The Burning by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

pulled back into a tight bun, pale green eyes, and a tiny, sharp nose like an upturned V.
    â€œGo right ahead and dust, Mrs. MacKenzie,” Simon said, happy that his discussion with Julia had been interrupted. “I am going upstairs now to speak with my wife about tonight.”
    â€œNow, Lucy, you be careful of Miss Julia’s fine pottery here,” Simon heard the housekeeper instruct as he nodded goodbye to his daughters and made his way to the front stairs.
    â€œFather, I wasn’t finished!” Julia called shrilly.
    Simon ignored her and continued down the long marble-floored hallway. As he reached the stairway, his three sons, Robert, Brandon, and Joseph, came bounding down, dressed in their riding outfits.
    â€œAnd where might you be going, as if I could not guess?” Simon asked.
    â€œI am taking the boys for a short ride,” Robert replied, straightening little Joseph’s cap.
    â€œMy pony is waiting for me,” five-year-old Joseph told his father.
    â€œBe watchful in the woods,” Simon warned Joseph. “My horse balked at a snake yesterday afternoon. Nearly threw me. I killed the snake, but there might be more.”
    â€œI’m not afraid of snakes!” Brandon declared. “I step on them!”
    Robert gave his younger brothers a gentle shove toward the door. “Don’t worry, Father. I will take care of them.”
    They went on their way, and Simon climbed the stairs, his mind on the dinner party just a few hours away.
    At the top of the stairs a maid was polishing the mahogany banister. Simon stepped past her and hurried toward his wife Angelica’s room.
    â€œAngelica!” he called eagerly from the hallway. “Angelica, I have several matters to discuss with you, my dear.”
    He stopped in her doorway, his hands on the doorframe—and gasped.
    â€œAngelica!”
    Simon stared down at her. She was sprawled on the floor on her back, her black hair in disarray around her head, her green eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, her mouth open.
    Angelica. Not breathing. Lifeless.
    â€œAngelica!”
Simon cried.
“Oh, Angelica!”

Chapter 11

    S imon’s frightened cries aroused Angelica, and she sat up. She blinked once, twice, and smiled at him, her emerald eyes shining.
    â€œSimon—where am I? What is happening?” she asked groggily.
    â€œI—I found you on the floor, Angelica!” Simon replied, greatly relieved. “I thought you were—”
    â€œThe spirits,” Angelica whispered, sitting up. “The spirits called me, Simon. I must have swooned, fallen into a trance.”
    â€œI was frightened,” Simon said, taking Angelica’s slender white hands and pulling his wife to her feet.
    Angelica squeezed his hand affectionately. “I slip in and out of my trances and cannot control them as I used to.”
    She lowered herself to the edge of the bed, straightening her black hair with both hands. She looked tired. In the sunlight from the window he could see that her once smooth face was lined, the skin tight and dry. Only her eyes retained their youthful glow.
    â€œAngelica, perhaps it is time to put away the magic, to retire your dark arts,” he said softly, standing over her.
    She gazed up at him in surprise. “Simon, my powers have served us well,” she said. She gestured around the luxurious bedroom. “We have become even more wealthy, the wealthiest people in Shadyside. We have five wonderful children. We have succeeded because of our powers, yours and mine. I cannot give up now.”
    â€œBut to enter your room and find you lying unconscious on the floor—” Simon started.
    Angelica raised a hand to silence him. “When the spirits call, I must follow.” She muttered a chant.
    â€œAngelica—”
    â€œSimon, hush. The spirits will hear you. I will have to cast a cleansing spell to rid the house of your negative words.”
    He