Page 97 of Gilded

Serilda nodded.

“They’ll be released so the hunt can chase them through the city. Once they’ve all been captured, they kill them and throw the meat onto the god of death and … and then the hounds havetheirfeast.”

Serilda cringed. “That sounds gruesome.”

“Mama says it’s because the dark ones are at war with death. Have been ever since they escaped Verloren.”

“Maybe,” said Serilda. “Or maybe this is one way he can get revenge.”

“Revenge for what?”

Serilda glanced down at the girl, thinking about the story she’d told to Gild about the prince slaying the huntress Perchta, and the god of death taking her spirit back to Verloren.

But that was just a story. One that had woven itself in her mind’s eye, like a tapestry on the loom, each thread gradually adding to the image until the scene slowly took shape.

It was not real.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m sure your mother is right. The god of death kept the dark ones trapped in Verloren for a long time. I’m sure they’re still resentful about it.”

At the front of the crowd, Madam Mayor started to make a speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and explaining to them why this night was so important, though Serilda doubted anyone needed reminding.

At one point, she looked about to say something more, but then her gaze darted to Serilda and she caught herself, instead stammering out something about breakfast at the public house tomorrow morning, in celebration of another successful feast.

Serilda glanced up at the castle, wondering if Lorraine had been about to mention the town’s resident benefactor—Vergoldetgeist. She had a feeling that the breakfast was an annual tradition every bit as much as the preparation of this feast for the dark ones was, and that tomorrow all of Adalheid would gather around eagerly to see what gifts of gold their fishermen and divers brought home.

“Leyna,” she whispered. “Do you know who this castle belonged to before it belonged to the Erlking?”

Leyna frowned up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Surely the dark ones didn’t build it. It must have been the home of mortals at some point. Royalty, or at least nobility. A duke or a count perhaps?”

Leyna curled her lips up close to her nostrils in a way that Serilda knew Madam Sauer would have found most unseemly. It was an endearing, tough-thinking look. “I suppose so,” the girl answered slowly. “But I don’t remember anyone ever talking about it. It must have been a long time ago. Nowadays, it’s just the Erlking and the dark ones. And the ghosts.”

“And Vergoldetgeist,” Serilda murmured.

“Shh!” said Leyna, tugging on Serilda’s wrist. “You aren’t supposed to know about that.”

Serilda whispered a distracted apology as the mayor finished her speech. Candles and lanterns were lit, allowing her to more clearly see the effigy they had made. It hardly resembled the one she’d watched the children make for the Märchenfeld celebration. This likeness was taken seriously. Cloaked in black robes and looking fearsomely realistic with its skull’s head and sprigs of poisonous hemlock sewn to its hands. Would the hellhounds devour those, too? Would it not harm them? Maybe it strengthened them, she reasoned. Kindling for the fires in their bellies.

The figure was anchored to a tall wooden column and surrounded by alder branches, a nod to Erlkönig, the Alder King.

As the last stripes of purple light began to fade, the townsfolk started toward their homes. Lorraine and Frieda headed to the inn, walking, perhaps, a hair closer to each other than was strictly necessary. Lorraine occasionally glanced back, making sure Leyna was following.

“If you still wanted to get in to that castle,” Leyna said, “I’d take a boat, row up along the far side of the drawbridge, then climb up the rocks just under the gate. It isn’t as steep on that side, and you should be able to get over the rail.”

Leyna gave Serilda instructions about which boat to use and when she should go. “As long as there’s no one watching the gate, that is,” the girl said.

“Do you think there will be?”

Leyna shook her head, though she seemed uncertain. “Just don’t go until after they’ve started the hunt. They’ll all be so busy watching the games and eating our food, they won’t even notice you.”

Serilda smiled. “You’ve been marvelously helpful.”

“Yes, well … don’t get killed; otherwise, I’ll feel horrid about this.”

Serilda squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t plan to.” With a quick glance toward Lorraine and Frieda, Serilda sidestepped into a narrow alley, disappearing into the shadows and separating herself from the crowd.

She waited for the noise of footsteps and chatter to fall silent before peeking out from her hiding spot. Seeing the streets empty, she scurried quickly down to the docks, staying to the shadows as much as she could. It was easier on a night like this, when the people of Adalheid took their lanterns inside.