Free The Secret by R.L. Stine Page B

over to retrieve it. And—she fell into the well….”
    He swallowed hard. “Delilah tried to help her, but she couldn’t reach her.”
    He stopped again. He was breathing noisily, his chest heaving under his dark robe.
    â€œWhy?” Jonathan asked. “Why did you make Delilah do all this?”
    â€œWe had to frighten you, to make you desperate,”answered the clergyman. “So desperate you would do anything to stop the horrors. So desperate you would marry Delilah. We were so poor, you see. So poor—”
    â€œBut I loved her,” said Jonathan. “I would have married her anyway.”
    He dropped to his knees beside Delilah’s dead body. Her mouth had fallen open, and a trickle of blood ran down her chin. Jonathan stared at the body as if it belonged to a stranger.
    The minister shuddered violently now. “I know you cannot forgive me,” he pleaded with Ezra, “but please, please do not kill me!”
    Ezra’s face hung slack. The anger faded from his eyes. The rifle fell from his hands and clattered on the church floor.
    â€œMy wife—my daughter—” he murmured. “The curse…”
    His face had become as pale as Delilah’s. His thin lips barely moved as he whispered, “The curse. The Fiers are truly cursed….”
    His hands flew to his head and he uttered a sorrowful wail and tore at his graying hair. Then he ran from the church, screaming.
    Jonathan heard a horse whinny. Then a piercing scream, and finally a sickening crunch.

Chapter 18

    â€œW hat was that?” Jonathan cried, knowing the answer to his question.
    He ran outside. A small crowd had gathered around a horse and wagon.
    Jonathan shouted, “Papa! Papa!” and pushed through the silent crowd.
    â€œPapa!” Jonathan cried, seeing Ezra sprawled on his back, a dark open wound in his side, blood puddling on the dirt street.
    â€œGet the doctor!” someone cried. “This man has been trampled!”
    Jonathan knelt beside his father. Ezra’s eyes rolled around blindly for a second. Then they focused on Jonathan.
    Ezra lifted his hand and let it fall on the silver amulet.
    â€œTake this,” he whispered to Jonathan. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength. “Jonathan—”
    His voice grew weak. “The power of the Fiers is in this amulet. You must wear it always. Use it—use it to avenge my death.”
    Ezra took one last, shuddering breath. Then blood poured from his mouth. His eyes froze in a fixed and lifeless stare.
    â€œPapa—” cried Jonathan. “Papa …”
    Jonathan buried his face in his hands and sank deeply into his sorrow.
    So many people have died, he thought. Abigail, Mama, Delilah, Papa. All because of this dreaded curse.
    His father’s strange silver pendant glinted in the sun.
    The curse dies with my father, Jonathan thought. I will put an end to it, here and now.
    No minister would give Ezra a funeral or allow his body to be buried in a church cemetery. He had been insane, a murderer, Reverend Wilson had warned. So Jonathan had Ezra’s body cremated. Now all that remained of Ezra was a jar of ashes.
    Rachel cried herself to sleep. Jonathan listened helplessly to her sobs, every cry torturing him.
    He sat by the hearth, waiting for her crying to stop. At last the house grew still, and he knew she was asleep.
    He took Ezra’s ashes and poured them into an iron strongbox. Then he picked up the silver pendant.
    To Jonathan’s surprise, the pendant grew hot in his hand. He saw flames, flames he thought would swallow him up.
    But the flames died as quickly as they had appeared. And the jeweled pendant cooled.
    Jonathan examined the pendant, felt its weight against his palm.
    His father’s last words echoed in his mind. “Use it—to avenge my death.”
    No, thought Jonathan. No more revenge. No more feud. No more curse.
    â€œI am