Page 7 of Untethering Dark

Astrid followed Perchta into the parents’ room, took the silver dagger from the Hexe’s outstretched palm. The same one that splayed open her own parents on this very night, twenty-nine years ago.

The two slept peacefully. Oblivious, or indifferent, to the hurt they caused. Physically, they looked nothing like her own parents, but she saw their faces, nonetheless.

Her grip tightened on the hilt.

Perchta snapped her fingers, and their eyes shot open. No longer asleep. “They can’t move, can’t speak, but they can hear,” she said to Astrid. Then, she leaned over the bed, dancing her claws across the father’s chest, yellow eyes wild and gleaming. “Ansel is a darling child. You’d do well to remember that. There won’t be another chance.”

One by one, Perchta ripped open their nightshirts, exposing bare bellies. Each quivered with fear. An acrid urine stench followed.

Astrid stepped closer to the bed, a myriad of emotions sweeping through her. Wrath. Anguish. Rage. Betrayal. It was still her parents’ faces she saw when she looked at them. Mouths contorted with displeasure. The yelling, the screaming.

You were supposed to love me.

Astrid pressed the blade to skin.

“Not too deep,” Perchta cautioned. “Only enough to scar.”

Just enough to be a daily reminder.

Astrid nodded, carving one simple word.

“Unwürdig.”

Unworthy.

It was still dark when they finished, sunrise an hour away. Bundled up in the sleigh, they made their way back to the forest’s edge. Another year and another successful Yuletide visit by Perchta. The children had their coins and the parents who needed to be punished were punished. If they were smart, they’d make ample amends before the next year.

Astrid was exhausted. Hollowed out.

Oskar left his heating pad to curl up on her lap. She drew the well-worn sleigh blanket around them and scratched the fur behind his ears.Just like the night they came into each other’s lives.The memory clawed at her already bruised heart.

How Perchta did this every year, she had no idea.

To say the ancient Hexe had done this a thousand times was an understatement, not an exaggeration. The Hexe was fifteen hundred years old, at least, and had more than earned herself a rest. As tired and raw as Astrid felt after just one night, she knew she needed to step into the role going forward. Powerful, formidable being though Perchta was, the winter goddess was reaching her limits.

A wall of pines towered before them, the empty spaces in between the trees as black as pitch. When people entered, they were swallowed whole.

Perchta drew back the reins, bringing the sleigh team to a halt just beyond the boundary line. Several of the mountain goats tossed their heads. Others pawed at the frozen ground, impatient to get home. Their combined breath clouded the air.

But only when night gave way into day, and speckles of light peeked through the pine boughs, did they enter Altes Geweih’s territory.

Chapter Three

A strong anise-scented fog blanketed Astrid’s home, as her oven had been working overtime since the wee hours of the morning. Batches of Springerle took up every flat surface—her kitchen counters, the mantel, even the back of her couch—left out to dry and set, a tablecloth or dish towel draped over each cluster.

After napping most of yesterday, Astrid craved the busyness of a baking day. Idle hands, idle mind, a recipe for disaster. She grappled with pesky feelings enough lately to last her until next year.

As she set aside the latest baked batch to cool, she glanced out the window and saw Johanna trudging toward her cottage. Hiking poles in each hand, the older forest ranger had an olive skin tone made ruddy from exertion and the cold.

Joy jolted through Astrid as she hurried to close the oven door and shuck her oven mitts. Johanna wasn’t supposed to be working today, was she?

Astrid glanced at the monthly calendar nailed to the wall by the front door. Johanna had given it to her this time last year, bought from the Visitor Center’s gift shop.

The square for today said:

-Bake Springerle, attempt #3

-Chop firewood

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