Shadow-Time Lover

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An Excerpt From: SHADOW-TIME LOVER

Copyright ? R. CASTEEL, 2004

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

Chapter One

Romania

1350 A.D.

Zolona sat on the window seat
of her second-floor bedroom, looking out over the vast estate of her father,
the lord of Garlanzo Castle.
It was the first night of the full moon when evil walked the land. She knew
it was not so. Bright moonlight kept the true evil away, driving it into
hiding until the light began to wane.

The deed must be done in the shadow-time. It was for
this hour she waited, alone in the darkened room. She was frightened of the
evil but sought to embrace it. If she went too early it would mean her
death, too late and the evil would pass into her and be perpetuated for
another generation.

The door opened, the dim light of the torch outlined the
bent and bony form of the seer. ?My child,? she screeched in a
high-pitched, irritating voice. ?Ya are the last
virgin daughter within the castle walls. Yer
father has been wise ta keep ya
pure. Yer deceitful sisters refused ta do their duty and took lovers between their legs.?

?I know what I must do,? Zolona
answered quietly.

?Have ya prepared yer body with the oil of the rose to mask the scent of yer fear?? The creaking of her old bones grew louder as
she approached the window.

?Da, Seer, I have done as ya
instructed.? She turned her face back to the moonlight. This was her
destiny, to rid the land of the evil curse.

?Ya have yer
gown ready?? The seer?s voice grated on her nerves. The claw-like fingers
of the old hag dug into her shoulder.

?Woman,? she snapped. ?Do yer
ears sag like yer breasts so that they too are
useless? Go! Be on yer way. Leave me at once.?

She heard the woman wheezing and the shuffling of her
feet as she moved across the floor. Zolona did
not know how old she was, nobody did. It was rumored her life was tied to
the curse. The gods knew she had been an old sourpuss for longer than
anyone living could remember. It would be worth the sacrifice of her
virginity just to be rid of the crone.

The door closed and darkness came from the far corners,
filling the room. Zolona stood, opened the
window, and stepped onto the balcony. The howl of a wolf echoed through the
valley and a chill caused her body to shake. She raised her arms to the sky
and her robe dropped to the cold stone. Moonlight bathed her naked body and
a breeze swirled around her, carrying the scent of roses off into the
night.

She offered up a prayer to the gods that they might look
favorably upon her. To the Moon God that he might soon hide his face, and the god of morning whose star lit the sky
before dawn, that he might accept the offer of her virgin blood. Last, she
set her eyes upon the Warrior in the sky and prayed for courage and a
strong heart, lest fear pave the way for failure.

The moon continued on his course to the sea and the
entrance to the land of death and darkness. The time was at hand. She must
make the final preparation.

Turning, Zolona stepped
through the window-paned doors and crossed the darkened room to her bed.
The white, sheer gown seemed to glow with a mysterious sheen against the
deep burgundy of the thick comforter. The old woman had given her the
material with a strict warning not to put the garment on until this very
night.

Picking up the silk-like material, she slipped it around
her shoulders and tied the thin sash below her breasts. It clung to her
upper body like a second skin and bellowed out into a sensuous cloud around
her feet. Her body lost the chill of the night air and began to warm. What
spirits were at work this night that this see-through, apparition-like
garment gave her body heat?

Her bare feet made little noise as she crossed the stone
floor. Zolona pulled the heavy oak door open and
the dim light from the torch in the hall spilled into the room. With what
might be her last look at her comfortable bed, she turned and headed down
the wide, drafty passage to the stairs.

An eerie silence hung over the interior of the castle. Dark
ghosts danced on the walls as the burning torches along the way sent
fingers of fire and black smoke toward the ceiling. It was as if the castle
walls themselves were in league with the spirits that walked in the
shadow-time of predawn.

She heard a noise behind her, but dared not turn around.
Her eyes could not look upon another human face until the power of the
curse broke and moon?s face began to change.

Zolona descended the stairs.
The faces, woven into the tapestries hanging on the walls, seemed to follow
her with their eyes. If they could speak, would they tell her of their own
daughters? failure to free the land of evil?

She reached the main floor. Several torches were out,
increasing the darkness within the castle. Even the servants were in hiding,
fearful of meeting her face-to-face. No doubt once she stepped through the
outer door, they would begin to scurry around catching up on their daily
duties. The last barrier stood before her.

A figure clothed in black from the hood over his face to
the hem of his long flowing robe, slipped from the shadows, and stood
before her. ?It is time. I go ta break the evil
curse upon this house and land. Release me, my father, ta
my destiny and pray the gods will be appeased with the sacrifice of my
virginity.?

He turned, pulled the door open, and stepped aside.

For the first time since her first bleeding, Zolona stood outside the castle walls without an armed
guard. If not for the hour at hand, she would have danced for joy on the
dew-covered grass.

Going down the cobblestone lane, she turned onto a
well-trodden path. She knew the way well and hurried beneath the canopy of
trees. Night animals scampered through the fallen leaves. An owl, disturbed
by her presence, dropped from a branch overhead and flew deeper into the
woods.

A wolf?s sinister howl split the night and dread crept
up her spine. Her heart began to race beneath her breast as she glanced
from side to side. Tension mounted with each quiet step.

She broke out of the trees and into a small clearing
beside the lake. The moonlight cast a white shimmering path across the
placid surface. Dew from the grass covered her feet. Wildflowers pulled at
the hem of her gown and brushed the calves of her legs like the sensuous
caress of a lover.

The gazebo stood by the water?s edge, lonely and forlorn
with neglect. She stepped inside the columns that once supported the roof.
It was gone, as she first remembered it years ago as a child, leaving the
large flat stone in the center open to the sun, moon, and stars. The stone had
drawn her in fascination from the beginning. Its smooth weather-beaten
surface still kept the discolored stains of blood, which time alone could
not wash away.

A sudden tingling along her spine caused her to gasp.
She could feel the evil staring at her from the dense underbrush at the
edge of the clearing. In her mind, she saw it circling around her, sniffing
the air, and waiting.

As the moon slipped farther from the sky, long
finger-like shapes spread across the field. Something flashed through the
grass, disappearing into another area of growing darkness. A long howl
burst forth into the clearing and caused her to jump. Her hand flew to her
mouth to cover her startled cry. Zolona tried to
hide her fear and remain calm but her palms were moist and her eyes darted
to and fro.

It was shadow-time.

The moon dropped below the mountains and the light
faded. She thought she could hear the hiss as it dipped into the distant
sea, or was it the wind whispering through the trees.

The sinister presence of evil settled around Zolona. She stood next to the rock; the backs of her
calves touching the cold damp stone. The phosphorus glow of the gown grew
brighter and she saw its light reflected from the greenish eyes of the evil
one. It was there, with her, inside the gazebo. Its harsh breathing roared
like a mighty storm within her head.

With trembling hands, she loosened the sash. The garment
parted and the night air sent a chilling breeze across her breasts. Her nipples tingled with expectation, but was it out of
fear, or the result of some perverted, immature childhood fantasy dream?
Only this time, as she sat upon the large rock, it was not a vision she
could wake up from and be back in her own bed.