Almost certain the Pfennigeist is from Castle Falbirg. Will write H proper summary of theories after I interview the servants, but in short:
•Presence of red pennies•the culprit(s?) wants victims to connect the crimes; they want victims to feel powerless against them
•Only targeting noblesàspecific class-based grudge
•V Falbirgs mistreat their staff and were desperate for money until recently•likely underpaid staff, forcing complete dependency on income to keep them from leaving despite poor conditions
Overall, suspect is probably someone looking for revenge, humiliated by nobility and wants to return the favor. They know how to navigate aristocratic circles from personal observation, also likely denied basic needs when young and feels compelled to overcompensate now. High-level servant, close to the family, subject to prolonged neglect as a child, possibly abuse.
My ribs have turned to his iron manacles, locked and unforgiving around my chest.
How did he—howdarehe—
There’s a list of names under the wordINTERVIEWSon the next page. Some I recognize as castle staff, and some are new. A few notes are jotted beside each, likeBettinger—guard, hired in springandNägele— new cook, says last one had ill temper. Emeric crossed out each name as he went along.
Then, halfway down the list, the notes stop at the housekeeper’s name. She’s worked at Castle von Falbirg since long before I did; she was in the dining hall, watching with a pitcher of wine in her shaking hands, the night I was whipped for the von Hirschings.
The rest of the roster has been crossed out in one broad, savage stroke; she was his final interview.
At the bottom of the page, in large, deadly certain letters, Emeric has written one word:
ROHTPFENNI
I slam the book shut.
Then I wrap the leather string around it as many times as it will go and shove it under a far pillow, out of my sight. My heart is pounding with fury, with shame, and to my shock, my eyes sting.
I haven’t cried since I left Castle Falbirg.
I thought I left this girl behind. I made Marthe, thePrinzessin, thePfennigeist, all so I could outrun the ghost in the mirror.
Ragne jumps up on the bed as a cat, looks at me, and curls beside my knees without a word.
I belligerently stare at the bed’s velvet canopy until the tears burn themselves out.
I will beat this curse. I will keep out of Adalbrecht’s reach. I will outmaneuver Emeric Conrad and leave him, and Gisele, andall of thisbehind.
And I will do it . . . in the next thirteen days.
I don’t remember falling asleep.
It doesn’t take long for dreams to find me. Or for them to warp sinister: Eiswald turning me to limestone that crumbles with every labored step. Gisele pointing at me as rubies pour from her mouth. A golden wolf with Adalbrecht’s crystal-blue eyes and a crow in its jaws.
The wolf, however, lingers.
It snaps down on the crow in an explosion of feathers. Then it seizes on a winter-fat marmot. Blood like blue flame gushes from its teeth. Next a fox, a goat, a deer, an elk—
A flick of sharp pain darts over my arm, but I can’t move.
The wolf’s burning eyes turn to me. It lunges.
There’s a flurry of copper, silver, gold, and bone, a note like a resounding bell. I think I hear my name. But as my eyes fly open, it feels like I’m still trapped in dreams.
The low candlelight slices a ghoulish figure from the dark.
A withered, pale-skinned manlike creature is squatting on my chest, tying knots into my hair, sharp teeth bared in bliss. Its eyes smolder a cold sapphire blue.
I try to inhale and it comes out as a choking gag, my lungs screaming as they fight the creature’s weight. Ragne is hissing, claws swiping at the thing, but it barely seems to notice, rocking forward.
