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The wailing cry reverberated through the rock edged hills, startling the horses and piercing the souls of the listeners.
Joanna tightened her hold on the reins and looked up with alarm at the sheer cliff rising above their heads. The descending sun was casting long, irregular shadows, and the stark contrast of brilliant light and deep shadow only served to bury much of the terrain before them in an impenetrable darkness.
“What in hell...?” Gavin growled.
The cry came again. The sound was not distinctly human, but it was a sound Joanna had heard before.
“If I were a superstitious man, I’d say it’s the wail of a banshee.”
Joanna held out a hand to shield her eyes from the light as she peered up again at the hills. Before them lay the last hill they would have to climb before droppin
