Read the book: «Coolness»

© Erick Poladov, 2026

ISBN 978-5-0065-0478-3

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Prologue

Few people in the village lived past their seventh decade. Friedrich was the first person to do so in the last half century. He was sixty-two, sitting on the porch of a barn on a clear autumn day, with a dozen and a half children crowded around him — the oldest of whom was not yet twelve. They asked him only one question: “Why work so hard, only to throw away huge reserves of harvest that could feed the entire village for a month?”

Studying the children’s curious eyes, Friedrich began:

— I will tell you, but I hope you hear this story only from me, and that you never have to witness anything like it. I was thirteen then. I heard this legend… Or rather, it seemed like a legend, because everyone spoke of it all the time, and adults mentioned it with grave expressions, but nothing like that ever actually happened. My peers and I never saw any evidence that Nix existed.

— Nix? — nine-year-old Penelope repeated, questioningly.

— Yes, darling. That is the name of the evil spirit. He controls the element of frost, and the souls of the dead obey him. He appears every year on the first full moon after the first snow. As soon as the first snow falls, the entire village collects a hundred bags of ripe fruit, loads them into carts, and takes them deep into the woods on a cold, frosty night, as far as possible, so as not to let Nix get close to the village. This is how the evil spirit receives an offering, in return for which he does not plague the residents of our village.

— What if he doesn’t receive the offering? — Penelope pressed.

After these words, tears welled up in Friedrich’s eyes, as he recalled the events he had witnessed in his youth. He tried to find the strength to continue the story, a lone tear tracing a path down his left cheek.

1. Borrowed Warmth

Summer was always short in these parts, and while the warm days lasted, they hurried to lie down among the tall grass near the riverbank in the sun, where no one would disturb them. Erikson was twenty years old, and he had already laid out his plans for life. The following spring, he and Penelope decided to get married. In the meantime, he could not take his eyes off those blue eyes, her straight chestnut hair, and her full lips. Erikson often called her Squirrel because the local forest had squirrels the same color as Penelope’s hair; in the entire village, only her mother and sister shared that color. She was a year younger, but slightly taller than Erikson.

He pressed his lips to hers again and kissed her, feeling the sun warm the skin on Penelope’s face. She reached out to return the kiss, then rolled onto her side and, propping her head up with her hand, said:

— Maybe we can go to the lake tomorrow?

Erikson sighed with annoyance and replied:

— No, Squirrel. I’m afraid not. Tomorrow is our shift.

Penelope was not upset at all.

— Well, no big deal. My father seems to be working for several days in a row. I’ll go with him tomorrow. — Then Penelope leaned in close to Erikson’s face and almost whispered: — So you won’t get away from me anyway.

Erikson abruptly pressed his lips to the girl’s neck and, feigning an animal bite, laid her on her back. Penelope screamed, choking back her laughter, and Erikson, playfully pressing his teeth to Squirrel’s neck, once again felt the girl’s skin warm beneath the sun’s rays. He continued to hold Penelope’s wrists pinned, stopping her from resisting, and kept devouring her neck with his lips, moving as low as her dress allowed. Squirrel shook her head and pressed her chin to her chest, but it was all useless. Erikson found vulnerable spots and pressed his lips there lightly, then let Penelope feel the edges of his teeth. As soon as he left her neck alone, Penelope abruptly stopped screaming. Now muffled laughter escaped her lips, giving way to a joyful smile. The sunbeams falling directly on her eyes prevented her from clearly making out Erikson’s face. He couldn’t get enough of her full lips for a few more moments; then he pressed his own to hers and began to slide across them.

Meanwhile, Andreas, Erikson’s father, had finished carving a wooden boat for his youngest son. They were walking along the bank near the field, where the boy launched the boat. The water level in the river had dropped noticeably over the summer, the current was weak, and the boat was not moving as fast as seven-year-old Willie wanted. Noticing the boat’s sluggish movement, he looked at his father and said:

— I wish winter would come soon.

Willie’s favorite pastime was sledding. Back in the spring, when a board on the old sled cracked, Andreas promised Willie he would make him a new one before autumn. But once it became clear that the drought would require working in the fields twice as much as usual, very little time was left for other things. However, Andreas was determined to keep his promise, as this was the only way he could persuade the youngest of his three sons to be patient until winter, when the first snow would fall and cover the hill, making it ready for the village children to rush down.

