “Celebration?” Amy asked.

  “It is All Hallows’ Eve, dear. We are going to have a party tonight,” Angelica explained. “I was wondering if you would help me decorate the house today. Your mother told me that you have a talent for such things.”

  “Of course,” Amy replied. How much did Angelica know? Did she think Amy was sneaking out simply to see David? Or did she realize that Amy had discovered the truth? The truth that Angelica was a murderer.

  “Oh, good!” Angelica exclaimed. “I love All Hallows’ Eve. I think it is the best holiday of the year.”

  “Better than Christmas?” Amy asked. She wanted to appear interested in the celebration—to keep Angelica off guard.

  “Oh, yes.” Angelica laughed. “We are going to have so much fun!”

  At least there will be lots of people around, Amy told herself. Although that did not help poor Bernice. She pushed that thought away.

  “What would you like me to do first, Angelica?” Amy asked.

  “I want every vase in the house filled with flowers, and perhaps some fall leaves and berries,” Angelica said.

  “When the girls come downstairs, they might like to help me,” Amy said. “I enjoyed such things when I was their age.”

  “Oh, the children are spending the day with some friends,” Angelica replied. “One of the servants is driving them. They left before dawn because it is such a long trip. But they will return in time for our party.”

  She is lying, Amy thought. She wanted the children out of the house for some reason.

  Amy suddenly realized how still the house was. Where were the servants? Were they gone too?

  “Is the cook preparing something special?” Amy asked.

  Angelica shook her head. “I decided to give all the servants the day off. Now they will be able to enjoy the holiday too.”

  Angelica wanted the house empty. Why? What does she have planned?

  The cards, Amy thought. The cards would tell her. If she learned what Angelica was planning, she would have an advantage.

  But Angelica would not let Amy out of her sight. They gathered greenery from the garden together. They ate their noon meal together. They worked on all the flower arrangements together.

  Amy grew more and more anxious as it got later and later. It will be dark soon, she thought. I need to know Angelica’s plans now.

  Amy glanced over at Angelica. She was absorbed in arranging greens on the mantel. Amy picked up a vase and deliberately spilled water all over her dress.

  “Ohh!” Amy gasped. “I am so clumsy. I’ll just run upstairs and change my clothes.”

  “Very well,” Angelica answered, sounding annoyed.

  Amy dashed up to the third floor. If she was gone too long Angelica would become suspicious.

  The air in Angelica’s study felt thick and smelled musty, as if the room had been shut up for years. But the moment Amy touched the cards, her awareness of everything else faded.

  “Angelica is not the only one with power,” she murmured. Her hands began to itch and burn, and Amy began to shuffle the deck.

  The cards seemed to be in a hurry, as though they needed to tell her something that could not wait. What is Angelica planning? Amy thought.

  Amy cut the deck into three piles, then stacked them together, right to left. The cards felt hot. Her hands started to shake.

  “What is it?” she whispered. She set the cards down and turned over the top one.

  Death.

  She shuddered. Of course. Death followed her everywhere.

  Her breath rasped in her ears as she turned the next card over.

  Death.

  No.
Amy stared down at the two identical cards. It is not possible, she thought. There is only one Death card in the tarot.

  Gingerly, she reached out and flipped over the entire deck. Cards slithered across the polished wood of the desk.

  Amy let out a sound that was part gasp, part sob.

  Death.

  Every card Death.

  Chapter

  17

  “No!” Amy cried. “I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me. I must know more. I have to know who will die!”

  She picked up the cards but they were cool and lifeless in her hands. There was nothing more to learn from them.

  And then Amy realized what the cards were trying to tell her. Angelica’s next victim would be Amy. That was why every card was Death.

  Stay calm, Amy ordered herself. Try to stay calm. Remember what happened to Mrs. Hathaway. The cards showed she would be the next to die. But you and David were able to save her.

  Amy had to return to Angelica before her cousin became suspicious. Then she had to find a way to escape. Oh, why couldn’t the cards have told her more?

  Amy quietly slipped out of Angelica’s study and shut the door behind her. As she scurried down the hall, she stepped on something hard. Something that cut through the thin sole of her shoe.

  Amy leaned against the wall and pulled the sharp object out of her foot. What is it? she wondered. She turned it over in her hands.

  Bone, she realized. It is a piece of bone!

  Amy shuddered and threw the bone down. She again heard Julia’s warning: It ate him—flesh and bone and blood. Was the evil creature Julia had seen that night loose in the house again?

  Amy raced down to the second floor. Her hurt foot throbbed as she rushed along the hall to the main staircase. She ignored the pain.

  She grabbed the banister, ready to dash down the curving staircase. But the banister felt slick. Amy raised her hand and stared at her palm. It was covered with blood.

  Flesh and bone and blood. The words echoed through Amy’s mind. It ate him flesh and bone and blood.

  Amy swallowed hard. She plunged down the marble steps, taking them two and three at a time.

  Better to break her neck, she thought, than to let that evil thing have her.

 

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