Page 6 of Untethering Dark

Astrid kept out of sight, sticking to the shadows, staying low to the ground. And there, crouching in a dark corner of her parents’ bedroom, she watched what Perchta did to parents who abused and neglected their children.

Astrid didn’t cry, didn’t scream, didn’t so much as blink when Perchta gutted her parents and stuffed their belliesfull of pebbles and straw.It was gross, it was scary. It was fascinating—that’s what people looked like on the inside? But for all that she trembled and scooched as far back into the dark corner of the room as she could, there was relief too.

No one saw, no one cared. But the winter goddess did.

A tear slipped down her cheek.Danke Frau Perchta.

A furry orange body brushed up against her, soft tail swishing. The fox.“Hello, child. Why are you awake?”

Perchta stiffened. And for one agonizing second, Astrid feared she was next. Gratitude in the wake of her parents’ deaths was very naughty, after all. But the ancient Hexe tucked away her bloodied dagger and turned slowly, surprise softening her wicked features. “You saw?” Her voice was gentle. Kind.

So used to the opposite, Astrid knew the difference. The goddess wasn’t pretending to be nice.

“I wanted to watch the snow.” She hugged her knees as her stomach rumbled. “Are they gone? Can I leave now?”

“The sleeping spell didn’t work on her,” the fox said.

“How curious.” Perchta bent at the waist. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, I think. Would you like to come with us, child?”

“Do you live in the forest?”

“I do.” The Hexe smiled, revealing needle teeth. Despite their sharp edges, there was a warmth to that smile, a promise of protection. And if anyone could protect Astrid, it was this terrifying creature of her fairy tales.

“Will I live with you?”

“If you wish.” A pause. “Do you?”

“Maybe. If I like it.”

Perchta’s smile only brightened, and she extended her hand. “Come. Let’s get you something to eat. And then we’ll see whether forest life is to your liking.”

Astrid took the Hexe’s hand, following her to the sleigh. “Are you my fairy godmother?”

Perchta’s wolfish eyes glistened. “For you, child, I can be.”

Astrid found Perchta in the child’s bedroom, smoothing a cool hand across their brow. “Poor darling. Just wants to be accepted as they are.” Her lips twisted. “Last year, their parents took away perfectly good toys—dolls namely.”

Astrid’s stomach clenched. Her own hadn’t understood her either. Thought she was a strange child. But under Mutter’s tutelage, she grew to learn that “strangeness” was a strength, not a weakness. “And this year?”

“This year, it was dresses and nail polish. A lot of name-calling and lies. Slammed doors. Other intimidation methods. It hasn’t gotten directly physical...yet.”

Picking a stuffed bear from the floor beside the bed, Astrid tucked the toy into the curve of the sleeping child’s arm, her heart melting as they curled around it and hugged it tightly to their chest.

Hurt, anger, and a fierce longing she didn’t understand speared through her chest. “You’re perfect,” she whispered, roughly swiping her eyes.No, no, no.This was not going to make her cry.

The child sighed softly.

Scheiße.

Astrid let out a shuddering breath, staring at the ceiling as traitorous tears rolled down her cheeks. “What will happen to them?” she bit out. “If their parents don’t change for the better in a year?”

Astrid’s upbringing in Perchta’s home was the exception, not the rule. The other children had to go somewhere where they could be loved and properly cared for.

“I have arrangements with a local children’s home. A good one. I’ve made plenty sure of that.” There was a cold edge to the statement. Evidently, parents weren’t the only ones who needed to stay in Perchta’s good graces. “There’s a group that works directly with the families, too. Providing resources, tools. Various kinds of healing. But if that fails... Someone collects the children before they wake. They never have to see.”

“Good.” Astrid was six when she witnessed her parents’ belly slitting, but she wasn’t meant to.

“Come, Tochter.” Perchta hobbled out of the room, making Astrid’s heart twinge again. Home after home, year after year, century after century. Everything the winter goddess must’ve seen. The burden, no, the responsibility, borne on these ancient shoulders. “Let’s give the parents their final warning.”

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