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The howls speared intermittently through the air as Missy galloped down the faint track, her legs stretching out under her in powerful thrusts. But soon they came to some trees that crowded on either side of the path, and Thomas had to rein her in to a walk.
As the sun dipped towards the horizon, the wind picked up, bringing with it a few icy flakes. They had not gone long before Thomas realized he would not be able to ride much further. The howls were closer now, and louder, and every time Missy heard them, her head reared up and she tried to bolt. Soon Thomas’ arms and legs were aching from the strain of keeping her pointed down the path.
Thomas didn’t blame the horse. The eerie wails were having much the same effect on him. They scraped against his nerves and wormed into his brain