Meanwhile, the work in the field was in full swing. The rains did not come, and the river level continued to drop. Once again, forty-three-year-old Karl filled the buckets and was about to head toward the crops, when Wilhelm, who was eight years his junior, approached him and said:

— Go on, take a rest. I’ll take over for you.

Despite the fact that Karl did not say a word — which was typical for him — he was nevertheless glad to see Wilhelm. The third day in a row was taking its toll on his body, and Karl already doubted that he would be able to return to the field tomorrow.

The villagers sowed, weeded the soil, and watered the crops together. It was a single common field, the harvest from which was similarly stored in a common barn, and from there, everyone took provisions when necessary. Individually, the villagers kept only chickens and horses, as livestock was also raised through common effort. Nix was the reason for all this. To appease him, the offering had to be presented by the entire village, and so, to ensure no one had to give more or less than another, the residents worked together on the common field, selecting the most suitable soil for sowing.

His legs were already weak, and he was not able to carry water for another day. But Karl was truly sorry that he would not be able to work in the field tomorrow. In the village, everyone was taught from childhood that they had to work like the devil if necessary, and try to collect as much of the harvest as possible. Now, for Karl, this was a true commandment. However, only a few like him remained among the villagers. As generations passed, practicality and cold calculation prevailed. Karl always wanted a son, but God blessed him with two daughters. Having suffered a terrible fever after her second birth, Regina was unable to conceive a third time. Karl was not destined to father a boy, but he tried to raise his daughters to accept a man’s will as unquestionable. Even in his relationship with Regina, he began to behave more harshly so that their daughters would internalize this kind of relationship between a man and a woman as the only acceptable norm.

Meanwhile, Karl’s thoughts were preoccupied with how hard things would be for the entire village. He was worried about the lack of rain and how meager the harvest would be this year. And the sun was too warm this year.

2. Sweetness of Dusk

Dusk had settled. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and Erikson and Penelope were walking back to the village along a forest path. Penelope folded her arms across her chest, feeling the cold begin to creep in. They walked in silence until Erikson spoke:

— Hey, Squirrel!

Penelope looked at him and said:

— What?

Erikson pointed his index finger forward and said:

— I said look, squirrel!

Penelope glanced ahead and saw a squirrel dart past, then nudged Erikson in the shoulder and said:

— Oh, you!

Suddenly, a crack sounded. Something flashed behind the trees.

They slowed abruptly, stopping completely. Penelope stepped to the side, hiding behind Erikson and peering out over his shoulder.

The figure flashed through the trees once more. A continuous series of sounds — of breaking branches and rustling leaves — followed.

— Who’s there? — Erikson asked in a half-whisper, a tremor in his voice.

The unknown figure began to move in their direction, and then a voice rang out:

— What are you two doing out so late?

Ludwig stepped onto the path. He looked to be about twenty-five, though he was actually only sixteen. From an early age, the young man had been large for his years. He was three years Penelope’s junior and four years Erikson’s, yet he stood a head taller than both, with broad shoulders and impressively sized hands.

Hearing the familiar voice, Erikson and Penelope breathed a sigh of relief. The autumn before last, they had stumbled upon two wolves in these parts, but they were lucky then because Andreas had been with them, and he carried a double-barreled shotgun. Predators were almost never encountered in this part of the forest, where the path to the lake, river, and fields ran. They mostly lived on the side opposite the village; if someone went hunting, they had to cover a huge distance to find a wolf or a bear among the hares, deer, and wild boars.

— If you sneak up on me like that all the time, I’ll definitely stop walking out here after dark — Erikson replied.

— Oh, come on — Ludwig said soothingly. He held the strap of the rifle slung over his shoulder with his left hand, and in the other, he carried a sack, which he immediately opened. — It’s good that I ran into you, by the way. — He reached into the sack and pulled out a shot hare, which he extended to Erikson. — Here. I hope this smooths over our little misunderstanding.

— Oh! Now this I thank you for — Erikson said in a satisfied tone.

— And for you, beautiful — Ludwig said to Penelope, handing her the second hare. — Its skin will make a fine hat for the winter.

