The air is lightly perfumed with a vanilla scent from the candles on the wrought-iron floor stand I can see over in the corner. The floor is slate, cold as I drop my feet over the edge of the walnut sleigh bed. The room is expansive, darkened by the heavy velvet drapes at the window. Massive pieces of walnut furniture stand against ornately papered walls, and a large full-length mirror leaning against the opposite wall echoes my every move.
The forest lies beyond a field of tall grasses. A stand of white-bark birch trees brings relief to the utter blackness of the forest. The trees are bare, bending in the winter's wind, silhouetted by the glare of the sun.
The trail through the field is well-marked, grasses browning and bent, well-trod. The trail narrows where it enters the forest. My horse whinnies and pulls back in fear as we enter the cobwebbed canopy. His hoofs are silent; the trail is covered in wet leaves. We must be careful not to slip.
Directly in front of us, the trail ends abruptly at a quietly babbling brook. The water is clear, and cold to the touch when I dismount and pass my fingers through it. The bottom is paved with smooth, time-worn stones; I see schools of small minnow near the center. The brook appears to be about 3 feet deep, for the most part, and 6 or 7 feet across. I look upstream, where the water cascades over a large mossy boulder and churns briefly at the bottom before descending downstream. I can see where the trail picks up on the other side.
A glint of light catches my eye. I look over and see a brass flask on the bank of the creek. It is ornately engraved, full and round on the bottom, narrowing at the top. It is about 8 inches tall, two-handled. I swing down from my horse for a closer look. In the center of an engraved oval, I see a monogram, strong and masculine in style. It reads JSM.
There is a sharp ringing sound, breaking the silence of the trail. My horse's shoe has hit something. I climb back down to investigate, and to my surprise, I find a heavy iron key, the old-fashioned type. Rusted with disuse, and about five inches long, the key is heavy in my hand. It looks as though it could unlock a heavy castle door, or a pirate's trunk.