Autumn 1817 – Howling Like the Emptiest Heart in the World

We were still miles from from home. The horses could not run any farther. The storm had them panicked and the panic kept them moving but they would drop soon, panicked or not. I had no wish to kill them but we would not last the storm if we had no shelter. 

“Hyacinth, can you hold the horses?” I asked. 

She frowned. “I can try. What are you doing?”

I pulled on the reins until the mares stopped moving. I said, “I’m going to talk to the thunder.”