Lair of the Lion

breath and looked around her. The entryway was quite spacious, tapers burning everywhere to light up the great hall and dispel the darkness she had glimpsed. As she stepped inside, a wind whipped down the corridor, and the flames leapt in a macabre dance. A hiss of hatred accompanied the wind. An audible hiss of acknowledgment. Whatever it was recognized her just as surely as she recognized it.
    The interior of the castello was immaculately clean. Wide-open spaces and high, vaulted ceilings gave the impression of a great cathedral. A series of columns rose to the ceilings, each ornately carved with winged creatures. Isabella could see the apparitions winding their way upward. The castello preyed on the senses—the artwork rich, the structure impressive
    —yet it was a trap for the unwary. Everything about the palazzo was beautiful, but something unearthly watched Isabella with terrible eyes, watched her with malignant hatred.
    "Follow me. The Master wishes you to be given a room. The storm is expected to last several days." The woman smiled at her, her smile genuine, but her eyes held a hint of worry. "I am Sarina Sincini." She stood there a moment waiting.
    Isabella opened her mouth to introduce herself, but no sound emerged. All at once she was aware of the utter silence in the huge palazzo. No creaking of timbers, no footsteps, no murmur of servants. It was as if the castello were waiting for her to utter her name aloud.
    She wouldn't give her name to this hideous palazzo, a living, breathing entity of evil. Her legs gave way, and she sat down abruptly on the marble tiles, close to tears, swaying with a dark dread that was a stone in her heart.
    "Oh, signorina, you must be so tired." Signora Sincini immediately wrapped an arm around Isabella's waist. "Allow me to help you. I can call a manservant to carry you if need be."
    Isabella shook her head quickly. She was shaking with cold and weak from hunger and the terrible journey, but the truth was, it was the unnerving feeling of a malignant presence watching her that filled her with dread, that caused her already shaking legs to collapse beneath her. The feeling was strong. Carefully she looked around, trying to appear composed when all she wanted to do was run.
    Without warning, from somewhere close by a roar filled the silence. It was answered by a second, then a third. The horrifying noise erupted from every direction, near and far. For one terrible moment the sounds blended and surrounded them, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The roars reverberated throughout the palazzo, filling the vaulted spaces and every distant corner. A strange series of coughlike grunts followed. Isabella, standing with Signora Sincini, felt the older woman stiffen. She could almost hear the servant's heart thudding loudly in tune to her own.
    "Come, signorina, we must get you to your room." The servant put a trembling hand on Isabella's arm to guide her.
    "What was that?" Isabella's dark eyes searched the older woman's face. She saw dread there, a fear betrayed by the woman's slightly trembling mouth.
    The woman attempted to shrug casually. "The Master has pets. You must not leave your room at night. I will have to lock you in for your own safety."
    Isabella could feel terror welling up inside her, sharp and strong, but she forced herself to breathe through it. She was a Vernaducci. She would not panic. She would not run away.
    She had come here for a purpose, risked everything to get to this place, to see the elusive don. And she had done what all others had failed to do. One by one the men she had sent out had turned back and told her it was impossible to continue. Others had come back to her facedown on the back of a horse, with hideous wounds much like a wild animal might inflict. Still others had never returned at all. Time and time again her inquiries had been met with silent shakes of heads and signs of the cross. She had persevered because she had no other choice. Now she had found the lair, and she had entered it. She could not quit now, could not allow fear to defeat her at the last moment. She had to succeed. She could not fail her brother—his life was at stake. "I must speak with him tonight. My time is running out.
    It took me far longer than I expected to reach this place. Really, I must see him, and if I don't leave soon, the pass will be closed, and I won't be able to get out. I have to leave immediately," Isabella explained in her most authoritative