In response, Penelope kissed Ludwig on his cheek.

— I don’t understand — Erikson protested, feigning offense. — Are you trying to steal my girl?

Before Ludwig could respond, Penelope cut in:

— The day you learn to hunt, I’ll kiss you a thousand times.

Despite Ludwig’s menacing size, the young man had a good heart, which everyone knew well. He had spent half the day hunting, shot four hares, and easily parted with half his catch, making him a little happier in that moment. If a soul could be given size and viewed, then Ludwig’s would be as massive as he was. Greed and selfishness were alien to him. The only thing he was ever stingy about was the ammunition for his rifle, which he tried not to squander while shooting.

The three of them continued walking towards the village.

Just as they emerged from the forest, they saw ten-year-old Ursula running toward them. Before she even reached Penelope, she began to shout:

— Dad said to tell you… — but the sight of the hare’s carcass in her older sister’s hand interrupted Ursula’s speech: — Ohhh…

Ursula had instantly forgotten the important message she was supposed to deliver, but Penelope already understood what Ursula had meant. At such a late hour, the only thing their father could be ordering was for them to hurry home and stop wandering God knows where.

— Okay, — Penelope said, turning back toward the boys after taking a couple of steps forward. — See you tomorrow. — Then she addressed Ludwig personally: — Thanks again, Breadwinner. — With that, Penelope quickened her pace, taking Ursula’s hand.

When Penelope was already a good distance away, Erikson spoke, not without sarcasm:

— She called you a Breadwinner. You’ll definitely steal my girl soon.

— What do I have to do with it?

— Even though she doesn’t call me that. Now I’m starting to think she doesn’t consider me a man.

— Ah, come on. We can go for a bear tomorrow, and then tell her you shot it.

Erikson slapped his palm on Ludwig’s huge shoulder, then they laughed and continued on their way.

On the outskirts of the village, Penelope and Ursula met eight-year-old Wanda. She was carrying a basket full of wild strawberries that was almost as big as she was.

She ran to meet them, and Penelope immediately asked:

— Hey, what are you doing out here so late?

— Mom knows. I just stayed out a little late.

Penelope glanced around the evening gloom and said:

— A little?

Still, Penelope perfectly understood the girl; at that age, she herself had run anywhere that was more interesting than her own yard and had likewise been in no particular hurry to return home.

— Help yourselves — Wanda said, holding out the basket.

Ursula took a couple of berries from the heaped top, while Penelope ran her fingers over the wild strawberries, estimating the quantity by touch in the semi-darkness, before she asked:

— How much time did you spend gathering all this?

— I just pick fast. — Wanda giggled for a moment, then added: — And I also know all the secret spots.

— Come on, confess! — Penelope threatened playfully, pinching the tip of Wanda’s nose with her fingers. The girl laughed. — I’m stealing just one — Penelope added, taking a berry from the basket.

— Take more — Wanda urged.

— Well, since you insist…

Penelope put a couple more berries in her mouth, then hurried the girls on their way home.

As they approached the house, Penelope handed the hare’s carcass to Ursula and said:

— Go on inside. Tell them I’ll be right there; I just need to walk Wanda home.

Ursula ran toward the house, clutching the hare’s carcass to herself — a carcass that seemed almost bigger than she was.

Meanwhile, Penelope continued down the street, and Wanda continued to share her wild strawberries.

Noticing Penelope pass by, seventeen-year-old Ian, their neighbor, hid behind the trunk of an apple tree, unable to take his eyes off her even in the dim light. Since childhood, he had been unable to stop admiring her. In his innermost dreams, he envisioned their future life together, where she would bear his children and share his bed every night. Ian’s mind was reluctant to return to reality, though in truth, it never returned entirely. A part of him already literally lived apart from his body — where he held the neighbor’s girl and walked with her under the moon. Penelope herself never engaged in long conversations with her neighbor. She always greeted him, like everyone else, and sometimes even asked how he was doing. Ian felt that when she asked about his day, he was being given a perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with the beauty and take the first step toward making his fantasies at least a little bit closer to reality. But Penelope only asked about his day out of politeness — when she was tired of simply saying “hello” every day and wanted to say something new. But every time, Ian froze when the beautiful girl asked about his day. He was overcome with trembling, his thoughts confused, and he could only utter “fine” or “okay”. After those replies, Penelope walked on, and Ian felt ready to hang himself because she left so soon. He painfully felt every inch the chasm separating him from his dream widened. And now he watched the distance between them grow, as Penelope’s silhouette became less and less distinct in the twilight.

