Page 17 of Untethering Dark

He paused, looking back at her over his shoulder. Waiting.

Scheiße. Say something interesting.

“What about the other three?”

She winced.Du Idiot!

Why should she care about the tourists who wrecked her garden? Who trudged through the forest, disturbing its peace? Just taking, taking, taking, and giving nothing in return. No gifts in exchange for the souvenirs they stole, the images they captured, the things they damaged. Not even tolls or prayers for safe crossing.

“What of them?” His growl sharpened and snapped, chilling her to the bone. “Do you have sympathy for the trespassers? And their disrespect?”

No sympathy. No pity either. Grievances like these repeated by many over time endangered the forest and everything within it. If the hikers couldn’t pay their way with basic courtesy, or adherence to plainly marked rules, blood it would have to be.

She took a cookie for herself and bit into it. “Happy hunting.”

The creature dipped its head and disappeared silently into the trees.

It was full dark now, the sun but a memory.

Astrid remained outside, eating Springerle as she soaked in the frigid night air, relishing its biting chill on her skin, watching her breath cloud in front of her face.

Alive. So wonderfully alive.

But remembering her poor, frightened goats, the moment for quiet rejoicing passed.

Briefly going back inside, Astrid added layers under her coat, and hiked out into the forest to look for Fritz and Liesel, worry gnawing her insides. Their winter coats would keep them warm through the night, but what if they were lost and couldn’t find their way home?

As she followed their cloven tracks in the snow, weaving in and out between the trees, the screaming began.

Chapter Five

Gudariks chased the taste of fear and flesh away with another one of the witch’s cookies. He slaughtered the human trio one-handed, so not to spoil the treats with their blood.

No one had ever offered him Springerle before.

Or tried to poison him.

He chuckled at the memory—the sudden change of her mind, and only then scenting the death cap. Nothing that grew in his forest could kill him, but how thoroughly duped he would’ve been.

Cunning, wily creatures who didn’t go down without a fight—prey that stuck it to the predator, made them choke on their barbs, their poison, had his full admiration and respect. Nature did not create creatures equally, but with every weakness came unique strengths. Prey never meant helpless, just targeted.

And maybe, just maybe, as magically enhanced as it was, itcouldhave killed him.

Not a theory he was keen to test, but it didn’t diminish the taste of the poison-free Plätzchen he had eaten.

It wasn’t the flour, the sugar, or anise that had him craving more of the witch’s confections. No, what drew him was the infusion of her effort. He couldtasteit. Every layered feeling. The careful concentration, the struggle, the frustration, and the tantalizing depth of triumph after dancing repeatedly with failure.

Lovely, delicious emotions baked right in with the dough.

And for once, something other than fear.

He didn’t know much about the witch that dwelled in his forest. By the time he arrived at her front gate each nightshe was already squirreled away inside the cottage, curtains drawn. Some nights the windows were dark. On others, they were awash with the warm glow of firelight. But never did they indicate anything more about the life held within. Not even the silhouette of a curious witch wanting to catch a glimpse of him.

All that betrayed the witch’s presence each night was the sound of her hammering heart.

From the outside looking in, the things he observed were small. Two well-doted-upon goats, a pair of snowshoes left out on the stoop, a tidy yard and winter garden painstakingly coaxed to life. She lived a quiet life of contentment, one so close and yet so distant from his.

Night after night, year after year, the witch, and the hag that raised her, left him offerings of flesh. A tithe for living in his forest. And every night he collected it and hunted for the intruders who dared linger after the sun had set instead.

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