Howling Storm by Nicola Italia

Prologue

In the former ancient royal hunting forest, the silence was almost deafening. If a bird had chirped or an owl had screeched, it might have even been comforting to hear. She would know she wasn’t alone. But the still of the night was all the more terrorizing for its emptiness. She put a hand to her breast as it rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breathing.

The snap of a twig nearby sounded like a shot in the night, and she wished she could melt into the trunk of the tree. Sweat trickled down her lower back, and her dress felt sticky against her skin in the cool night air. She looked out into the woodland park, and inky blackness greeted her.

She brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, which was wet with perspiration, then wiped her hand on her skirt. She touched the gold locket that hung about her neck and felt the weight of it in her hand. She released it and put her palms behind her to steady herself, feeling the rough bark of the tree trunk against her smooth palms.

The dark forest was filled with trees upon trees, with no landmark that gave her a sense of where she was. She was lost. The road was somewhere to her left, but as night had fallen, she could not see how far it might be. Even if a carriage came by, the small lantern the driver carried would not penetrate into the woods for her to see.

“Why are you running? I won’t hurt you.”

The words taunting her. She pushed a small fist against her mouth to stem the desire to cry out in a hysterical laugh. She knew everything—why lie to her? And hurt her? She shuddered at the thought of it.

She heard the rustle of steps upon the ground and tried to still her breathing. She wanted to cry out in frustration. Why had she done this? Why had she come out into the night? If she were caught-no.

She couldn’t think that way. She refused to think that way. She moved swiftly in the opposite direction of the footsteps, holding the hem of her skirt as she went.

If only she had waited. If only she had not discovered the secret. She could still see it and the terrifying secret that had been hidden. God, she wanted it erased from her mind.

She felt confident that if she kept going in this direction, she would reach the road. It had to be the right way. Her skirts wrapped around her legs as she moved quickly, and she stumbled lightly on a small mound. But kept moving. She had to keep moving until she found the road.

She moved around a tree, and a low branch swung out and hit her in the face. It stung her eyes and she cried out. She heard the steps behind her quicken and knew she’d been discovered. She swore under her breath. She had to keep her wits about her. Don’t panic, keep moving, she told herself.

She stumbled again, and this time her knee took the brunt of the fall. She skinned it and winced but kept moving. Her heart was beating fast as she felt the brush underneath her, and the grass and rocks made moving in the dark difficult.

Her name was called out, but she moved resolutely on. She looked left, then right, feeling like a hunted hare. Which way to go? Her eyes scanned the land before her, and then, she saw it. Ahead of her to the right. The small cottage with a light in the downstairs window. She sagged with relief. Her heart soared and she almost cried out in happiness. She hoped there was a brawny man inside who would be willing to bar the door and protect her from the evil of the night.

She ran down the small hill in the dark, through the trees and past the clearing of tall grass, and she didn’t even cry out when she hit her toe against a small rock. The cottage door was painted such a dark blue it looked black in the night. She knocked twice on the door, but without waiting to receive word to enter, she flung it open.

The paraffin lamp flickered inside the small room as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the large fireplace and hearth and someone seated before it, their back to her in a yellow rocking chair.

“Excuse me,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry for entering without being bade to enter but—”

The figure adjusted its body and turned to stare at her.

“No,” she whispered, her voice catching. “No.”

She took a step back on shaky legs, her toe still smarting from the rock. She took a second step.

You’ve nowhere else to go,” the voice in the yellow rocking chair mocked.