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Leyna didn’t entertain a smile. “You know, we’re always told to stay away from that bridge. Until you, I’d never once heard of anyone crossing over and coming out of it, well, alive.”
“You’ve heard of people coming out of it dead?”
“No. The dead ones just get trapped there.”
Serilda sipped at her cider. “Will you tell me more about the castle, and the hunt? If you don’t mind.”
Leyna thought for a moment. “The wild hunt emerges every full moon. And also on the equinoxes and the solstices. We lock our doors and windows and put wax in our ears so we won’t hear them calling to us.”
Serilda had to look away, her heart squeezing to remember how her father had insisted they do the same. Had he not put the wax in deep enough? Or had he clawed it out in his sleep? Perhaps it didn’t matter. Everything had gone wrong, and she didn’t know if it would ever be right again.
“Even though everyone says that the hunt will leave us alone,” Leyna continued. “They don’t take kids, or … anyone from Adalheid. Still, adults always get nervous around the full moons.”
“Why doesn’t the hunt take people from here?”
“Because of the Feast of Death.”
Serilda frowned. “The what?”
“The Feast of Death. On the spring equinox, the day when death is conquered at the end of winter, making way for new life. It’s coming up in just a few weeks.”
“Right. We have a festival in Märchenfeld, too, but we call it Eostrig’s Day.”
Leyna’s gaze turned haunted. “Well, I don’t know about Märchenfeld. But here in Adalheid, the spring equinox is the most terrifying night of the year. That’s when the ghosts and the dark ones and the hounds all leave the castle and come out into the city. We prepare a feast for them, and have animals for them to hunt. And they set up a big bonfire and make a lot of noise and it’s very frightening, but also sort of fun, because Ma and I usually end up reading books by the fire all night long, since we can’t really get any sleep.”
Serilda gaped at her, trying to picture it. A city willingly inviting the wild hunt to run rampant through their streets for a full night? “And because you prepare this celebration for them, they agree to not take anyone for the hunt?”
Leyna nodded. “We still have to put wax in our ears, though. In case the Erlking changes his mind, I suppose.”
“But why don’t you just leave? Why stay, so close to the Erlking’s castle?”
The girl’s brow furrowed, like this idea might never have occurred to her before. “This is our home.”
“Lots of places can be home.”
“I suppose. But Adalheid … well. There’s good fishing. Good farmland outside the walls. And we get lots of merchants and travelers passing through from Nordenburg, heading to the northern ports. The inn’s usually busy, especially once the weather warms. And …” She trailed off, looking like she wanted to say more, but knew that she shouldn’t. Serilda could see her debating with herself. But the look soon passed, and she seemed almost eager when she asked, “Have you actually met any of the ghosts in the castle? Are they all terrible?”
Serilda frowned at the change in topic. “I’ve met a few. The stable boy seemed nice enough, though I can’t say I actuallymethim. And there’s a coachman. He’s … surly. But he has a chisel stuck in his eye, and that would probably make me surly, too.”
Leyna made a disgusted face.
“And there’s a boy about my age. He’s actually been helping me. He’s a bit mischievous, but I can tell he has a good heart. He told me that he cares about the people in this town, even if he can’t meet any of you.”
Leyna, though, looked a little disappointed.
“What is it?” asked Serilda.
“Is that all? You haven’t met a fairy? Or a goblin? Or some magic creature that can—I don’t know—make … gold?” She almost squeaked this last word.
“Gold?” stammered Serilda.
Leyna grimaced and hastily waved her hands. “Never mind. That’s silly.”
“No! No, it isn’t. It’s just … this boy I mentioned. He can make gold. Out of straw. Out of … well, just about anything, I suppose. How did you know?”
Leyna’s expression shifted once again. No longer disappointed, she looked almost ecstatic as she reached forward and gripped Serilda’s hands. “Youhavemet him! But he’s a boy? Are you sure? I always pictured Vergoldetgeist as a helpful little hobgoblin. Or a kindhearted troll. Or—”
“Vergoldetgeist? What’s that?”