— Ian! — barked his father, Martin.

The boy started in surprise.

— Get inside.

He started toward the porch, continuing to glance back every few feet, though Penelope’s silhouette had already dissolved into the gloom.

At that very moment, Wilhelm was approaching the house, returning from the barn. He noticed two approaching figures, recognizing his youngest daughter in one of them.

Seeing her father, Wanda quickened her pace and ran, calling out as she went:

— Dad, look! — Wanda held out the basket, beaming over the quantity of berries she had managed to collect.

Wilhelm squatted down, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and said with feeling:

— Wow! Admit it, who did you steal these from?

— Hey! — Wanda huffed. — I’m not a thief.

A smile flickered across Wilhelm’s face. He kissed Wanda again and hurried her inside.

— Thank you — he said to Penelope.

— Hi, Penelope! — Ava called from the doorway, hugging Wanda. — Will you come in? We’re having fried chicken and pheasant.

— Thanks, but maybe some other time. I have to go; they’re already waiting for me.

3. Lead Eyelids, Steel Hands

— When I say it’s time to go home, it means you have to go home. Straight home — Karl scolded his eldest daughter in a low but menacing tone.

— I was walking Wanda home. She…

— I DON’T CARE! — Karl shouted at the top of his lungs, slamming his palm on the table. His shout was so loud that Regina, sitting nearby, and Ursula, at the far end of the table, flinched. Penelope, standing right next to her father with her eyes fixed on the floor, barely flinched. — It’s enough for me that I have to work in the fields like a dog every day! Enough!

Penelope continued to stand, her eyes fixed on the floor. Regina and Ursula tensed, their hearts pounding in the moments of Karl’s wrath.

— Sit! — Karl ordered.

Penelope quietly went to the plate that stood to her father’s left, across from Regina, and sat, maintaining a guilt-ridden appearance. Her eyes were difficult to see, even in the light of the oil lamp on the table, as strands of hair partially covered her face, and so Karl missed her almost peaceful gaze.

— When we finish, you’ll clear and wash all the dishes. — Karl then looked at Regina: — And you, straight to bed. — With a tired sigh, Karl concluded: — Let’s eat.

Penelope only reached for her spoon after everyone else had started eating, ensuring her father wouldn’t think she was sitting down to dinner as if nothing had happened, uncaring of his disciplinary shouts.

Karl did not often vent such displeasure toward his eldest daughter. It typically stemmed from accumulated exhaustion, and as Penelope matured, both physically and emotionally, she began to notice and understand the root cause of her father’s sudden rage. Consequently (whether from habit or the developing patience of a young woman), she no longer took such outbursts of indignation to heart. Penelope admitted she gave more reason for his displeasure than anyone else in the house. She was far from puritanical manners and behaved too freely to be called the modest girl Karl desired. She was not a shrinking violet; she effortlessly connected with everyone, readily engaged in conversation, loved to chat, smiled, and laughed. Crucially, she went on dates, having decided on her own fiancé rather than waiting for her father to choose for her. She understood that her father needed to find someone to vent on and relieve his tension in those moments. She didn’t complain that he always chose her as a target, since she would have disliked it even more if he had addressed her mother or sister in the same manner. Furthermore, as Regina had told her since childhood, Karl had always dreamed of a firstborn son, and Penelope, by her mere existence, reminded her father every day that she was the one who had stolen that dream by being born. Karl understood that no one was to blame, and Penelope knew she was not at fault. Yet everyone also understood that people bury their dreams very reluctantly, and sometimes a lifetime isn’t enough to accept the will of fate.

Regina, unlike her husband, did not try to impose any qualities on her daughter, nor did she harbor any specific expectations. Penelope helped her with the housework; she never objected to the tasks Regina assigned and was very quick in her work. She had willingly helped when Ursula was small, babysitting her sister from morning till night. To Regina, her eldest daughter had grown into a capable girl — hard-working, silver-tongued, and without bad habits. She desired nothing more. Whenever Penelope wanted to slip out but knew her father would object, she would ask her mother for permission. Regina would always agree to cover for her, telling Karl she had sent their daughter on an errand that would take nearly half a day to complete.

