She could hear the terrible snarls, and the screams—a man’s screams—high-pitched and desperate, even at her distance through the frozen windowpane. Frantically she yanked the bellpull, meanwhile pacing before the window. Tears welled in her eyes. Those horrible screams had all but stopped her heart, and she covered her ears to shut out the sound, but she heard it still. Something unspeakable was happening in that stable. Had Joss returned? Was that him screaming? She yanked the bellpull again. Why didn’t someone answer? With all her strength, she tore at the window latch, but it was frozen shut and wouldn’t budge. Straining her eyes toward the stable below, she saw the sledge heave to a stop beside the doors, saw Joss’s tall, muscular form silhouetted against the snow as he leapt out with Milosh close behind. It wasn’t him that she had heard screaming after all. Her heart gave a tumble of relief in her breast, and her breath released audibly. Yet while the dreadful screams had stopped, whatever had caused them was still inside that stable, and now she screamed herself, at the top of her voice, pounding on the glass with both her tiny fists.
