Willowskeep Prologue

"Chiseled in stone with letters now worn
Is the riddled answer to a mystery,
Solve this question of a family now torn
And see the horror of their forgotten history."
                                - Shelaine Burnette

The piercing scream cut through the night air causing young Shelaine Burnette to jump.  "Only a bobcat calling her mate," she thought hopefully.  Looking around quickly, she made out the silhouette of the stables in the short distance.  The fog had covered everything so thickly that even the full moon could not penetrate it.  "I must hurry before they find me," she thought as she began to run again.  Entering the stables, she prayed Tempest would be there and not set loose in the fields.
Rushing to his stall, she tried to figure how much time she would need to properly saddle her pet.  A puzzled look crossed her face when she soon reached her mount, though.  "Oh Tempest, you're here!"  He was already saddled and ready to go!  She quickly looked him over to make sure everything was in order, which it seemed to be.  "Well, my friend,"  she whispered to him, "who saddled you up, or did you do this yourself?"  She smiled as she rubbed his strong neck.  "Maybe they had planned to take him away to prevent my leaving," she thought to herself.  "Well, at least I beat them to you," she said as she quickly mounted him. 
For so many years her family had been victims of the lies.  Lies that had ruled her and her sister, Eliza's, lives since their mother had been so brutally murdered.  But her discovery tonight had been the key to all of the locked doors in this mystery.
Suddenly she heard a noise.  Someone was outside of the stables!  "Oh, no,"  She thought to herself, "I've come too far to be stopped now."  She sat as still as possible, listening for footsteps that might give the person away.  Looking around quickly, she searched for any type of weapon she could use in case she was attacked.  A scythe was hanging on the wall above her.  Grabbing it, she tried to slow her breathing so she could better hear her unexpected visitor.  As she waited, she thought again of the events of this evening that had led to her escape.
After having solved the riddle on the empty grave's tombstone, she had realized her father's fate.  The jewel had given her a clue as to her mother's murder, but she had been too blind to see it right away.  The climax had been in following those horrible moans to the tower.  Seeing the old woman had frightened her half to death.  "So, you've managed to find me in my prison," the old woman had leered, "no matter, my love will take care of you just like he did Miss Katherine."  "Who are you?" Shelaine had asked her.  "You know who I am, girl."  The old woman inched closer, "I'm the Lady of the House!"  The old woman said this with an air of dignity. 
With the realization of the identity of this poor creature, Shelaine had rushed out of the tower, locking the door behind her.  In her room, she thought back to the old gardener's last words.  Everything seemed to fall in place now.  The tombstone, the jewel, the red stone, and the last words of an old man who had seen the tragedy, and knew the truth.  If only he had not been so afraid to tell anyone, he could have saved her family, and put the murderer away where he belonged.
No other sounds followed the first.  She listened a moment longer for anymore footsteps, but the only sounds were of the other horses in their stalls.  Perhaps it had been her imagination.  Her mind could easily be playing tricks on her with all that had happened to her previously.  She quickly turned her mount toward the open stable doors and silently rode out into the foggy night.
The scream of the bobcat startled her and the young stallion.  "Easy, boy," she whispered.  With a snap on the reins, she sent him into a quick trot, hoping to keep attention away from herself by staying quite.  "Nothing from the house," she whispered to herself, "perhaps we've tricked them all."  She smiled at the thought of outsmarting those who sought to stop her.
A flicker of white, almost a shadow but with seemingly more substance, caught her eye.  As she looked around her, she could not find the source of the white shadow. Perhaps, she thought again, my imagination is working over-time.  Continuing past the Black Pond, into the Lane of Willows, she brought Tempest into a fast gallop.  As she neared, she thought, the middle of the lane, another piercing scream sounded.  This one seemed more human to her, though.  At that same moment, the white shadow she had thought to be her imagination darted into her path.  This time, though, she realized it was not just a shadow, but it seemed to be a woman.  Was this glowing white woman the same one she had seen in the garden that first night she had returned?  Her thoughts were suddenly cut off when Tempest, startled by the apparition, reared onto his hind legs and threw her from her saddle.  Landing on her back knocked the wind from her lungs well enough to cause her to momentarily black out.
When she opened her eyes again, she realized she was no longer on the lane, but in the woods near the Black Pond.  As she tried to sit up, she felt something thin and hard being slipped around her neck.  Gasping for air with the tightening on her throat, she heard a woman's laughter.  She realized she was being choked to death with her own reins.  This was the last thought young Shelaine Burnette had before her last breath.