AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Scima.”
“Gesundheit.”
“Pardon?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing, but what exactly is ‘Scima?’”
“It’s the only town in the Werewald,” Ben explained as we bounced along the road, though I noticed the ruts were not as deep nor the path as wide as before we turned off. “Some two thousand brave souls inhabit the area, trading in lumber and other goods caught in the wilds.” He stretched his neck and a smile slipped onto his lips. “But we’re just about there.”
We rounded a corner and a side road appeared on our left. A stately, albeit rusted, gate clung to a stone wall that disappeared on either side into the overgrown brush. The carriage rolled up to the gate, and I leaned out to get my first glimpse of Rookwood Manor.
I almost wish I hadn’t.
CHAPTERFOUR
The manor housewas a three-floor Tudor-ish abode with tall, narrow paned windows. It had been built from stone and heavy timbers, no doubt provided by the local scenery, and age and weather had dulled the colors. Vines crept up its walls and covered more than half the home in a twisted mess of dead and living plants. A solitary light shone through one of those windows on the bottom floor and to the left.
Nobody was about and the area was as quiet as a grave, and yet the gates swung inward. They groaned on their rusted hinges and even Ferox hesitated to enter. A light crack of the reins urged him forward and he trotted through the gates. His hoofs were the only sound as we approached the imperious home.
The short driveway wound its way to a circular clearing where I noticed a small stable hidden on the left and somewhat swallowed by the forest that surrounded us. Ferox parked the carriage a few yards from the front door, but pawed the ground and tossed his head back. Tully hopped down and soothed both horses with an apple while Ben climbed out. He helped me down and I twisted my head around to study the trees that bordered every inch of the driveway.
I couldn’t speak above more than a hushed whisper. “Are we in the Werewald?”
“Only half a mile into its depths,” he assured me as Tully began to unload the luggage. “
Something creaked, and I spun around in time to watch the large, heavy wooden front door swing open. The flickering light of a small candle was cast onto the ground and hardly reached past the stone step that acted as a porch. The light illuminated a small, slightly hunched figure that framed the doorway. A soft and crackly voice emanated from the person.
“About time, you rascal! Were you trying to give me a heart attack with worry?”
A crooked smile slipped onto Ben’s lips as he took my hand and guided me over to the door. “Good evening, Aunt Dreda.”
I whipped my face around so my bulging eyes stared at him. “Dreda?”
The woman huffed. “And what’s wrong with that? Nothing foreboding about the name Etheldreda, is there?”
I shrugged. “I-I guess I just didn’t, um, I thought your name was Prudence.”
“That’s my first name. I don’t go by that one. Too stuffy. Now then-” She stepped back and allowed some light from the hall to fall on us. “Come in out of that damp air. It’s worse tonight than it has been in two moons.”
Ben gave my hand a squeeze before he led me inside. The front hall was comfortable if filled with enough antiques to start a museum. Stuffed animals covered the darkly paneled walls and wardrobes, closet doors, and tables of all sizes finished the job. Little trinkets of hairbrushes, books, jewelry boxes, and the like were scattered about their tops. A light layer of dust covered most everything that hadn’t been touched for a spell while others were perfectly clean, creating a story of care and usage.
The decorations and bobbles nearly hid the wide stairs that led up to the second floor where a balcony overlooked the hall. The upper corridor, situated as it was in the center, ran the full length of the house and doors lined the wall that faced us.
A door on either side of the entrance hall led into the bottom portions of the separate wings. The light I had seen through the window was a candelabra situated on the central table in a refined but cozy parlor. The flickering candles allowed me to get a good look at our hostess.
Prudence Etheldreda Rookwood was a hair above five feet tall with gray hair tied tightly in a bun behind her head. Her face was covered in wrinkles, but beneath that exterior, I could see the beauty she had held in years long past. She wore a slimming black dress with lace on the cuffs of her long sleeves. Soft slippers covered her feet and she had only a small sapphire-adorned ring on her right hand.
Aunt Dreda moved as noiselessly a shadow in the night as she guided us into the parlor. Even her dress hardly made a sound. She stopped before the cold hearth opposite the entrance and set her candle on the mantel before she turned to us and gestured to the couch. “Now sit and tell me about the trip.”
Ben seated us on the couch and shook his head at his aunt. “There’s nothing to tell, Aunt. The trip was uneventful.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Not a sign of an errant shadow or an unusual creak of the trees?”
Ben’s eyes took on a sharp glint. “Should there have been?”
Dreda sighed and- lifted her chin a little. “I have not invited you here merely for a social visit. There’s something amiss in the woods, and I thought with your penchant for trouble you might be uniquely suited to finding out what it is.”
I hung my head. Just our luck. . .
