“All right, thank you. I see your point.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Lorraine stepped closer, all signs of mirth erased. “They are not human, and they have no sympathy for us mortals. Can’t you see that?”
Serilda gulped. “I don’t think he will kill me. He still wants gold from me, after all.”
Lorraine shook her head. “You seem to be playing a game for which you do not know all the rules. Heed my advice. If the king is not expecting you tonight, then take a room at the inn and stay put until morning. Otherwise you are risking your life for nothing.”
Serilda’s gaze swept toward the castle. “I do appreciate your concern.”
“But you’re not going to listen to me.”
Serilda pursed her lips apologetically.
“I have a daughter. You might be older, but I recognize that look all the same.” Lorraine stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Do not anger the Erlking. Not tonight. Everything must go perfectly.”
Serilda was startled by the vehemence in Lorraine’s tone. “What do you mean?”
Lorraine gestured toward the tables. “You think we do all this to be good neighbors?” She shook her head, a shadow eclipsing her eyes. “There was a time when our children would go missing, too. But our ancestors began tempting the hunt with this feast on the spring equinox, the gift of game to be hunted in our streets. We hoped to appease them, to gain their favor, so they would leave our city and our families alone.” Her face pinched with distress. “My heart aches, of course, for the loved ones who go missing from other towns, especially when I hear of innocent children being taken. I can only imagine the pain a parent would feel. But because of this feast, they are not taken from Adalheid, and I will not risk you interfering.”
“But you are still afraid,” said Serilda. “You might have found a way to make peace with the dark ones, but you are still afraid of them.”
“Of course I’m afraid of them! Everyone should be.Youshould be far more afraid of them than you seem to be.”
“Madam Mayor!”
Lorraine looked past Serilda’s shoulder, then straightened as the librarian, Frieda, hurried toward them with Leyna on her heels.
“They’re bringing out the god of death,” said Frieda. She paused with a smile at Serilda. “Hello again. Leyna told me you would be watching the spectacle with us. It’s terrifying, but … still a sight worth seeing.”
“With … us?” asked Lorraine.
Frieda flushed, but Leyna stepped forward with a wily grin. “I invited Frieda to stay at the inn tonight! It’s far too scary to be home alone during the Feast of Death.”
“If it isn’t any trouble …,” said Frieda.
“Oh! No, no trouble at all. I believe we have spare rooms available for you and for the young miss.” She glanced at Serilda. “If you are planning to stay, that is?”
“A room would be much appreciated, thank you.”
“Good. It’s decided, then.”
“We should hurry, shouldn’t we?” said Leyna. “It’s getting dark.”
“Indeed it is.” Lorraine started toward the castle bridge, where townspeople—many carrying lanterns as dusk claimed the city—had gathered around the tables and the leashed animals. Serilda lingered toward the back of their group. When Leyna noticed, she slowed her steps so that Serilda could catch up.
“Why is she mad at you?” Leyna whispered.
“I don’t think she’s mad, just worried,” Serilda answered. “I can’t say that I blame her.”
Ahead, a group of people carried what looked like a scarecrow painted up like a skeleton. Together, they attached it to a small plain boat waiting off the dock nearest the castle bridge, where Serilda had seen Leyna and her friends playing all those weeks before.
“We make effigies of the gods, too, in Märchenfeld,” she told Leyna. “So they can watch over the festival and give us their blessings.”
Leyna shot her a baffled look. “Blessings?”
She nodded. “We give them flowers and gifts. It isn’t the same here?”
With a cackle, Leyna gestured toward the skeletal figure. “We only make Velos, and we give it to the hunters, along with all the quarry. You saw the hares and the foxes?”