Chapter Fifteen

“What’s good for the wretched, shit-smelling goose is good for the gander!” Perchta hid in the forest’s shadows a distance away from the castle. She held a long knife at the ready as a foul monster—its barrel again strapped to its back—trudged toward her.

“If you’d be so kind as to return my knives,” she said.

“First things first.” The beast picked the crossbow arrow from its forehead as if it were no more than a splinter and snapped it in half with one hand and then turned its back to the hag. “Take them.”

She lingered on her tiptoes to pluck the three throwing knives protruding from Krampus and then sheathed them in her boots.

Both of them stunk of fetid water and shit. The hag ripped the mucky fur cloak from her body and flung it into the woods. “I cannot fathom the cleaning bill on that one!” Her dress clung to her body and made wet sucking sounds when she moved.

“What about the rules?” Krampus said. “You went right for the castle’s entrance. That was out of bounds. I was perfectly justified knocking you in.”

“Are you serious? Rules?” Perchta tucked the long blade into her belt and wiped away the gunk that constantly trickled into her eyes. “I said that so you’d go around the side and give me a clear shot at the front.”

Krampus shook himself like a dog, sending Perchta for cover behind a tree. She reemerged once the splatters against the trunk stopped.

He paid no attention to her and focused on the castle, torchlight zooming back and forth along the wall walks. “They will be expecting me to jump again.” Krampus turned to the hag. “Or are you expecting them to lower the drawbridge anytime soon?”

She eyed him, tapping her foot, and then glanced away. “No. I’m stumped about how to get in there.”

Krampus again viewed the castle, looking at the outermost stone corner closest to him. “Hmmm. That might work.”

“What might work?” She strode right next to him and repeatedly poked his ribs, demanding an answer. “Every guard and knight left in that castle will be lining the upper walls. If you so much as poke your big ugly mug between the battlements, they’ll shoot or hack at it.”

He didn’t reply, but then his body flinched, not in fright, but in recognition of something so patently obvious that he was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him earlier.

“Are we even here for the same person?” Krampus said.

“What do you mean?”

The giant reached into a small pouch that he’d nailed to his barrel and pulled out a tied-up scroll that mercifully hadn’t been soaked with waste. He removed the twine and unrolled the parchment, looking for the desired spot. Finding it, he held open the scroll in both hands and shoved it in front of Perchta’s face.

“There, the name that’s not been scratched out—you see who I’m after?”

“It’s pitch-black out!”

“What? Oh, yeah. I forgot. Hold this.” He handed her the scroll. “Keep it open and wait right here.”

Krampus lumbered toward the castle, emerging from the darkness and onto a patch of clear, flat rock under moonlight. The torches held by guards scrambling along the walls began converging in one spot, facing Krampus. He grumbled, out of annoyance, and then roared to announce his arrival.

From the castle: “Fire!”

Dozens of flaming arrows flew from atop the wall, arching like little comets to rain on Krampus, who hopped and wove out of the paths of all but one that sizzled straight toward his head. Figuring its trajectory, he stepped aside and, at the precise moment, tilted his skull sideways.

Perchta from within the shadows grimaced when the arrow struck. Then she straightened herself, realizing why he had deliberately made himself a target. Krampus trundled back and plucked the flaming arrow from the base of his left horn and held the burning stick toward the scroll in Perchta’s hand.

“Now do you see who I’m after?”

She focused on the name that hadn’t been cut through in red. She squinted at the slashes.

“Is that?”

“Yes, blood,” he said, growing impatient. “Are we after the same person?”

“No. No, we’re not.” She handed the scroll back to Krampus and grew reflective, stroking her chin while watching the castle. “Then there was really no reason for us to fall into a lake of shit.”

“We probably should have discussed all of this beforehand.”

“I just assumed we wanted the same scummy urchin. I won’t get in your way if you won’t get in mine once we’re inside,” she said. “How do we get in there?”

Krampus slid off his barrel and plopped it in front of Perchta.

“What of it?” she said.

The monster pulled out a link of chain, bigger and heavier than the one he had used to slap her in the moat. The links kept coming.

“How can they all be in there?” she said.

He coiled the chain on the ground. “How did Jesus feed thousands of people with seven loaves of bread?”

She stayed quiet, and then said, “But why do you need so much?”

“To get into the castle.”

“How?” she said.

Deeming he had enough chain, he pulled the last link from the barrel and left it in a pile. He then stomped his hoof on the ground, hitting dirt. He continued until he struck solid rock, and made a satisfied noise. “Get your knives ready.”