Page 12 of The Krampus's First Christmas Gift
“I’ve been busy.”
Throughout the year, krampuses who lived near one another gathered once or twice a month. Always at night, since krampuses were nocturnal. Kraghol only went around during the day because that was when Jasper came to the forest.
Kraghol avoided the gatherings. He wished he could avoid tonight, but he knew his sister and grandmother would notice and not tolerate that. So here he was.
Her eyes flicked over him. “You’re looking a little off.” Beads, bones, and stones hung on cords around her neck. They marked her as a krampus spiritual guide.
It was an honour to have such a role, especially in someone as young as his sister. The elders, those who led the krampuses, had all been spiritual guides earlier in their lives. In fact, being a spiritual guide meant you were on the path to one day being an elder.
“I am fine.” Could his sister sense that Kraghol had partially mated someone? Did spiritual guides have that ability? A lot of their skills remained a mystery to Kraghol.
Thankfully she turned away from him and looked towards the bonfire. “Bonfire Night is going well.” Freya placed her hands on her hips. “And it will be a glorious Krampus Night. The people of the city will know we are the harbingers of fear.” She bared her teeth.
Unlike himself, his sister was a true krampus at heart. She embraced their purpose. She loved Krampus Night and being a krampus.
A screech wrenched the air, louder than the other yells and cries and ringing of bells. He turned towards the source of the sound.
Of course. My grandmother.
She stood on a platform that had been erected overlooking the fire. On the platform were chairs of woven branches where the half a dozen elders sat. But right now all the elders, including his grandmother, stood.
His grandmother held her head high. Her black horns curled. Her eyes glowed red. A krampus’s eyes tended to only glow red when they were experiencing heightened emotions, like anger orfear. But his grandmother was a powerful krampus. As a result, she could make her eyes glow red at will.
The crowd grew quiet as they faced his grandmother. She did not speak for several long moments. But no one made a sound, out of either respect or fear. Either of those reasons would be satisfactory to her.
“Soon it will be Krampus Night.” Her voice rang over the crowd. “We will descend on Anorra. We will scream and howl and whip.” Her eyes glowed brighter. “The city folk will know they need to behave and keep away from evil or suffer the consequences!” Her voice rose.
Applause and yells filled the air. She lifted her hands. Immediately everyone fell silent.
“Last year, the snowstorm ruined Krampus Night!” she shouted. “They could not see or hear us as we made our way through the city.”
The snow had been so thick. Kraghol and the others had struggled to move through the streets. The wind had howled, drowning out their voices and bells. No one had been out. Those inside had seemed not to even notice their presence.
He’d barely seen anyone watching or peering out through the windows. Unlike the other krampuses, he’d been relieved.
“But this year, we will make up for the last. This year, we will be better than any year previously!” his grandmother yelled. “They will know us! They will fear us! They will respect us!” She threw back her head and screamed.
The clearing erupted with cries and howls. Then the krampuses resumed dancing. His grandmother looked out over them all.
“Go, Kraghol. Pay your respects to Grandmother.” Freya clapped him on the shoulder. “Then join us.” She walked over to her mate, Thorsten, and their parents, who were all already dancing and swinging switches and whips through the air.
Reluctantly, Kraghol walked towards the platform on the other side of the fire. His grandmother watched the dancers.
“Grandmother.” He bowed low to the woman who’d raised him.
His parents had often taken off for long periods of time when Freya and Kraghol were growing up. They’d never been attentive parents. This meant their grandmother had been the main one to raise them. She’d relished the role, since she wanted to shape her grandchildren into proper krampuses.
Clearly, she’d failed with Kraghol.
His grandmother turned slowly and stared down at him. “Kraghol, I worried you would not come tonight. Your absence from recent gatherings has been noted.”
“I’m sorry, Grandmother.”
“But Freya was certain you’d not let us down. Not tonight, at least.” She lifted her chin. “I am glad she is correct there.”
Kraghol swallowed, uncertain how to respond.
His grandmother studied him for several long seconds. “You do not take your duty as a krampus seriously, Grandson. I know you are not enthusiastic about Krampus Night.”