Chapter 18. “What was that?” Jonathan cried, knowing the answer to his question.

“W 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.

“Papa!” Jonathan cried, seeing Ezra sprawled on his back, a dark open wound in his side, blood puddling on the dirt street.

“Get 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.

“Take 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.

“Papa—” 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.

“I am sorry, Papa,” he whispered. “But I cannot let our family suffer any longer. There is still Rachel….”

He thought of his little sister, sleeping upstairs in her bedroom. She had already been through so much. But she might have a chance at happiness still. At least, Jonathan hoped so. He would do everything in his power to make her happy.

The first step, he decided, was to get rid of the pendant.

He dropped it into the strongbox. It landed softly on top of Ezra’s ashes. Jonathan closed the heavy iron lid and locked it.

Then he took a lantern from its hook by the hearth. He made his way out into the night. He knelt beneath the apple tree. With a spade, he began to dig up the moist earth.

Bitter memories leapt to his mind as he worked under the tree. He tried to force them away as soon as they arose, but they kept coming back.

He remembered drinking lemon water with Rachel and Delilah one hot day, on that very spot. Delilah …

He stopped digging and shoved the iron box in the hole. Then he scooped dirt back on top of the box.

This box is Papa’s coffin, Jonathan thought. This shallow hole, his grave. This lonely, secret ceremony is his funeral.

Papa and the cursed pendant will be buried here forever.

Jonathan finished filling the hole and smoothed the dirt. He left nothing to mark the spot.

It is done, Jonathan thought. He stood and wiped the dirt from his hands. That is the end of the horror. The curse is finished. The feud is over.

The Fiers and the Goodes will suffer no more.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20