Hidden between distant cliffs, in some remote place visited by wolf hunters, bandits, ambushers, Carlists, sorceresses, maquis, rally drivers, ghosts, beasts and demons, the Clavell farmhouse clings to the earth like a tick. It is a house inhabited by women, and where a single day contains centuries of memories. Those of Joana, who made a pact to find a husband that inaugurated an apparently cursed progeny. Those of Bernadeta, whose eyelashes are...