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Finally, after an age and a year had seemingly passed, the sunset lit the horizon on fire. Indigo blue stretched across the sky. The first stars winked down upon the village of Märchenfeld. Night descended.
The Awakening Moon shone bright overhead, called such because the world was finally growing lush with life once more.
Except for her. Obviously. She was dead or dying or something in between.
Hours passed. The moon painted the river with streaks of silver. It alighted on the tree boughs and kissed the slumbering mill. The frogs began their concert. A colony of bats, invisible against the black sky, squeaked overhead. An owl cooed from a nearby oak.
She tried to guess at the time. She kept yawning, but that seemed to be mostly out of habit. She was not really sleepy, but she couldn’t tell if that was merely because of her nerves keeping her awake, or if wandering spirits had no need of rest.
The night must be half through, she thought. Halfway until morning. Soon, the Awakening Moon would be over.
What if the hunt didn’t come tonight?
Was it enough that the nachtkrapp had witnessed her demise? Would that convince the Erlking that he had lost her forever?
Would it keep him from ever looking for her again?
Though she thought she should be growing more confident as time ticked on, she felt the opposite. Anxiety clutched at her. If this didn’t work, then by morning, nothing would be changed.
And if the hunt didn’t come, how would she know whether or not this had—
A howl crept across the fields.
Serilda stilled. The owl, the bats, the frogs all fell silent.
She hurried to the hiding place she’d decided on while the sun was still high, climbing up into the boughs of the oak tree. She did not know if the Erlking would be able to see her, and Madam Sauer had not known, either. But collector of souls that he was, she dared not risk it.
It would have been a difficult climb, made more so by the fact that she could not let go of the ash branch even for a second. But her spirit form was almost weightless and she no longer had to worry about scrapes or bruises or falling to her death. Soon she was tucked into the branches, lush with leaves.
Once settled, she did not have long to wait. The howls grew closer, soon joined by the cacophony of hooves. This was no aimless search for prey.
They were coming for her.
She spotted the hounds first, their bodies alight with embers. They must have been able to track her scent, for they did not hesitate at the cottage, but raced straight toward the riverbank and Serilda’s lifeless body lying in the mud. The hounds formed a ring around the figure, growling and pawing at the ground, but none of them touched her.
The Erlking and his hunters arrived moments later. The horses halted.
Serilda held her breath—needlessly, as there was no breath to hold. Her fingers grasped the limb of the ash tree.
The Erlking nudged his steed closer, so that he was looking down upon Serilda’s body. She wished she could read his expression, but his face was turned toward the ground, his curtain of black hair hiding what little she might have seen.
The moment drew out. She could sense the hunters growing restless.
Finally, the king dismounted his horse and knelt over the body. Serilda craned her neck, but she could not see what he was doing. She thought he might have picked up the empty vial. Perhaps he traced her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He might have put something into her palm.
Then he rejoined the hunt. With a single wave of his arm, they disappeared back into the night.
Afraid that they would return, Serilda stayed in the oak tree while the howls faded away. As the first hints of light emerged in the east, she finally made her way back to the ground. She approached her body with both curiosity and dread.
Watching herself die had been strange, but seeing herselfdeadseemed like a different matter entirely.
But it was not her colorless skin or utter stillness that she took notice of first.
It was the gift that the Erlking had left behind.
In her corpse’s hand was one of the king’s arrows, tipped with shining gold.
Chapter 49
