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Authors: R.L. Stine

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BOOK: The Sign of Fear
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F
ieran's stomach twisted. For one terrible instant, he feared he would be ill.

It's all true. All the terrible things Conn said about Brianna. All the things I didn't want to believe.

They are true. Every single one of them.

Brianna doesn't love me. She betrayed me. She helped Conn to become chief.

Fieran wanted to run away. Go somewhere where he would never have to see Brianna again. Somewhere where no one knew anything about him.

It is too painful to stay here, he thought. And without Brianna there is nothing here I want.

No, Fieran thought. No. He would not let the pain stand in the way of his revenge.

Revenge!

Brianna must share Conn's fate, Fieran thought. Her betrayal was worse than Conn's. At least Conn
did not pretend that he cared for me. Brianna must die too.

Fieran imagined the expression on Brianna's face when she realized he planned to kill her. He imagined her begging and pleading with him for her life.

But I won't listen, Fieran thought. I'll never listen to Brianna again. I will make her pay for everything she's done.

He imagined his sharp knife slashing downward. Her heart's blood spraying out of her. Bright red and still warm. Exactly what the head required.

Which should he kill first? Conn or Brianna?

His oldest enemy, he decided. Conn.

I will deal with you later, Brianna, Fieran promised. I will let you live. For now. Only for now. Your turn will come.

Fieran crept from his hiding place. He made his way back home. His mind already working on the plan for his revenge.

So Conn thinks he is invincible, Fieran thought. He thinks that I am stupid and weak. He will soon see how wrong he is.

♦ ♦ ♦

A week later, Fieran felt ready to set his plan in motion. He dressed in his most threadbare clothes. Then made his way to the Celt's hilltop village.

He had a message for Conn.

The people flocked from their homes as Fieran approached. They muttered and whispered, staring at him.

When he reached the village no one spoke to him. The crowd formed a large circle around him. They stared at Fieran in silence.

Fieran knew what they were thinking. They had all
heard that he had lost his mind. They all knew he was banished.

Once, he had been a great hero among them. Now he was in disgrace. They don't know what to say to me, Fieran thought. They don't know how to treat me.

It humiliated Fieran to appear before his people as he did. It hurt his pride.

But Fieran had no choice. He needed the people to believe he had given up. He needed them to believe Conn had broken him. He couldn't take any chances. He had to convince them.

If I don't, Conn will suspect something. I must not let him see my strength.

A ripple of movement passed through the circle. Out of the corner of his eye, Fieran spotted long robes. Good, someone summoned one of the spell-casters. Fieran's plan was working perfectly so far.

Fieran threw himself facedown in the dirt. He grabbed the hem of the spell-caster's robe. “Please,” he begged. “I want to be reunited with my people. I repent for my accusations against Conn. My own pride blinded me. Now I want to acknowledge Conn as my chief.”

Fieran could hear the people start to whisper. “Fieran is himself again.”

“Rise up, Fieran,” the man told him. “It gives me great happiness to see you are so recovered. Gladly, I will take your message to Conn, our chief.”

Fieran felt exhilaration rush through him. But he had accomplished only the first part of his mission. He could not celebrate yet. He still had much to do.

He cleared his throat. “I beg of you, say this to Conn. Say I would meet him in the circle of standing stones. In the place of power our ancestors created, I
will give him my vow of loyalty. It is time for the fighting between us to end.”

“I will do this,” the spell-caster answered. Fieran's heart beat a little faster. He saw the surprise and fear in the other man's eyes.

The circle of stones was old. Older even than the spell-casters. And it was very powerful. Powerful with a magic the spell-casters didn't understand.

Only the very brave dared enter the circle. Only those who felt very sure of their own power.

Satisfied with what he'd done, Fieran turned and walked from the village. He made sure he kept his head hanging down. He wanted to appear completely defeated.

There's no turning back now, he thought. Two of us will go into the stone circle. But only one will come out alive. When they see that it is I, the people will know they made a mistake.

They will be forced to admit I am the true chief.

♦ ♦ ♦

Fieran strode quickly to the stone circle. He wanted to arrive there before Conn.

