Chapter 27. Simon felt the blood throb at his temples

O ld Aggie!

Simon felt the blood throb at his temples. He had never seen the old woman so close up.

Her face was hidden by a black hood. In one wrinkled hand she held the cane she always carried. The fingers of the other hand were covered with rings. They dug into Simon’s shoulder. Aggie was so stooped that her head was even with Simon’s as he sat before her.

Simon tried to stand.

But with one wrinkled hand, the old woman held him in place. The pain in Simon’s shoulder deepened

“Do not go,” she commanded in a gravelly voice.

Shaking, Simon tried to calm down. It is only an old woman, he told himself. Only an old woman.

“S-sorry I screamed like that. You startled me,” he stammered.

Old Aggie slowly let go of his shoulder. Simon felt her long fingernails pull out of his skin.

She held out her bony, jeweled hand. “Give me your hand,” she croaked.

Simon hesitated. He saw her black eyes glowing like coal under her hood.

“Your hand,” she repeated in her deep, raspy voice.

Simon obeyed. He offered her his trembling hand.

She took it firmly in her own and bent close to his palm, her long, crooked nose almost grazing his hand.

Finally she released his hand and trained her eyes on his face. Simon’s heart pounded as he waited to see what would happen next.

The children said she would kill us and eat our hearts, he thought, remembering his childhood fears of Old Aggie.

But that had to be a foolish childhood tale.

Aggie cleared her throat. “Hear me, Simon Fier, and hear me well.”

How does she know my name? Simon wondered. He did not dare to ask her.

“You have allowed a man named Franklin Goode into your home. Am I right?” croaked Old Aggie.

Simon nodded.

“That was foolish of you. He will destroy you all. You must stop him.”

Simon swallowed.

Old Aggie continued. “Franklin Goode killed your sister Kate. At this very moment he plots the death of Elizabeth.”

Simon was shaken. Could the old woman be speaking the truth?

“Fier,” Old Aggie murmured. “Fier. Fier. A terrible name. A cursed name.”

“What do you mean?” Simon demanded. “Why do you say that, old woman?”

“Your fate lies in your name,” Old Aggie replied, her face hidden in the darkness of her hood. “The letters in your name—they can be rearranged to spell fire. Fier. Fire. Fier. Fire.” She repeated the two words several times in her croaking voice, chanting them to sound like curses.

“I do not understand,” Simon confessed.

“That is how your family will come to its end,” Old Aggie rasped.

“What? How?” he demanded. “How?”

“By fire,” she murmured. “Fier. Fire. You shall meet your end by fire.”

Simon gasped as Old Aggie pointed a long, terrible finger into his face. “You are under a curse!” she cried. “A curse cast by the Goodes, and by your own evil history. Now you have allowed a Goode into your home, into your family. Your suffering will know no end, Simon Fier.”

“But wh-what can I do?” Simon choked out in a shrill, tight voice. “What?”

The old woman reached into the folds of her long black robe and pulled out a small silver dagger, its handle studded with dark rubies.

“Take this dagger,” she whispered. “Its tip is poisoned. You have only to scratch the skin of your enemy with it, and he will die.”

Simon took the dagger from her with a trembling hand.

“Be careful,” she warned him. “The dagger will only work once. Do not waste the poison.”

“I—I will not,” Simon promised, gazing at the dagger as if it were alive.

Old Aggie nodded. “Go now. Hurry, before it is too late.”

Simon jumped up and began to run through the dark woods.

When he glanced back at the clearing, the old woman had disappeared.

Had she told him the truth?

Was the rest of his family in danger? In danger from Frank Goode?

Or was the old woman as crazy as the children always claimed?

A yellow glow led him back to his house. He emerged from the woods and saw the kitchen ablaze with light. The rest of the house was in darkness.

Simon burst into the kitchen doorway and stopped.

He stared down and saw his mother sprawled in a dark puddle of blood on the floor.

Simon’s father was slumped over the kitchen table. Bright red blood had flowed from a wound in his side and lay pooled on the floor.

“Simon!”

Elizabeth’s voice.

Simon raised his eyes from the horrifying sight of his murdered parents.

Elizabeth was cowering in a corner by the hearth. Frank Goode stood before her, an ax raised over her head.

The ax that he had used to murder Simon’s parents.

The blade was stained blood-red in the firelight.

Simon cried out as Frank let the ax fall.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20