Bloodline

Начало книги

Thanks to Karen Owen for the inspiration. Thanks to Corinna Petry for her keen journalistic eye. And thanks to Michael Landon for his beautiful cover illustration.

Salem 1692

“Run, Terra,” Elizabeth’s screams reached me from within the barn.  I could see the lanterns flickering like fireflies through the woods. “Run, run, Terra, now,” Her frantic voice followed me as I darted through the thicket. Brambles cut through me, slashing at me as I pushed my way down the hill toward the stream. I could hear the hounds barking in the distance followed by the sounds of women screaming. The sweet goldenrod snapped beneath my feet, releasing the smell of licorice. Goldenrod, I thought, goldenrod ground with lavender brings on sleep. One of many concoctions Elizabeth had taught me. I hoped Elizabeth and the others had made it away.

My focus returned to my peril. I needed to keep moving. Holding up my skirt, I trampled through the tall grass and into the creek. The dogs wouldn’t be able to track me through the water. Another trick Elizabeth had taught me. I pushed my way downstream past the hollow avoiding the light coming from Master Johnson’s farm. I followed the stream until I reached the sea, stumbling, falling onto the large rocks that jutted out like razors along the water’s edge. The full moon gave me away, sparkling brightly onto the sea, lighting up the beach. I could hear them coming, the dogs barking, the loud angry voices.  I stumbled, panting, I was so weary. How long had I been running? It seemed like forever. I followed the shoreline until I reached a cove. My feet ached within my soaked boots, cut and bleeding from the rocks and thistles. I crept into a small cave and tucked deep into its corner.

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