Page 46 of Gilded

“I’ll offer to wash dishes,” she murmured, knowing she should strike the deal before taking advantage of the innkeeper’s hospitality. But she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days, and the idea of being turned away was unbearable.

A noise outside drew her attention back to the window. She recognized the group of children from the dock—three girls and a boy—giggling and whispering beneath the hanging iron sign of the tailor next door. As one, they all craned their heads, peering at Serilda through the window.

She waved.

In unison, they screamed and dashed into a nearby alley.

Serilda snorted in amusement. It seemed superstitions were bound to follow her everywhere. Of course, she couldn’t just be the girl with the wheel of misfortune in her eyes. Now she also had to be the girl who had emerged from the ruins of a haunted castle the morning after the Hunger Moon.

She wondered what stories the children were making up about her already.

She wondered what stories she would tell them, if given the chance.

If she was going to be the odd stranger who had ventured behind the veil, she wanted to make sure the rumors were worthy of her.

Chapter 16

The door to the public house swung open while Serilda was tending to the drude’s scratch, and she was surprised to see one of the children strolling inside with feigned calm. The girl did not look at Serilda, but darted straight to the bar and climbed up on top of one of the stools. She leaned across the wood and hollered through the kitchen door. “Mama, I’m back!”

Lorraine appeared in the doorway with a bowl in her hand. “So early! Thought I wouldn’t see you back here until nightfall.”

The girl shrugged. “Wasn’t much to do at the market, and I thought you could use some help.”

Lorraine chuckled. “Well, I won’t complain about that. Could you take this over to the young lady by the window?”

The girl hopped off the stool and took the bowl in both hands. As she approached, Serilda could see it was the same girl who had dared to ask if she was alive. And now that she was looking for it, the resemblance to the innkeeper was clear. Her skin was a shade lighter, but she had the same full cheeks and curious brown eyes.

“Your meal,” said the girl, setting the bowl in front of Serilda.

Her mouth watered to see a fluffy golden bun marked with a buttery cross and a pastry filled with apples and cinnamon.

“This looks divine, thank you kindly.” Serilda took the pastry and pulled it in half. As she took her first bite of flaky dough and soft apples, she let out an unashamed moan. It was a far cry tastier that the buttered rye bread she would have had at home.

The girl stayed at the table, shifting from foot to foot.

Serilda lifted an eyebrow at her and swallowed. “Go ahead. Ask your question.”

The girl inhaled a quick breath before blurting, “How long were you in the castle? All night? No one remembers you coming to town.Did the hunt bring you? Did you see the ghosts? How did you get out?”

“Gods alive, I’m going to need sustenance before I can answer all those,” said Serilda. Once she had gobbled down the first half of the pastry and washed it down with the cider, she glanced back out the window to see the other three children watching them.

“Your friends seem to be afraid of me,” she said. “How did you get chosen to be the unlucky one to come in and gather all this information?”

The girl puffed up her chest. “I’m the bravest.”

Serilda grinned. “I can tell.”

“Henrietta thinks you’re a nachzehrer,” the girl added. “She thinks you probably died of some tragic accident and your spirit was drawn to Adalheid because of the dark ones, but you’re not trapped behind the veil like the others, and you’re probably going to kill everyone in town as soon as we go to sleep tonight, and eat our flesh, and then turn into a pig and run off to live in the woods.”

“Henrietta sounds like a good storyteller.”

“Is it true?”

“No,” Serilda said with a laugh. “Though if it were, I probably wouldn’t admit it.” She took another bite of pastry, considering. “I’m not sure nachzehrer can talk. Their mouths are so busy eating their burial shrouds.”

“And their own bodies,” added the girl. “And everyone else.”

“That, too.”