The knock was sharp, insistent, a sound that cut through the howling wind like a shard of ice. William Caldwell set down his chipped mug of coffee, the familiar warmth doing little to dispel the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the weather. He wasn't expecting anyone. In this remote corner of the valley, visitors in a blizzard meant only one of two things: dire emergency or profound trouble. As he moved toward the door, the old floorboards groaning in protest beneath his feet, he felt the weight of the coming season shift. This winter, he realized with a strange certainty, had not followed him. It had been waiting for him all along.