Wyndano's Cloak by A. R. Silverberry

Author:A. R. Silverberry [Author's Name]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy
ISBN: 9780984103768
Publisher: Tree Tunnel Press via Indie Author Project
Published: 2010-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

penetrating the darkness of a dreamless slumber. “The Castle’s an iceberg,” she thought vaguely, pulling the blanket over her.

The cold nipped at her feet and ankles. Drawing her knees up to her tummy, she tried to burrow into what seemed like an ever-shrinking blanket.

She was sinking back into the shroud of sleep, when someone coughed. That cough, shattering the illusion that she was alone in her bedroom, startled her awake.

She willed her eyes to stay closed. If only she could pretend she was still in the Rose Castle, and this had just been a bad nightmare. The king would be tinkering in the Crystal Room. She would make cookies with Jenny’s mother that afternoon, and Jenny and Pet would join them for tea. But first, Dash would be all right, and would greet her with a knee-melting smile—then they’d ride bareback on his stallion through the crimson fields of Aerdem, and watch the rising sun turn the dew to diamonds.

If only she could pretend, she wouldn’t see, for a little while longer, her grim surroundings. She’d seen enough the night before.

After passing through a small village, her forced march with Pet ended when she turned down a long, lonely street. On either side were empty fields, save for an overgrown jumble of crabgrass and tumbleweed. The street dead-ended at a three-story house, which loomed gray and ghostly through a swath of fog. The shuttered windows were bleak and lifeless. An old oak tree, stripped of its leaves, leaned against one side of the house. The building sagged, and Bit was uncertain whether the house held up the tree or the tree propped up the house. The skeletal remains of a gate, fence posts, and railing tilted like drunken sentries around the front yard, which was a neglected wilderness of foxtails and devil’s paintbrush.

Ox goaded Bit, Pet, and Jeffrey past the gate and up a short walkway to the porch steps. A nearby street lamp illuminated the entrance. The wooden stairs and planks of the house were sun-bleached and weathered. An ancient coat of paint had all but peeled off. A sign over the door announced the establishment: Drath Orphanage for Lost and Wayward Children.

Bit and Pet were untied in the foyer. Miss Drath told Ox to lock Jeffrey in the chicken coop, where he would be “dealt with severely in the morning.” Jeffrey begged once again to be spared, but Ox gave him a kick that started him moving quickly down a dim hallway.

Miss Drath lit a candle and held it overhead. Under the flame, her face looked yellow and waxy. “You two follow me.”

Bit twisted at a corner of her pocket and glanced at Pet. Pet’s eyes narrowed and darted about the house, lingering on the windows and doors. Then she gave Bit a little nod and they followed the old woman up three flights of creaky stairs and down a series of hallways. The candle barely penetrated the darkened rooms on either side, leaving Bit with only a

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