The Sign of Fear (2 page)

A
heavy weight pressed down on Christina. She struggled against it. But her arms and legs would not move. She was pinned in place. Her body completely useless.

She remembered falling. Falling and landing in a hole. No. Not a hole—her father's grave!
I've been buried alive!

Christina's eyes popped open. She rested in her own bed, the covers tightly tucked around her.

Christina loosened the blankets and sat up. How did I get here? She had no memory of going home.

Perhaps I fainted when I fell. Some of our neighbors must have helped Aunt Jane bring me home.

Christina's tongue felt dry and swollen. She needed a cool drink of water. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Pain shot through her body. I must be covered with bruises, she thought.

The floorboard outside Christina's door creaked. Aunt Jane checking up on me, Christina thought. She
quickly stretched out and pulled the covers up to her chin. She did not want to speak with her aunt now. The day had been hard enough already.

Christina heard the door swing open and the whisper of skirts against the floor. She struggled to make her breathing slow and even. Leave, she thought. Go away and leave me alone.

“She still sleeps,” Aunt Jane murmured. “That is good. If she is tired it will make things that much easier for us.”

Who is she talking to? Christina wondered. Why did she bring someone into my room?

“You are certain you wish to do this?” a second person asked, the voice low and harsh. But a woman's voice, Christina felt sure.

“Of course I'm certain,” Aunt Jane snapped. “I would not have asked you to come here otherwise, now would I?”

The women moved closer. Christina could feel their hot breath on her face. Stay calm, she told herself. Don't move. Don't move.

What is she planning? Christina thought. What is Aunt Jane going to do to me?

“We should do it tonight,” the woman murmured. Aunt Jane grunted in agreement.

“And her absence?” the woman asked. “How will you explain that?”

My absence? Is she sending me away? Christina thought. Almost any place would be better than here with her aunt.

“ 'Tis none of your concern,” Aunt Jane answered. She sounded annoyed. “Leave it to me.”

“It is my concern,” the woman insisted, her voice growing louder. “I have a right to know. You will put me in danger if you handle it badly.”

“You saw her at the graveside today,” Aunt Jane
said impatiently. She stepped away from the bed. “It's plain her grief for her father has upset the balance of her mind. She might do anything in this state. She might even wander off . . . and become lost in the woods around the town. An unprotected girl, alone, would meet all sorts of dangers.”

“Dangers in the woods,” the woman echoed. “Ah, yes, I see.”

“Naturally, I would be terribly distraught should any harm come to my niece,” Aunt Jane continued.

Evil, Christina thought. She is pure evil.

The other woman laughed. A harsh, ugly sound. “I'm certain the entire town will join me in extending my sympathy for your difficult situation.”

“A kind thought. I thank you.” Christina could almost hear her aunt smiling. “We're agreed, then?”

“Oh, aye,” the woman answered. “We're agreed.”

Christina heard the soft
clink
of coins changing hands. Then the sound of footsteps moving toward the door.

“I'll return tonight,” the woman said, as the bedroom door creaked open.

“At midnight,” Aunt Jane suggested. “No one else will be awake.”

“Very well, at midnight, then.” The bedroom door shut on the rest of their conversation.

Christina remained motionless. Her heart pounding so hard she feared it would choke her.

The moment she heard the large, heavy front door close, she bolted upright.

Aunt Jane is planning to kill me!

C
hristina threw back the covers and scrambled out of bed. She had to escape. She had to run away.
Now!

If I'm here when Aunt Jane returns, I'm trapped, Christina thought. She won't let me out of her sight.

Christina tiptoed over to her bedroom window. The scrubbed wood floor felt icy against her bare feet. She carefully parted the checkered curtains—just an inch—and peered out.

She saw her aunt helping a woman into a wagon in the far corner of the yard. Christina couldn't make out the woman's face.

Go! Go now!
a voice inside Christina urged. Aunt Jane could come back in the house at any moment.

She darted over to the chest and grabbed her long cloak. Then she realized she wore only a nightgown.

I don't have time! she thought. Aunt Jane will be back before I am ready! Christina's heart began to
hammer in her chest. She felt light-headed, her ears ringing.

Stop it, she ordered herself. This is no time to fall apart. She reached for the lacings of her nightgown. Her fingers slipped and fumbled. Something clattered to the floor.

What was that? Christina thought. She noticed a silver pendant next to her feet. Where did that come from?

Even in the dim light of her bedroom it glimmered. It seemed to glow with a strange light of its own. Fascinated, Christina picked it up. The silver disc felt warm. Comforting.

She ran her fingers over the silver bird's claw on the front. Over the six clear blue stones clutched in the claw.

A memory stirred in Christina's mind. A memory of an enormous black bird flying down at her. Something silver clutched in its beak. She remembered striking out at the bird—and her fingers becoming tangled in a thin chain.

That's how I got it. It's beautiful, she thought. So beautiful. And it's mine.

Christina lifted the chain over her head and slid on the silver pendant. Then she blinked several times. Why am I just standing here?

Within moments, she dressed in her sober black mourning dress, thick stockings and heavy, squaretoed shoes. She hesitated over her white cap and apron.

