Chapter 1

Rowan rose from her hiding spot in the underbrush of a row of bushes. She watched carefully as the town guard shrugged and wandered back towards Meadow Hill. Her hand rested on the hilt of her dagger as it always did in tense situations. She had no intention of harming them, even if they caught her. After all, she had known both men her entire 17 years.

She drew in a deep breath. It was the close call she hoped she wouldn’t have had this afternoon. It seems she miscalculated when the guard took their midday break. It made sense that when the children had started going missing their patrols had increased. As the pair disappeared she felt it safe to leave her hiding place completely.

She pulled her hood from her head and shook her head to let her red hair fall. She straightened her belt with the silver dagger still attached. When she was satisfied with its placement, she reached behind herself to pull her wooden crossbow from its sling. She extended the arms and pulled the string back.

“Perfect,” she whispered to no one in particular, it was nice and taut, ready for her bolts.

She pulled a bolt her cylinder, the gear inside turned automatically to reveal another as she fixed it into her crossbow. The gear’s mechanical clicking resonated through the woods behind her. Rowan threw the crossbow over her back and turned her head to the sky. The purple and pink of the evening sun setting over the treetops north of Meadow Hill indicated she was running late. She had to get moving now if she was going to make it to the Count’s castle by nightfall.

She hated to admit her own shortcomings but she wasn’t exactly an expert navigator. Getting lost in a pitch black wood at night wasn’t her idea of fun. She checked for the guard once more before making a beeline for the trees. Rowan paused for a moment at the uneven line of trees. She dropped to a knee and scanned the spaces between looking for any movement.

At this point she wasn’t sure what she hoped to see, only that it’s be too soon to see it. A sign of anything resembling Susanna would do. She knelt motionless for a moment allowing her thoughts to wander. It was easy to get emotional or her baby sister she had been gone for weeks at this point.

Whatever I find, it won’t be pretty. No one can survive the woods alone this long.

Her green eyes watched carefully as she considered her next steps carefully. If the rumors were true, this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk. She remembered her father’s words before continuing, “no wood takes that many children, something else has taken Susanna.” His words sent chills down her spine.

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her weaved cloak. Her freckles peppered around her tired eyes, contorting as she pulled at her skin wiping the tears away in a couple brief motions. Susanna wasn’t alone in her fate, in fact many children had gone missing recently. Susanna was just the most recent. All were female and all went missing around Count Bancroft’s estate.

Hardly an estate, more of a castle. At least that’s what we called it.

The Bancroft estate stood atop a high bluff overlooking Meadow Hill. While Meadow Hill was a small village nestled in the hills of Darkwood, the Bancroft Estate was a spiraling stone complex straight out of the princess fairy tales Rowan’s father used to read her as a child. The estate was nearly the size of the entire village just down the hill. It’s high towers watched over their small town, their windows alit at night with nay a soul to occupy them. We’ll, there was one soul they knew occupied that property, Count Bancroft.

Bancroft was a rich socialite and from the little that Rowan knew, some noble from the Western lands. He and his family had migrated to Meadow Hill several decades prior. They were best known for their privacy, Rowan had never once met the Count or his family. The town mayor only said common folk were not permitted to approach the estate grounds. Only delivery men were permitted to approach and even they only delivered essential goods.

Rowan wasn’t sure what her plan was, best case scenario she found something, anything that hinted to what happened to Susanna. She didn’t even want to acknowledge the worst case scenario. Rather than dwell, Rowan shot one last look back down the spiraling hills to Meadow Hill then pressed forward into the trees. As she stepped inside, Rowan reached into her pack and removed a red scarf from her satchel hanging from her side. She whipped it out and tied it tightly around a nearby tree.

With the knot secured, Rowan continued inside, her eyes scanning the tree trunks for movement as she went. She stopped every ten yards or so securing scarves on branches and ducking and climbing over fallen trees and thick brush. She continued until eventually reaching a small hill that descended further. Rowan tied a scarf to a branch on top of the hill and in one quick slide found herself at the bottom of the hill where she secured another red scarf.

She turned from her knot in the trees and hurried forward repeating her pattern. Finally she found herself standing before another large oak tree. She began tying the knot with her next scarf and let out a deep breath. She looked up from her scarf to see the towers of the Bancroft Estate looming over the treetops. Rowan was surprised to have already almost reached the castle walls.

