Louis takes my hand and tugs me to his side, but he doesn’t provide any insight into what’s happening.
Everyone is weirdly silent, so I stay silent as well. My eyes find that ancient book sitting on the desk once more, and I feel the whisper of desire to touch it. I probably would give in if not for Louis’s grip on my hand. And when I glance around the room, I realize everyone else is looking at the book too. And there’s something strange in their gaze. Something almost hungry.
Chapter
Four
“Isee you’ve already noticed our most prized family heirloom,” Louis’s father says as he shuts the door behind him. He locks it, too, which sends alarm bells ringing in my head, but nobody else acts like it’s weird. “It’s the centerpiece of tonight’s festivities.”
I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. “Festivities? Oh, like an early Christmas tradition?” I ask, trying to keep the strain out of my voice. Something is strange here; the back of my neck won’t stop prickling.
“Tonight is a more important holiday than Christmas,” Louis’s father says.
I glance at my fiancé, but he’s either enraptured by the book or avoiding my gaze. “Louis didn’t mention we were celebrating anything in particular. Other than our engagement, I mean.”
“It’s a very private night for our family. We hardly ever invite outsiders to join us,” Louis’s father says, with an approving glance at Louis. Louis doesn’t hesitate to meethisgaze, expression brightening at his father’s attention. “It’s an old family tradition. It started back in Germany generationsago, and my grandfather brought it to the new world when he traveled here. It is called Krampusnacht.”
A nervous giggle bubbles out of me. “As in… Krampus? LikeKrampusKrampus?”
Louis squeezes my hand. I glance at him, expecting him to be sharing in the joke. But instead his jaw is set in a hard line, and he won’t look at me.
The laughter dies in my throat. I swallow with a dry click.
“Indeed,” Louis’s father continues, undeterred. “And Krampus is nothing to laugh about. The tales have been watered down over generations, but the truth is still in the heart of it. Krampus rewards those he deems worthy, and punishes those who are not.”
Despite the absurdity of all of this, goose bumps ripple across my skin. “Punishes them how?”
Louis’s father displays his too-white teeth, but it’s hard to call the expression a smile. “That depends. For minor misbehavior, he might whip them with a birch branch. For those who have seriously trespassed…” He pauses, letting a meaningful silence stretch out. The rest of the family is silent, waiting, and I lean forward slightly in anticipation. “Some, he drags straight to Hell itself, to torture and devour.”
I shudder, leaning back in my chair again. “I think I prefer the cookies and gifts version of Christmas,” I joke weakly.
Louis’s father regards me coolly. “As I said, it is tradition. And tradition is important to my family, enough so that we brought it across the sea with us. Now that you are to become one of us, we have brought you here to join us in the way the Kohlers have spent Krampusnacht for generations.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well…”
Louis squeezes my hand again in what I now recognize as a warning. I snatch my fingers away. But despite my annoyancethat he didn’t warn me about what was happening on this trip, I don’t see any way to back out now. I’m already here.
So I force a smile. “Of course, I would be honored. How are we celebrating?”
His lips twist slightly at the wordcelebrating, as though I’ve said something foolish, but he gives me a nod of approval. “A game,” he says.
“Oh, good,” I say. “I love games.”
“Competitive, are you?”
“I can be,” I say, glancing at Louis.
Louis looks more relaxed now, and the look he shoots back is almost playful. “Shedefinitelycan be.”
“I’m excited to see how you fare, then,” Louis’s father says, crossing the room.
“It’s a competition, then?” I perk up, watching him. “What are we playing?”
Louis’s father reaches his desk. He pulls out an old-fashioned-looking metal key from a chain around his neck, previously hidden under his shirt. Bending down, he uses it to unlock something beneath his desk and pulls out a parcel wrapped in some kind of cloth.
“You can think of it like hide-and-seek,” he says. He sets the parcel delicately, almost reverently, on his desk, and very carefully unwraps it. It’s an old-fashioned fountain pen, made of dark wood and shimmering gold. “We will spend the night hiding from Krampus. Those who successfully evade him will receive a generous gift.”
I shoot Louis a mischievous grin. He studies me in return, surprisingly somber. “And what happens if we’re caught?” I ask, nudging him.