While Penelope walked home, having politely declined the dinner invitation, Ava hurried to the girls, who were desperate to pounce on Wanda’s wild strawberries. Wanda set the basket down on the floor to show off to her sisters, who instantly swarmed it with wide eyes and excited cries. Ava immediately rushed to tear her daughters away from the berries:

— Now, quickly wash your hands and get to the table.

— Oh, Mom! — Irma, the thirteen-year-old eldest, pleaded in an indignant, yet imploring tone.

— Quickly, I said — Ava repeated in a firmer tone, taking the basket of berries. — You’ll ruin your appetite. We’ll have dinner, and then you can gorge on the wild strawberries.

The second oldest was eleven-year-old Astrid, followed by ten-year-old Frida, and finally, Wanda, the youngest. All four ran to the basin to quickly wet their hands; no one planned to fuss over washing, eager to swallow a couple of small bites at dinner just to tick off the box and move on to the wild strawberries. Meanwhile, Ava hid the basket of berries away from her daughters’ sight. At the mere sight of them, she herself felt a fierce craving for at least a few berries. More accurately, it was the child in her womb that wanted them. She was thirty-two and still desperately wanted to give Wilhelm a son. Whenever she brought this up with Wilhelm, he always replied that he was perfectly happy, being the only man in the entire village who lived in a “garden of five women”. He came up behind her, wrapped his arms tightly around her, cupped her stomach with his palms, and pressed his nose into Ava’s neck. Taking a deep breath, he murmured:

— How about YOU become my dinner tonight? You smell much better than this pheasant.

Ava was smiling, but it was more from the tickling sensation of Wilhelm’s nose on her neck than from his words. She barely managed to suppress a laugh, whispering:

— Alright, stop. Let’s sit down already. You can devour me in bed. I’ll be your dessert.

Wilhelm jutted out his chin. Ava turned her face toward him, kissed him on the lips, and added:

— Okay, let’s go.

— Boys! Time for dinner! — Charlotte called out loudly so that each of the four men in their family would hear her.

Willie was already at the table, his chin pressed against the tabletop. A grimace of boredom still clung to his face. He longed for winter to arrive, and his boat no longer held any interest for him.

Just as Charlotte placed a dish of vegetable stew in the center of the table, the middle brother, fifteen-year-old Morten, approached. Erikson followed, and then Andreas. Before taking his seat at the head of the table, he stroked his fingers through the hair of his youngest son, who was inwardly consumed by melancholy.

Everyone embarked on the final task of the day — emptying the food stores.

— I saw Penelope — Charlotte began, serving herself a porridge of rice, nuts, and beans. — She was returning without you. Did you two quarrel?

— No. Ursula just came running and said her father ordered her to haul butt home.

— Couldn’t you have hauled butt faster and walked the girls home? — Charlotte countered indignantly.

— We ran into Ludwig. He gave us a hare, and out of the deepest respect for him, I simply couldn’t leave him alone, thereby offering him a personal insult. So I decided to keep him company.

— Yes, — Charlotte replied with a hint of sarcasm, — Penelope will certainly get a fine husband.

— Leave it — Andreas said calmly to his wife. — Penelope is a modern girl. There’s little that scares her.

— See? — Erikson interjected in a satisfied voice.

— But the fact that our son grew up without good manners… — Andreas added, looking at Erikson. The father’s words caused a smirk to appear on Morten’s face, who sat across from his older brother.

— Stop worrying, both of you, — Erikson said casually. — If something were wrong, she’d tell me everything she thought of me to my face. Since she hasn’t complained, it means I’m not a man to her, but a dream. So everything’s fine. — Erikson then looked at his youngest brother: — Willie, pass the cheese.

— Did you hear that, Charlotte? — Andreas asked pompously. — We raised not a son, but the ultimate dream. — He then looked at Erikson: — Be careful not to overdo it, or your girlfriend might find herself a new dream.

— Exactly — Morten suddenly spoke up. — I, for one, am free.