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Suddenly, she saw it, a torn piece of blue fabric whipping in the wind. It’s thin fabric loosely snagged onto a low hanging branch. It appeared to be the same color as Susanna’s dress from the night she disappeared. A blue sun dress she played in daily in the streets of Meadow Hill with her friends.

Without another thought, Rowan hoisted herself upwards grasping branches as she went. As her last foot left the ground she heard a faint voice. It could’ve been a whisper but she couldn’t be sure.

What’re you doing here?

It was slight, fleeting, had she been making much more noise she never would’ve heard it. Rowan turned her head from her climb. She checked both directions, left then right. She felt a chill run down her spine at the possibility of someone or something stalking her. She shook it off, if someone was following her they’d have to climb a tree to get to her.

Just then as she found her next hold in the thick bark of the tree she heard it, laughter. Once again, it was faint but present.

“Who’s out there?” She called, she wasn’t sure if calling out was such a good idea, may be better to let them reveal themselves. There was no answer only the rustling of the autumn leaves over her head. Rowan continued upwards once more.

Where are you going?

The voice was more prominent now, female, whoever they were they were close. Rowan raced upwards hanging on a tree suspended in mid-air was not where she wanted to be in an encounter. Finally, she reached the top without another interruption. She pulled herself to the thick branch and swung her leg over. She straddled the branch and let her legs dangle.

The fabric was just within reach.

“Oh no,” she mouthed. The blue fabric had three large slices diagonally in a downward motion. Whatever did this, it was a close call, Susanna was likely running when it happened. The trim on the dress was of a pretty silver, Rowan could picture her sister dancing in it in their front yard.

Rowan turned her head to catch the slowly retreating evening sun striking the castle’s high walls. Even with the height of the tree prepping her she couldn’t see into the courtyard. It didn’t look very impressive anyway, not from a decorative standpoint anyway. In fact, if she hadn’t known anything about the Bancroft’s she would’ve assumed no one resided in the estate. The castle’s large towers overshadowed the woods. Their illuminated candles in their windows were alight.

Rowan gazed down at the torn clothing in her hand and sighed. All signs point to Castle Bancroft. She considered her options, come back in the daylight tomorrow or find a way over the walls. Moving in the night would definitely be easier and unexpected, it didn’t appear staff were present on the property to any degree. Going back into town would only trigger a posse to return with her. Plus, she’d have to make her escape all over again.

It was decided, she would sneak in tonight. Rowan hoisted herself downwards and clutched the tree trunk. Swiftly, she dropped to the ground below, she pocketed the clothing into her satchel.

What are you doing here?

Rowan turned in one smooth motion and allowed the crossbow to fall from her back on its sling. She whipped the large weapon, using the movement in as she turned to swing it downward towards her hands. She grasped it tightly and brought the sights to her right eye, scanning the trees for movement.

Rowan saw nothing, not even a rustle of leaves and branches to indicate someone’s presence. Still, she couldn’t shake the instinct that she was being watched. Just then, there was a rustle of snapping twigs and bounding steps. They were heavy, as if someone plodded through the darkening wood uncontrollably.

A shadow in the distance dashed between tree trunks. Rowan found her mark and pulled the trigger. The bolt whooshed and struck a tree. She groaned in frustration as she tapped the metallic quiver on her thigh. The cylinder clicked with a metallic clicking noise. A single bolt clicked out of it’s recess.

While she kept her eyes on the moving figure she grasped the end of the bolt and slid it into place. She couldn’t help but smile at her fluid reload. She’d been practicing for months.

Rowan saw it again and fired, the bolt whistled, indicating a clean miss. The steel bolts were made with tiny holes cut at an angle into the shaft. The idea was if the shot missed it would whistle away. A shooter wasn’t always fortunate to hear a thunk or smack against wood. It let her know she was clear to load her next shot.

Rowan smacked her thigh, the device clicking in a clean rhythmic fashion as it served the next bolt. She lifted the crossbow once more and…silence. She scanned the brush, no rustling and no movement. It seemed whatever was following her had become still. She spun to point the crossbow in the opposite direction.

Still clear, she raised and eyebrow and brushed her red hair to one side. She turned her head to the walls of the Bancroft estate. It was settled, Susanna, if she were alive, would have to be in that castle.

Rowan

The voice was back and whoever it was, they were right behind her. The woman’s hot breath flowed over her right shoulder. Rowan turned once more, before she could identify her stalker, her world went black.