I turn back, eyeing the one facing me. It vibrates in constant short motions, like a fighter ready to throw a punch, but it doesn’t move closer to me.
“At the end of the year, some of the old covens celebrate Perchtenlauf,” she tells me, her voice coming out strangled. “My mother told me about it. Villagers wear masks to scare off winter.”
“These are more than masks.”
“Iknow.” Stress makes her snap. “And we are not in winter.”
I’ve never heard of such a tradition, but as a Christian, there are Karneval masks worn during Lent, wooden things that are meant to scare away the devil. And despite the archbishop decrying the tradition, some mothers still tell their children about Krampus, and some fathers don scary masks and pretend to steal their misbehaving children while Saint Nicholas gives gifts to the good ones.
I have a feeling that no mask could compare to these monsters.
And while these beings are terrifying, they still aren’t attacking. I tug Fritzi’s hand, and she takes my meaning, stepping with me as we shift left. The creatures watch us, but do not attack. They do, however, close ranks, the three of them forming a semicircle with the mound behind us.
“Do they want us to go up the barrow hill?” Fritzi asks.
“I think so.” We take another step closer. The circle of monsters tightens. We take a tentative step away, to the south, and the large one with the uneven jaw growls until we are another step nearer the barrow.
“The mistletoe,” Fritzi says, leaning against me. “They don’t attack us because of the protection of the mistletoe.”
I wonder if Fritzi’s crown of green leaves and white berries is different from the ones Cornelia made. Perhaps Fritzi using wild magic did something to separate us from the others, or perhaps they are all being herded by monsters toward the barrow.
We take several steps away from the monsters. The ground underfoot is uneven now as we are herded sideways up the hill.
More monsters join, all of them pushing us higher, higher…
We reach the top of the barrow, Fritzi and I at the very apex, surrounded by more than a dozen monsters, each more hideous than the last.
And then the ground gives way, and we fall straight down into the grave.
18
Fritzi
A scream rips out of me, the noise cut off by the jarring impact of my body slamming into something dense and moist. Darkness permeates the space, the single hole above giving only barest gray-white light, and I scramble to my feet, immediately swinging around, terrified that losing my grip on Otto’s hand means we’re separated now.
But he’s there, picking himself up from the fall. A spongy layer of moss coats the ground, pieces of it sticking to our clothes, and Otto bats chunks of it off as he looks up at the hole above our heads. It’s at least twice my height over us, too far to jump, but the distance tells me we haven’t fallen all the way through the barrow.
I start to shout for Cornelia, for Alois, when shapes appear over the hole.
Perchta’s creatures.
I lurch back into the shadows instinctively. A dozen grotesque faces gather around the hole, backlit by the lowlight so they become hornedsilhouettes peering down at us. I can feel their empty eyes on my skin, but they make no move to pursue us; they simply stare, standing watch. Standing guard.
“Does this mean Perchtawantsus to be here,” Otto whispers, “or is this her way of killing and entombing us?”
“I don’t give a damn what Perchta wants,” I say. “There has to be another way out of this barrow. If there isn’t, we’ll make one.”
“The stone could be here,” Otto notes. “In which case, she led us to it. Or her guardians did.”
I turn around, trying to get a better look at where we are, and I prod the connection with Holda in my mind.
Unsurprisingly, there is resistance. Like I have fallen not only into a barrow, but into a cage that bars me from her. Panic flares in me, and I look down at the moss beneath my feet, using one quick pull at wild magic to make a bundle of wildflowers grow. They launch up without hesitation, and I exhale.
I’m cut off from Holda, but not wild magic. Perchta can control access to her sister in this space, but that is all.
Resolve settles over me, and I squint, willing my eyes to adjust. We’re in a circular space, moss spreading out across the floor and up over the walls, a muted green blanket that cakes the air in smells of earthiness and sealed growth.
“There.” Otto points. In the far part of this space is a darker shadow—an opening.