Andreas pointed his spoon at his middle son and said:

— Well, you’ve already overdone it.

Erikson said in a completely nonchalant tone:

— Dad, pay no attention. What is he even capable of? Giving a woman a bouquet of dill?

— Willie, why aren’t you eating? — Andreas asked in an encouraging voice. — Come on, go on. We’ll start making sleds in a couple of days.

At the mention of the sleds, Willie lifted his head and reached for the plate of porridge.

— Let me help you — Charlotte said, filling Willie’s plate. She then took the dish and went to the pot to serve a new batch.

Ian entered the house, where the table was already set and everyone was waiting for him. His mind was still entirely occupied with Penelope, so he didn’t immediately hear his father’s question about washing his hands.

Martin was far from blind and knew exactly what his eldest son was constantly obsessing over. He was irritated by Ian staring at the neighbor’s girl as if he planned to ask her on a date any minute. Though Martin never said it openly, he sometimes held the girl responsible for his son becoming so detached from reality. He no longer tried to condemn the boy for his daydreams — not because he was trying to avoid scolding his son on every occasion, but because he simply saw no more point. Such was Ian’s character: he often immersed himself in his dreams, ready to remain stuck there for life. His two younger children, Kolinda, who was only a year Ian’s junior, and Klaus, who was three years younger, experienced the same strict approach to upbringing from their father. Martin firmly believed that a man should not simply manage a family, but suppress all dissent and liberties. He desperately wanted to forge a real man out of his eldest son, but for the last couple of years, Martin had realized he was unlikely to succeed. No matter how hard he pushed, Ian could not transform from a soft, peace-loving teenager into the stern man Martin envisioned — a man ready to establish his own laws in the house and command others. This approach also failed with Klaus, who didn’t understand what his father wanted from him and simply took his older brother as an example. He didn’t daydream, but he also showed no sign of the strength of character Martin desired. Kolinda was, perhaps, the only one of the three children who became what Martin wanted: an obedient girl who unquestioningly fulfilled any requirement, resigned to her role as a woman who did not even attempt to consider alternatives for a different life. In regard to his daughter, however, it was Magdalena who had largely succeeded. If the children feared Martin, they sincerely loved Magdalena, feeling her mother’s warmth and love. She was a year younger than Martin, but his complete opposite. It was largely thanks to Magdalena that their children avoided the kind of upbringing common in an army barracks. Although she was a faithful and docile wife who fully accepted her husband’s will, she always consciously sought to smooth over the emotional roughness left by the harsh and demanding hand of their father.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner in their house were always the same: not a single word was spoken at the table. This is why meals in this family took such a short time that, if they wished, they would still have had time to run to the other families in the village and help polish off their dinners.

4. Between Wine and the Abyss

The harvest was almost completely gathered. Only a few more days of hard work remained before they could start the winter sowing. Everything was going as planned.

It was the time when the village elders — the heads of the families — had a tradition of gathering in the barn late in the evenings after supper to play “Tower,” dice, and drink wine.

The barn served as a communal storage for the entire village, where any resident could go at any time for necessary provisions. The barn measured twenty by fifteen meters. The floor was covered with boards, beneath which wooden beams provided support. A cellar, spanning the barn’s entire footprint, was located beneath the floor. Under the roof was a rectangular attic. The attic’s floor was designed to extend five meters inward from the outer walls, leaving an empty space in the middle. This central void made it possible to position a ladder and climb up from any point on the ground floor. A stove stood in the center of the barn and was lit when severe frosts began. For this reason, someone was inside around the clock to ensure the fire in the stove did not go out. To this end, the elders and some of their sons took turns guarding the fire to prevent the provisions from freezing.

In addition to the barn, this part of the village also housed livestock pens for pigs, cows, sheep, rabbits, and goats.

That evening, the full company was present. It was already dark outside, and loud laughter filled the barn.

— Who’s next? — Thomas asked cheerfully after winning the game of “Tower” against Karl.

The principle of the game was quite simple: Sixty elongated, six-sided wooden blocks are stacked three high, with players alternating the direction of the blocks in each new row. The players then begin to pull out a single block in turn. The game continues until the structure collapses when a player attempts to pull out a block. Thomas was on a roll that evening. He had defeated Wilhelm and Martin before facing Karl. Now Andreas sat opposite him.

