The screams hadn’t stopped.Rabbie was squirming in Jean’s tight grip. At three years old, her brother was too young to understand why staying quiet was so necessary, especially when he was too frightened to stop moving. Rabbie wanted their mother, but Jean knew that wasn’t possible. Their mother was dead. Jean had watched as shadows spilled over her mother’s shoulders. At first her mother had screamed for Jean to take Rabbie and run. She’d kept screaming, but there had been no more words.Whether tired or defeated, Jean didn’t know, but Rabbie finally quit struggling in her arms. He gave a little whimper as his body went slack. Jean’s hand remained clamped over Rabbie’s mouth, though she was careful not to cover his nose and smother him. Jean prayed the creatures hadn’t heard the tiny sound. Now that Rabbie had quieted, Jean dared to close her eyes and wonder who or what had brought such a terrible curse upon Dorusduain.Jean’s grandmother had taught her about curses.