Like the Celt village, the circle of stones stood upon a hilltop. It could be seen for miles around. Fieran wasn't sure why his ancestors had built the circle as they had. There were those among his people who claimed their ancestors used the great stones to read the stars.

Fieran hesitated outside the circle. He felt small and insignificant as he gazed at the stones. He was mortal. But the stones would last as long as time.

The great stones were massive. Taller than the tallest man. They had been scarred by wind and weather until they seemed to have faces. Faces as fierce and proud as Fieran's own.

As he stared at the weather-beaten faces, Fieran felt a swift jolt of exhilaration shoot through him. He raised his arms over his head and turned in a circle. No longer did he feel tiny and unimportant. Now, he felt part of a great chain of being.

These are my ancestors, he thought. Their power is still strong. Today I will ask them to lend me their strength. I will ask them to help me defeat Conn.

“Hear me, spirits of my ancestors,” Fieran cried out. “I do not come here to dishonor your holy place. I come here to right a great wrong. I come to take revenge upon one who has done a great evil.

“Lend me your strength, my ancestors. Smile upon my enterprise.” Fieran could feel the amulet against his chest. When Conn was dead, he would bathe the amulet in Conn's blood. Only then would the amulet have its power.

The wind whistled around the hilltop. Fieran lowered his arms. He took a deep breath.

I can do no more, he thought. He felt his heartbeat speed up in anticipation. The moment I worked for is here at last. He would leave the circle in triumph. Or would not leave it at all.

Let the contest begin, he thought. I am ready for it.

Fieran stepped between the standing stones.

Instantly the wind died down.

No sound disturbed the ancient circle. Outside it, Fieran could see the grass blowing in the wind. But inside the circle, all was still. The silence so powerful it almost had a sound of its own.

Fieran's ears rang. His heart pounded. Sweat dripped down into his eyes.

It is the power that makes me feel this way, he thought. He shivered. The power of the stones.

Fieran walked around the circle. The stones cast huge shadows upon the ground. The air felt cold in the shadow of the stones. An icy cold that stole Fieran's breath away.

He turned to the nearest of the great stones. The face on the stone stared down at him. Stern and grim.

Help me, my ancestor, Fieran asked silently. Help me defeat Conn.

“Fieran! Where are you?” a voice called out. Fieran whirled around. Standing across the circle, just outside the stones, stood one lone figure.

Conn.

I knew he would come alone, Fieran thought. He is so confident. So fearless. He truly believes no one is strong enough to do him harm.

Fieran stepped out from the shadow of the stone so that Conn could see him. Conn moved forward between the stones. He crossed the circle with swift strides and stopped a few paces away from Fieran. The shadow of the great stone stretched out on the ground beside them.

“You shouldn't have come here, Fieran.”

Fieran scooted a little closer to Conn. He hunched his shoulders up, as if afraid Conn would hit him. He made his voice weak and whining. “But I had to come here. I had to see you, Conn.”

Conn smiled. He swaggered a little closer to Fieran. He didn't seem afraid at all. Fieran watched him out of narrowed eyes.

Oh, yes, he thought. That's right, Conn. You want to come closer. You want to prove that I am weak while you are strong. But I know your strength is your greatest weakness. I know your strength will be your downfall.

“Why have you asked me here?” Conn inquired. “Have you come to your senses at last? Have you come to beg for my forgiveness?”

Fieran felt hot blood pound through his head. He gritted his teeth to try to still his rage. I must not lose my temper, he thought. I must not let my pride stand in my way. If I do, I will be like Conn.

I am strong enough to appear weak. I am confident enough to humble myself. “I have,” he answered in a soft, trembling voice. “I have come to my senses. Please, I beg you. Forgive me, Conn.”

Conn's smile grew a little wider. Fieran took a few steps closer to him. He turned his palms up to show he did not have a weapon.

“I did not mean to challenge you,” Fieran went on. “I did not mean to say you cheated to become chief.”

“I cannot hear you, Fieran,” Conn said. “You must speak up.”

