Page 2 of Untethering Dark

Then it stopped, and the sounds of chewing followed. Sharp teeth tearing and grinding down meat, bone, and gristle whole.

Altes Geweih had come to collect his offering.

She stilled, hardly daring to draw breath.

Hexe Mutter Perchta, a powerful winter hag, had coexisted alongside the ancient beast for centuries, guiding Astrid in how to do the same. Every night for the last three decades, Astrid left out an offering of blood or meat, just as her mother taught her. Squirrel, sometimes fowl, or hare. If she brought down something larger, like deer or wild pig, she’d set out a choice cut or a cup of its drained blood. The portion didn’t have to be big. Just fresh and raw.

For as long as Astrid had lived in this forest, a tenant in Altes Geweih’s domain, she’d never seen the creature that came for his nightly due. Always heard, but never seen, except perhaps by those who met the lethal points of his teeth and claws. If he caught her watching...well, she didn’t dare test the bounds of his tolerance. Not even a peek out her cottage window.

Ancient, feral beasts weren’t known for their restraint or mercy.

So long as Astrid continued paying nightly tribute and did nothing to incur his wrath, she could continue living in the forest where she belonged.

Rationally, she knew she’d done nothing to displease him, and that the magical wards around her home were strong, but tendrils of fear still crept in, quickening her pulse. Just knowing he stood beyond her front gate.Devouring.

Altes Geweih, please accept my humble offering.

It wasn’t until the creature finished eating and moved on, disappearing into the night, that she finally took up her knitting needles and found peace in the silence.

Chapter Two

Jingling sleigh bells brought Astrid outside her cottage and into the bright, midafternoon light. It was about time.

Perchta was late.

Astrid tugged a knitted cap over her ears and squinted across the landscape of sparkling, untarnished snow.

A silver-gilded black sleigh glided into view, pulled by a team of eight demon-touched mountain goats, snowy furred and red eyed, their breath shooting out from flared nostrils. If anyone but Hexe Mutter got too close, they would bite, their teeth pointed and sharp.

Inside sat Mutter Perchta pulling on the reins, her wolfish yellow eyes gleaming.

An old fur-lined cloak nestled atop her shoulders, several shades of gray darker than the long woolen dress underneath, which was a little frayed at the edges and cinched at the waist with a silver cord. Mutter did not dress for the modern age. Never had, and Astrid doubted she ever would.

The sleigh slowed, stopping alongside her.

“Guten Tag, Tochter. Are you ready?”

Ready? She’d waited twenty-nine years for this.

“More than.” Astrid hopped up onto the sleigh bench next to a fuzzy bundle of orange.

Oskar, Perchta’s swift-footed fox familiar, blinked sleepily from his heating pad. He was their family’s furry partner in crime. Scout, spy, messenger, companion. He played a number of different roles in exchange for food, shelter, the joy of mischief-making, and belly rubs.

“Tuck the blanket in tight.”It was a thought, but one Astrid heard all the same. While Oskar’s fox anatomy didn’t allow him to speak out loud, as Perchta’s familiar he knew their language and could communicate with them mentally.

Reaching down, Astrid pulled up the thick, blue blanket that pooled at her feet. The very same one that Mutter had wrapped her in when she was a child, leaving a miserable home. Though frayed in some places, threadbare in others, the sleigh blanket was still largely intact—and more importantly, still warm. She tucked it snugly around the fox’s body and across her lap.

Oskar buried his wet, black nose between his paws, body heaving a sleepy sigh.

This wasn’t her first time in Perchta’s sleigh, not by a long shot. It was, however, her first time accompanying the Hexe on her yearly Yuletide visit to Baden-Gottsdorf—the town that sat at the base of the mountain and skirted along the edge of the forest. Doling out silver coins and meting out punishment where needed, all while the town slept.

Only, instead of being the child who needed protection, Astrid would help Perchta in her age-old practice ofdoingthe protecting. Warning where needed. Belly-slitting when enough was enough.

Excitement thrummed through her veins, as bright and cheerful as those winter mornings so long ago when she woke up to find silver coins in her shoes. Those blissful hours before her human parents woke and trudged down the stairs, the previous night’s liquor souring their breath as much as their tempers.

As soon as Astrid was settled, Perchta flicked the reins. The sleigh team launched into motion, kicking up snow with their cloven hooves. They raced across the landscape, wasting no time in getting off the mountain.

Sunset was two hours away and every minute in between was precious. If they weren’t out of the forest before Altes Geweih’s nightly prowl began, the children of Baden-Gottsdorf would never see another silver coin again.

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