Serafina and the Twisted Staff. Robert Beatty

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СКАЧАТЬ came forth from the carriage and stood together, scanning the forest for something to kill.

      Afraid to make even the slightest sound, Serafina took in a slow, ragged breath as carefully and quietly as she possibly could. The beat of her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to run. Just stay still, she ordered herself. Stay very still. She was sure that as long as she didn’t break cover, they wouldn’t see her.

      She wasn’t certain what it was – maybe his long, frayed coat and the worn state of his carriage – but the man seemed as if he’d travelled a long distance. It surprised her when he shut the carriage door, stepped away and looked at the horses. The stallions immediately broke into a run like they had been whipped. The carriage soon disappeared down the road, taking whoever remained inside onward towards Biltmore but leaving the bearded man and his dogs behind in the forest. The man did not appear to be dismayed or upset by this, but acted as though this forest was exactly where he wanted to be.

      Saying words Serafina could not understand, he gathered his pack of dogs around him. They were foul beasts with massive paws and thick claws. They didn’t seem like normal dogs that sniffed the ground and explored the forest. They all looked up at their master, as if waiting for his instructions.

      The man’s face was shrouded by the bent brim of his hat. But when he tilted his head upward towards the moon Serafina sucked in a breath. The man’s silvery eyes, peering out from his weathered, craggy face, glinted with power. His mouth opened slowly as if he were trying to suck in the moonlight. Just when she thought he was going to utter words, he let out the most terrifying hissing scream she had ever heard. It was a long, raspy screech. And right at that moment a ghostly white barn owl appeared, flying overhead out of the trees, the beat of its wings utterly silent. It answered the man’s call with a bloodcurdling shriek. The sound sent a terrible burst of shivers down Serafina’s spine. And as the owl flew by, its eerie, flat-faced head pivoted towards her, as if searching, hunting. She ducked to the ground like a frightened mouse.

      When the owl had disappeared into the midnight gloom, Serafina peeked back towards the road. Her heart stopped cold. The bearded man and his five hounds were now looking out into the forest in her direction, the man’s eyes still gleaming with an unnatural light despite the fact that he had turned away from the moon. She tried to convince herself that it was impossible for the man and his dogs to see her concealed in the leaves, but she couldn’t shake the horrible fear that they knew exactly where she was. The ground beneath her seemed to become slippery with some unknown dampness. The ivy on the forest floor seemed to be moving. She heard a tick-tick-ticking sound, followed by a long, raspy hiss. Suddenly, she felt the touch of the man’s breath on the back of her neck, and she spun round, cringing violently, but there was nothing there but blackness.

      The man reached into his pocket with one of his knobbly, leathery-skinned hands and took out what appeared to be a scrap of torn, dark-coloured cloth.

      ‘Breathe it in,’ he ordered his dogs, his voice low and sinister. There was something about the stranger’s rugged face and beard, his rustic clothing and the way he said his words that made her think he was an Appalachian man, born and raised in the rocky ravines and thorny coves of these very mountains.

      The first wolfhound pushed its muzzle into the folds of the dark cloth. When it drew its nose out again, its mouth gaped open. Its teeth were bared and chattering, dripping with saliva. The dog began to growl. Then the second dog and the third nosed the dark cloth, until all five had taken the scent. The wicked, snarling malevolence of the hounds stabbed her stomach with fear. Her only hope was that the trail of the cloth’s scent would take them in the opposite direction.

      The man looked down at his pack of hounds. ‘Our quarry is near,’ he told them, his voice filled with menacing command. ‘Follow the scent! Find the Black One!’

      Suddenly, the dogs howled, savage like wolves. All five of them burst from their haunches and lunged into the forest. Serafina jumped despite herself. Her legs wanted to run so bad that she could barely keep herself still. But she had to stay hidden. It was her only chance of survival. But to her horror, the hounds were running straight towards her.

      She couldn’t understand it. Should she keep hiding? Should she fight? Should she run? The dogs were going to tear her to pieces.

      Just when she knew she had to run, she realised it was too late. She didn’t have a chance. Her chest seized. Her legs locked. She froze in terror.

       No! No! No! Don’t do it! You’re not a rat! You’re not a chipmunk! You’ve got to move!

      Faced with certain death, she did what any sensible creature of the forest would do: she leapt ten feet straight up into a tree. She landed on a branch, then scurried along its length and hurled herself like a flying squirrel in a desperate leap to the next tree. From there, she bounded to the ground and ran like the dickens.

      With howls of outrage, the hounds gave chase, running and snapping at her. They coursed her like a pack of wolves on a deer. But they were wolfhounds, so they weren’t born and bred to chase down and kill anything as small as a deer. They were born and bred to chase down and kill wolves.

      As she ran, Serafina glanced back over her shoulder towards the road. The craggy-faced man looked up at the owl as the haunting creature came circling back round. Then, to Serafina’s astonishment, he threw his walking stick up into the sky. It tumbled end over end towards the owl. But it did not strike the bird. It seemed to blur and then disappear into the darkness, just as the owl flew into the cover of the trees. Serafina had no idea who the man was or what she had seen, but it didn’t matter now. She had to run for her life.

      Fighting off a single jumping, biting, snapping, snarling wolfhound was bad enough, but fighting five was impossible. She sprinted through the forest as fast as she could, her muscles punched with the power of fear. She wasn’t going to let these growling beasts defeat her. The cold forest air shot into her pumping lungs, every sense in her body exploding with a lightning bolt of panic. Coming up behind her, the first hound reached out its ragged neck, opened its toothy maw and bit the back of her leg. She spun and struck the dog, screaming in anger and searing pain as the dog’s fangs punctured her flesh. The smell of the blood excited the other hounds into even more of a frenzy. The second dog leapt upon her and bit her shoulder, tearing into her with growling determination as she slammed her fist into its face. The third clamped its teeth onto her wrist as she tried to pull it away. The three of them pulled her down and dragged her across the ground. Then the other two dogs came in for the kill, their fangs bared as they lunged straight for her throat.

      

      As the wolfhound charged in, Serafina threw her arm across her neck. Instead of tearing through her throat, the dog’s fangs chomped down on her forearm, shooting spikes of pain through her bone as she screamed. The second dog pressed in for the killing bite, but a fist-sized stone slammed into its head, knocking it back. Then another stone hit one of the other dogs, and it whirled to defend itself.

      ‘Haaaa!’ came a violent shout out of the darkness as a boy with long, wild hair leapt into the fray, striking and punching and clawing, flailing his arms in a spinning, growling attack.

      Fierce with pain, Serafina slammed the heel of her hand into the nose of the dog clamped onto her arm, pushing the dog away.

      ‘Get up! Stay bold! Run!’ the boy shouted at her as he attacked two of the dogs and cleared the way for her.

      Serafina СКАЧАТЬ