Fieran bit down hard on his tongue. His body quivered with the effort it took to hold himself back. With his whole being, Fieran longed to lunge at Conn. Longed to plunge his fist down Conn's throat and stop his hateful, taunting words.

But surprise is your greatest weapon, he reminded himself.

“I cannot stand it,” Fieran cried out. “I cannot stand being alone anymore. Please let me join the others again. Please let me take part in the ceremonies. I will die if I don't have company. I'll do whatever you say, if only you will forgive me. Repeal my banishment, Conn.”

Conn didn't reply.

“You were right,” Fieran continued. Why isn't this working? he wondered. What does he want from me? “I was jealous. I could not stand the idea that you
were chosen and I was not. I will confess this to everyone. If you will forgive me and let me rejoin my people.”

Conn threw back his head and laughed. “Say that again, Fieran.”

Fieran blinked. What game is he playing now? he wondered. “Say what again?” he asked.

“Say that again,” he repeated. Patiently. As if he were speaking to an idiot. Or an animal.

“Say
all
of that again, Fieran. But say it here.” Conn pointed to the ground directly in front of him. “I want to hear you say it on your knees, Fieran.”

Fieran's heart pounded in hard, swift strokes. He wanted to grab Conn's head and tear it off.

Not yet, he thought. Not when I'm so close. Not until I have Conn exactly where I want him.

Slowly, Fieran lowered himself to his knees. His kneecaps ached as he pressed them against the rocky ground. “Forgive me,” he whined. “Forgive me, Conn.”

“When the Romans conquer Britain,” Conn said. “When the last of the Celts have died. That is when I will forgive you, Fieran. You will be my enemy until the day you die.”

Triumph surged through Fieran. Conn had taken the bait.

Now, he thought. I've got you where I want you!

Fieran lunged at Conn. He jerked Conn's legs out from under him.

Thunk!
Conn's head hit the hard ground. He cried out, and tried to roll away. But Fieran sprang up and put his foot in the middle of Conn's chest.

“You're right, Conn,” Fieran panted. “I
am
your enemy. I will be your enemy until the day
you
die. And that day is coming. Sooner than you think.”

“Not yet,” Conn ground out. “Not today, Fieran.”

Conn grasped Fieran's leg and twisted. With a cry of pain, Fieran toppled to the ground. Conn leapt upon his back, bending one of his arms up in a terrible grip. Fieran thrashed and bucked, trying to free himself.

Fool! he told himself, as the pain poured through him. Idiot! You had him down, but you didn't finish him off. You gave in to your pride. You had to taunt him.

Fieran reared back with all his strength. Then he threw himself to one side. Pain shot like fire up his arm. But the suddenness of his movement loosened Conn's grip.

Fieran kicked out as hard as he could and knocked Conn away. He scrambled to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Conn shove himself up. Quickly, Fieran pivoted to face him.

Conn and Fieran stared at each other. Fieran's lungs pumped with the effort to take in enough air. Blood trickled down into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. He could feel more blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. It tasted bitter and metallic on his tongue.

“You thought you were so smart, didn't you?” Conn choked out. “Pretending to be beaten. Luring me here.”

“And you fell for it,” Fieran came back. “You could hardly wait to make me crawl.”

“You will crawl!” Conn screamed. “You aren't strong enough to stop me, Fieran. I am going to finish what I started. I am going to kill you.
Now!”

Conn put his head down and rushed forward. Fieran started to leap out of the way. But his foot slipped. Conn barrelled right at him.

No! he thought. I can't go down. He'll kill me.

Conn ran into Fieran at full speed. His head smashed into Fieran's breastbone. Pain exploded through Fieran's chest. He fell to his back on the ground.

Conn leapt upon him. His knees dug into Fieran's arms. Fieran cried out.

Then he felt Conn's fingers wrap around his throat. “You are beaten,” Conn whispered. Fieran felt Conn's hot breath upon his face. “I have beaten you, Fieran.”

Conn pressed his fingers against Fieran's throat. Inch by inch, Conn squeezed his fingers closed. Fieran coughed and gagged. He tried to roll from side to side. He freed one arm. But he was so weak he could hardly use it.

BOOK: The Sign of Fear
11.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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