Lair of the Lion

in the castello, and when the wailing started, she shrieked so loudly that even the don in his wing heard her. She insisted on leaving the palazzo, but Rolando said no and made her stay." Francesca laughed.
    "Why would somebody be so afraid of a little noise?"

    "That's unkind, Francesca," Isabella said gently. "You're used to the noise, but in truth, the first night I was here, I was afraid. Perhaps you should be a friend and help her get over her fears. She is young and obviously misses her famiglia. We should do what we can to aid her in feeling more comfortable."
    "She's no younger than you are. What do you think she would have done if a lion had crawled toward her the way it did toward you when you saved Brigita and Dantel?
    Everyone is talking about your courage. Theresa would have fainted dead away." There was a sneer in Francesca's voice. "What would you have done?" Isabella asked quietly. She couldn't very well admit she had fainted when Nicolai needed her the most.
    Francesca had the grace to look ashamed. "I would have fainted dead away, too," she admitted. She flashed her impish smile, assuring she was instantly forgiven. "Why didn't you faint?"
    "I knew Don DeMarco would come. The lion didn't want to kill us, but something was wrong. Something…" Isabella trailed off, unable to put into words exactly what she had sensed in the lion.
    Francesca took a deep breath as she looked around uneasily. "It's evil," she whispered it, as if the walls had ears. Isabella's head went up, and she stared at Francesca in shock and relief. "You feel it, too?" She instinctively lowered her own voice.
    Francesca nodded. "The others don't really know about it, but they feel it sometimes. It's why they put you in this room. It can't get in here. This room is protected. It's very dangerous, Isabella, and it hates you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't think you'd believe me. You awakened it when you came into the valley."
    A chill went down Isabella's spine. She had felt the disturbance even in the midst of her fear of the unknown don and the wild storm. Francesca was telling the truth.
    "How is this room protected, Francesca?" Something inside Isabella went very still. She was almost afraid of the answer, afraid she already knew what it would be.
    "This wing is part of the original palazzo. This was Sophia's room. See the carvings? The don had them done for her. It can't come in here. This room is the only place you're truly safe. I think the entity had something to do with your accident, when you nearly fell off the balcony."
    Isabella nearly gasped but kept her voice calm. "How did you hear about that? I thought no one knew of it."
    "I hear things others do not. If it is whispered, I know. I think this thing has arranged more than one accident to get rid of you."
    Beneath the coverlet, Isabella felt herself shiver, her blood suddenly like ice. "What is it?"

    Tears filled Francesca's luminous eyes. "I don't know, but you're its enemy. Please be careful. I can't bear to think it will harm you as it did…" She trailed off with a small sob and leapt to her feet, pacing halfway across the room toward the secret entrance, pressing a hand to her mouth.
    "Francesca, don't go! I didn't mean to upset you. Please, piccola, don't be unhappy. Think of the fun we'll have when Lucca comes to stay. You can help me cheer him up. He's very ill and will need plenty of rest and entertainment."
    Isabella threw back the coverlet, intending to comfort Francesca, but the girl was already gone, so fast, so silently, Isabella didn't even see her slip through the wall. Isabella sighed.
    Sophia's room. Of course her bedchamber would have to be Sophia's room. What could be more fitting? Or more frightening? What was the curse said to be? That history would repeat itself over and over. Sophia's husband had started out loving her, but in the end he had failed her, had condemned her to death. Nicolai believed that, as a DeMarco, he was part of that terrible curse, that in the end he would destroy her.
    What of Francesca? How had she known of the accident no one had spoken of? She had access to Isabella's room.
    And it had been a female voice luring her up the servants' staircase. Surely Francesca wasn't an enemy. Isabella closed her eyes. She didn't want to think that way, didn't want to be suspicious of Francesca.
    Isabella finally slept, but she dreamed of wolves and massive lions. Of chains rattling and the wailing of ghosts. Chanting. Words in a