I'd better leave them off, she thought. The white color might attract attention. She knew people considered it scandalous to go out bareheaded. But she could use the hood of her dark cloak.

Ready, she thought. She took a quick look around
her bedroom. This is the last time I will ever be here, she thought. The last time I will ever call this place my home.

“Good-bye, Papa,” Christina whispered. “I'm sorry I won't be able to visit your grave. But I know you'll understand what I'm doing. Why I can never come back here.”

Choking back her tears, Christina hurried to the door and pulled it open.

Creak.

Did Aunt Jane hear that? Is she back in the house? Christina held her breath. But the hall remained empty. The house silent.

Christina dashed down the hallway. Once she made it out the back door, Aunt Jane would never catch her.

Bang!
The front door opened.

Oh, no! Christina thought. Now she couldn't make her way to the back door without Aunt Jane spotting her.

Christina crept back down the hallway. Placing each foot carefully so she wouldn't make the smallest sound.

Tap.

One of Christina's heels hit the floorboards.

She hesitated. Not a word from her aunt.

Almost there, she thought. Almost to my room.

Christina pulled in a deep breath and took another step.

“Christina Davis! What are you doing out of bed?” her aunt shrieked.

Christina raced into her room and slammed the door behind her. Do something! she ordered herself. Do something!

Christina picked up her dressing-table chair. Can I use it to block the door?

Aunt Jane's heavy footsteps thundered down the hall.

In another moment, she'll be here!

Christina whirled around. She flung the chair through her bedroom window with all her strength. Glass shattered. Jagged shards flew through the air.

Aunt Jane uttered a high, shrill scream of outrage.

Christina threw herself across the windowsill. Jagged glass bit into her arms as she dragged herself forward. Thank goodness her bedroom was on the first floor.

She could see Aunt Jane's vegetable garden beneath her. One more shove and I should make it. One more shove and I'll be free.

She hurled herself forward with all her might.

Then Christina's body jerked to a stop. Her aunt's cold, bony fingers wrapped around her ankle.

C
hristina screamed. She slammed her free leg backward. Aiming for her aunt.

Missed.

Aunt Jane yanked Christina back across the windowsill. Shards of glass stabbed into her stomach.

“No!” Christina shouted. She kicked and squirmed, fighting to free herself. “I won't let you!
No!”

“You can't stop me,” Aunt Jane panted. “You're not strong enough.”

“I'm stronger than you think I am,” Christina cried. She grabbed the windowsill with both hands, pulling herself forward. She felt warm blood flowing from both palms. But she didn't care. She had to escape.

Aunt Jane grabbed Christina's calf with her free hand. She grunted with exertion. Using all her strength to pull Christina back inside.

Christina could feel her leg growing numb. She dug her fingernails into the wood of the window frame.

“Give up!” Aunt Jane demanded.

Christina felt her fingers slipping. One of her fingernails tore free. Pain shot up her arm.

I can't do this! Christina thought. She is too strong. So much stronger than I am. She let her body go limp.

Aunt Jane struggled to pull Christina's dead weight back into the house.

I have one chance left, Christina thought. One chance.

Slowly she bent her free leg up as far as she could.

Now I have to distract her. Christina did the last thing her aunt would expect. She lifted her head and looked back at Aunt Jane. Defiantly.

Aunt Jane's eyes blazed with fury. Her face turning brick red. “Wretched creature,” she gasped. “Spiteful,
hateful
girl. You have been nothing but trouble since the day you were born. But you won't trouble me much longer now!”

Christina shoved her bent leg straight back. Her heavy shoe caught Aunt Jane squarely in the throat.

With a strangled cry, Aunt Jane collapsed on the floor.

Christina plunged forward. She landed headfirst in her aunt's vegetable garden. Dirt clogged her mouth. She sat up, gagging and choking.

She shoved herself to her feet and ran with all the strength she possessed. I did it! I'm free!

♦ ♦ ♦

She ran into the woods until she could run no longer. Until her breath rasped in her throat and her legs felt as heavy as cannonballs.

Don't stop. Keep going, Christina told herself.
Stumbling with weariness, she forced herself to continue on.

Sweat rolled down her face, stinging her eyes. Her long skirt snagged on a bush, slowing her down.

Traveling on the road itself would have been easier. And faster. But it was too dangerous. Anyone could see her. Anyone.

Aunt Jane will not come after me. Will not, will not, will not. Christina chanted to herself with the rhythm of her footfalls. She wants me dead. Dead, dead, dead. She will not come after me.

Sharp pain jabbed into Christina's side. It hurt each time she tried to take a deep breath. I have to slow down for a little while, she thought. I have to rest.

The shadows in the woods grew thick and heavy all around her. The memory of Aunt Jane's face flashed through Christina's mind. Eyes filled with fury. Lips twisted in disgust.

She hates me, Christina thought. I knew she disliked me. I knew she resented opening her home to me. But I never realized she hated me. And wanted me dead.

Snap.

What was that? It sounded like someone stepping on a twig. Christina stopped and listened. She heard a faint rustling sound. It could be the wind in the trees, she decided. Or a small animal.