— Now I’ll show you — he said menacingly to Thomas, starting to stack the blocks.

— Yeah, right — Thomas answered sarcastically. — You can tell those stories to someone else. But only after I bring you back down to earth.

— You certainly taught your boy to hunt well — Andreas suddenly said in a restrained tone. — By the way, tell him thanks for the hare.

— It was nothing. It would be better if we went shooting sometime — Thomas replied in the same calm voice, finishing stacking the blocks.

— Yes, we should do that sometime.

Suddenly, Andreas turned around and said:

— Hey, Herman, come join us.

— Why not? — Herman replied, wiping the wine from his lips with his sleeve. He sat down alongside them, and the game began.

At the adjacent table sat Karl, Wilhelm, Martin, Gustav, and his two sons — Ragnar and Henry — each of whom was married with children. Some were playing dice, others were keeping the wine flowing, and a few were simply making conversation.

Andreas lost at “Tower” and joined the adjacent table, where they were playing dice. He picked up a bottle and offered Karl a wine top-up. Karl handed him the glass, but, true to habit, he said nothing where anyone else would normally say “thank you,” “I appreciate it,” or “don’t bother In general, Andreas never desired to befriend Karl or establish close communication with him. He fundamentally disagreed with the worldview that defined Karl. Andreas considered Karl’s habits and manners too outdated, harsh, and at times, utterly reckless. To him, Karl was a man who lacked his own mind and blindly adhered to the laws inherited from his ancestors. Despite having no sympathy for Karl, he still tried to be patient and occasionally engage him in even the most trivial conversation. Andreas understood that this was necessary if he wanted his son to marry Karl’s daughter. He liked Penelope and fully approved of his son’s choice, believing that this girl would become a wonderful wife and mother.

However, Karl already had a friend in Martin, who respected his conservative morals and sternness of mind. What’s more, Martin hated Penelope, and after noticing several times how Karl raised his voice at his eldest daughter, he began to respect him even more. Sometimes Martin thought that if his neighbor didn’t have such a pretty daughter, his own son wouldn’t be daydreaming, perpetually in the clouds, about marrying some princess of unearthly beauty one day. He believed such thoughts were very harmful, as Ian risked starting a family much later than he should, or, worse yet, remaining completely without offspring.

— We need to finish gathering the harvest quickly so we can get to the sowing — Gustav said, finishing the last of his wine.

Gustav was in his fifty-second year, making him the oldest man in the village. Formally, he was not the head of the village and did not have the deciding vote, but he was considered the unofficial leader among the elders. During his life, his father, Henrik, commanded respect throughout the entire village and was a great authority. He was revered as a wise man with vast life experience, and every piece of his advice was highly valued. When Henrik passed away, Gustav somehow decided that his father’s authority would be passed on to him by inheritance, and that he did not need to earn the respect of others through his own efforts. However, it was never customary in the village to appoint a leader among the elders; every issue was decided by vote. Nonetheless, Gustav consciously tried to convey the idea that he was the chief here and his opinion should not be questioned. No one outwardly ignored him, and they allowed him to assume the role of leader only out of respect for the deceased Henrik.

For that matter, Gustav also had his own reasons for hating Karl’s eldest daughter. The cause was that when his youngest son, Konrad, offered to court Penelope, she resolutely refused him. A flare of hatred was also directed at Andreas when Gustav discovered that Erikson was courting Penelope. Gustav thus came to the simple conclusion that, in Penelope’s opinion, his son was inferior to Andreas’s.

— We’ll make it — Herman confidently stated from the adjacent table. — The harvest is going according to plan, so there will be enough time.

— I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you. The weather has already surprised us once this year.

Herman didn’t answer because everyone understood how unyielding Gustav was in his certainty. He spent several more minutes citing a plethora of arguments in favor of his opinion, while Herman mused on how much Gustav was truly dramatizing everything. Herman himself was the exact opposite, preferring to view any problem as a matter of time: put in a little effort, and the problem would disappear. Now, having lost at “Tower,” he told Thomas in a confident tone, while energetically waving his arms:

— Alright, one more time. The glass is empty, so now nothing can interfere with me.

