“It wasn’t like daisies,” Alois muttered.
“It felt like I exploded out of the ground,” I add.
“You did,” Fritzi allows. “Sort of. I had to drive the airintothe barrow, and then pull it all out again at once.”
“What happened toyou?” Cornelia asks the guard leader. “Did you see the monsters?”
Brigitta shudders. “We all did.” She gestures to the Watch members. “Like horrible masks floating in the mists.”
“Not masks,” I say, remembering the spindly front legs of the running beast, the odd jaw and drooling tongue flapping about. “Full monsters.”
Brigitta shakes her head. “We saw only masks, driving us away from the barrow. And the mist was so thick, we could not see or hear everyone. It wasn’t until later that we realized you four were well and truly missing.”
“Why us?” Alois asks, looking at Cornelia. “The goddesses have chosen Fritzi—well, one did—and Otto’s hers, but why us?”
“Perchta is the goddess of tradition,” Fritzi says in a low voice. “She likes those who adhere to it.”
“Fine, you’re a priestess,” Alois allows, gesturing at Cornelia, “but I’m not exactly Perchta material.”
“You held your own,” Cornelia says. My eyes are raw from the dirt, but I think I see her blush.
“Maid, Mother, and Crone, can’t you see it?” Fritzi says, exhausted. “You two obviously work well together. You could be bonded.That’swhy Perchta allowed you to go into the barrow. She approves of the bonding tradition, and she’s—”
“Playing matchmaker?” Brigitta asks, gaping.
Fritzi shrugs but then casts a sly glance at Cornelia. My eyes are definitely not deceiving me; Cornelia and Alois are both bright red now.
“Well, that would explain things,” Brigitta mutters.
“No, it doesn’t!” Alois says too loudly.
“Oh, just admit you’ve been pining over her like a mooncalf.”
“I—but—” Alois sputters.
“Really?” Cornelia asks, turning to him, and Alois’s attempts at denial taper off into a mouselike squeak.
“Enough!” Brigitta bellows. “I want a report on what happenednow.”
“We need to regroup,” I say through a raspy voice. “But not here.”
“I’ll cover the basics,” Alois offers, and that, at least, satisfies Brigitta. Alois explains with shocking efficiency the basics of the events as we stumble away from the barrow, toward the horses that, somehow, are calmly grazing in the field below. This area feels too open and defenseless, though, and no one protests when I point to the plateau beyond the barrow, the location of the ancient city.
Nothing remains but a few broken walls and random street pavers, but the road up the cliff is accessible, and the trees provide cover. It’s a good location. I can see why the tribes met here, why it never fell to the Romans. I can tell the others like it too. They feel safer in the forest. Perhaps there’s still a bit of Perchta’s protection on this land.
When we reach a small clearing off the ancient road, with the stony remains of a low wall alongside, I suspect that we’ve actually entered the ruins of some barrack. Fitting, then, that Brigitta declares we’ll camp here tonight, with assurances that Cornelia, Alois, Fritzi, and I are to rest only, not participate in the watch.
Cornelia kneels by the fire as soon as it’s made, and even though it’s not particularly chilly, she stretches her hands to the flames.
Fritzi comes up behind me. “Sit,” she orders me. “People who get ripped out of ancient barrows using goddess-blessed elemental magic get to take a break.”
“You need to rest too,” I say, but I don’t protest when she pushes my shoulders down.
“I have something else to do,” Fritzi says, giving me a wink as she loops her arm in Alois’s to go for a “walk.” I don’t think Perchta is the only one matchmaking right now.
Cornelia shoots me a sardonic look. “Please don’t ask me about him,” she says in a low voice.
“I wasn’t going to.” I pause. “Actually, can I talk to you about the goddesses?”
