Serafina and the Twisted Staff (The Serafina Series) Read Free Page A

hanging from a craggy tree. As he climbed down from the carriage and stood on the road, he held a gnarled walking stick and gazed out into the forest.
    Behind him, a vicious-looking wolfhound slunk down from the carriage onto the ground. Then another followed. The hounds had large, lanky bodies, massive heads with black eyes, and ratty, thick
blackish-grey fur. Five dogs in all 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-tick
ing 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