Chapter Twenty-Four

A few days later.

The three of them spread a large piece of parchment across a flat stone that served as a table within a torchlit cave rarely seen by human eyes.

When one finished scouring the immaculately penned document, the reader gave a small, greasy candle to the next participant in line. And the process repeated itself twice more, leaving the contract checkered with wax droplets.

“Is everything in order?” the old man said.

“Yes, master.”

“Frau Perchta, are the terms to your liking?”

“Bavaria’s mine except on December fifth, and on occasion December sixth, and if your hairy underling can’t finish the job on either of those days, he waits until next year and doesn’t rear his ugly head until the next December fifth. No exceptions. Is that what I’m reading?”

“Correct, and what will you do?” the old man said.

“If whichever miscreant your goon was after manages to elude him on December fifth or sixth, he’ll let me know who—and if that same miscreant is on my list, I leave the wretch for Krampus to catch the next December.”

“Splendid.”

“And what if I cannot get one of my marks in January, and I provide you the name and that kid is on Krampus’s list the following December?” she said. “Does Krampus leave that brat for me?”

The old man pointed at the contract. “Go to section B, subsection D—third paragraph.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes!” Perchta pored over the document, mumbling words as she read them, and then out loud: “It is left to the sole discretion of Saint Nicholas whether Krampus may pursue one of Perchta’s failed attempts from the previous season, seeing that Perchta has twelve days to mete out punishment or reward, and Krampus only has, at most, two days.” She smirked, tapping her foot, ruminating over the terms. “Wait, why is it up to you?”

“The child who eluded you could redeem himself or herself the following year, and in such a case, the child might be on my list for reward. And I imagine if that is the case, you would consider slipping the child a coin. Am I right?”

“Well, that rarely ever happens,” she said. “Once bad, usually always bad.”

“There are exceptions,” the monster said.

“Nobody asked you!” She threw up her hands. “Okay, fine. Where do I sign?”

Krampus pushed her out of the way, pricked the pad of its forefinger with its thumbnail and scratched its name in blood across one of three blank lines.

“I have a pen.” The old man held up a quill feather.

“I’ve got work to do.” The monster pointed to a gagged, roped young man quivering in the cave’s corner.

Perchta grinned. “I’ll take the pen, thank you.” She watched Heinrich shake as she wrote her name.

The old man scribbled last and then rolled up the parchment and tucked it under his red robe. “Now then, do you need an escort out, Frau Perchta?”

“I can find my own way.” She fiendishly smiled at Heinrich and turned to Krampus. “Can I watch?”

The monster, not looking at her, slipped its ruten from the barrel on its back. “This is between me and him. And I will not begin until you leave.”

The old man gripped a long crosier and held out his hand. “Come, Frau Perchta, I shall accompany you.”

She grunted. “Fine. Maybe on the way out you can explain to me how you came across that big lummox. Was it like finding an abandoned puppy?”

The old man chuckled. “Not exactly, and I prefer to keep some things secret. Otherwise every saint would want one.”

She shook her head and walked beside the old man through a dark tunnel.

“Perchta.” The monster’s voice reverberated around the walls.

She ducked back into the cave. “Yes?”

“I like you.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” She waited for it to reply, but Krampus stayed focused on Heinrich, who’d closed his eyes and seemed to be praying. “Thank you. I suppose. And I agree with Beate. Do not kill him.”

Krampus looked at her. “Do you think it is okay if I eat some of him?”

Heinrich’s eyes bugged out and darted back and forth from the monster to Perchta, who tilted her head, expressing Really?.

Unseen by Heinrich, Krampus gave her a quick wink.

“Oh, well if that’s the case, his legs look scrumptious.” She cackled and left to catch up with the saint.