Immortal Storm Read Free

from the bedroom.
    “Coming,” she mumbled to herself. She placed each of the treasures inside the box and delivered it to its place in the hall closet. Before going back to bed, she decided to check in on the girls.
    Dahlia was wedged into the corner of her crib. This was how she slept, her eyes shut tightly against the world, pudgy cheeks perfect in the dim glow of the nightlight. Normally busy, her hands rested in gentle repose and even her wild dark curls relaxed against the pillowcase. Dorianna pulled the blanket up, tucking her in again. One sleeping hand began searching for a favorite toy and Dori tucked Lovey Bear back under her arm. Dahlia relaxed immediately and began sucking on her pacifier. After a quick kiss, Dori headed to her older daughter’s room.
    Layla’s cotton-candy-pink room was next. Pink was more than her favorite color; to her, it was the only color. She adored her pink carpeting, pink curtains and bedding, pink princess dresses to play make-believe. Dorianna sighed and approached her bed. She needn’t worry about waking this one up; she’d sleep through an earthquake. Dorianna hefted her three year old back up onto the pillow and brushed her curly blond locks from her face. As Dori leaned over to kiss her, Layla gave voice to the dream she was experiencing.
    “I like you, Mommy,” she mumbled. “I like you and I love you and I love you and I like you.”
    Dori had loved that phrase from the first time Layla had uttered it and it had become a special part of their nightly ritual. Her heart warmed and she repeated the phrase to her sleeping daughter.
    “Sleep now, my angel,” she added softly and left the room.
    The warmth lingered only briefly as she climbed into bed. Amir did not stir. There was a time when the slightest movement on her part would cause him to turn over and throw a protective arm about her. She missed that. She began drawing a mental list of all the chores she needed to complete the following day while waiting for sleep to find her. Outside, a lonely howl pierced the silence of the night.
    “Shut up and stay away from the horses,” Dori mumbled.
    A second coyote responded, but this one was much nearer to the house. Dori hugged the blankets closer to her chin. She’d grown up in a predominately urban area and while this house was home to Amir, the forest lining the horsthaing thee paddocks had always left her unsettled. It was beautiful, to be sure, but frightening and wild. She had once promised Amir that she would live in a tent in the desert if that was what it took to make him happy. Now she wasn’t so sure.
    Tomorrow will be better , she promised herself. It just had to be! She longed for something that would make her feel confident and alive again. She didn’t know what that something might be but she wanted it badly. She wanted it like she wanted air. She lay awake long into the night, listening to the howls, only briefly finding the sleep she had been searching for.
     

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
     
    November 23, 1597
    Great was the mysterie surrounding Mr. Barwicke ’ s disappearance , as there had been no sign of escape. We simply awoke to find the shakles emptie. One thing was known for certain, survival outside of the campe with winter closing in was most impossible. A small service was held in his memorie and his name was added to the growing list of the dead.
    The morose atmosphere among the colonists has become even more sombre. We busy ourselves preparing the campe for winter and keeping watch on the natives surveying us. They haven ’ t made contact, preferring to sit astride wilde ponies and watch us scurrying about our tasks. The remaining children fantasize them to be great warriors; the women do not imagine them so heroic.
    A fewe evenings ago they approached our settlement whilst everyone slept. I could hear the staccato rhythm of their ponies ’ hooves mixed with guttural syllables of a language I didn ’ t understand. They rode round our