These words greatly amused Thomas.

Martin glanced at everyone present, weighed the situation one last time, and finally risked saying:

— Alright then. I see no one wants to talk about this, so I’ll start. — Everyone immediately looked at Martin. Placing his left hand on his hip, he continued speaking without the slightest tremor in his voice: — We must face the truth. The harvest this year is meager. Such reserves will definitely not last until spring. Maybe it’s time to discuss an alternative.

Gustav was the first to reply:

— I wouldn’t say everyone here is avoiding this conversation, Martin. Everyone understands. We just need to finish harvesting the grain to assess the final volume of provisions.

— It seems, — Wilhelm began, — that this option doesn’t bother you at all.

— We are simply realists — Martin retorted.

— You are simply crazy — Thomas objected.

— Be careful with your choice of words — Gustav insisted.

Thomas forgot about the game, slammed his glass onto the table, stood up abruptly from his stool, pointed his finger at Gustav, and said reproachfully:

— It’s easy to talk when you don’t have daughters.

Raising his voice a little, Gustav replied:

— What does that even mean!? Are you trying to call me a ruthless bastard!? Or maybe you think it’s my fault that I have three sons!?

— I don’t care what you think — Thomas continued. — Many of us have girls older than ten, and we’re not going to listen to talk like this from those who risk nothing.

— How dare you!? — Martin shouted, slamming the table. — In addition to my sons, I also have a daughter, but I try to accept the will of fate instead of avoiding responsibility.

Herman wanted to stand up and call for calm, but Thomas shouted another remark:

— What are you saying?! You have a daughter?! Wilhelm has four, only one of whom is not yet ten! How must he feel hearing this?! If you were in his place, I don’t think you would have the nerve to start this conversation!

Suddenly, Andreas jumped up from his chair, stood between the two tables, and yelled at the top of his voice:

— ENOUGH!!!

A silence fell over the barn that was louder than a cannon barrage.

Andreas may not have managed to calm everyone down, but at the very least, he made them all sit back down. He remained standing and began to lay out his proposal:

— Many of those present here have daughters. First of all, we must be respectful of their feelings and not act as if we were discussing the fate of some animal. Either way, it is too early to consider this option. We have not yet gathered the entire harvest or done a proper count. Regardless, we can hunt. Ultimately, we can slaughter a bit more livestock. We will then replace some of the plant provisions with meat and simultaneously reduce the amount of harvest needed to feed the animals. So, first of all, each of us needs to put our brains to work, — Andreas concluded, looking at Martin and then at Gustav as if addressing his words to them, — and then suggest something like this.

Martin could not understand Andreas simply because he had three sons and no daughters. Gustav, meanwhile, was certain that Andreas was worried about his offspring, who had already found a bride among the local girls.

Whatever the reason, this topic was closed — at least for the time being.

Having finished his glass, Wilhelm rose from the table, preparing to head home. Andreas and Thomas offered him a game, but he politely declined. With each passing day, he tried to leave Ava alone less and less, fearing premature labor, as had happened once before when Astrid was born.

Soon, Wilhelm crossed the threshold of the house. Usually, he went straight to the bed where, before closing his eyes, he would press himself tightly against Ava. At this stage, she could no longer sleep on her stomach and had to lie on her side. This time, Wilhelm went to the girls’ bed. He bent down and kissed each of them on the forehead. In those moments, tears began to well up in his eyes, but he found the strength to hold them back.

Wilhelm watched the girls for a while, particularly Frida, who seemed about to push Astrid right out of the bed. He carefully shifted Frida a little deeper, then went to his own bed. He pressed himself against Ava, wrapped his arm around her bulging belly, and closed his eyes, hoping to quickly fall asleep and at least temporarily escape his thoughts of Nix.

5. After Sunset

During those same autumn days, when the elders began gathering in the barn in the late evenings, the women of the village were also keeping busy. After clearing the table, each sought to spend time in someone else’s company.

Regina was about to wipe up the flour traces she found on the floor, but Penelope asked to do it herself. She kissed her daughter on the cheek and went to fill the lamp with oil. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Regina hurried to open the door. Ava stood on the threshold, surrounded by Irma, Astrid, Frida, and Wanda. Regina invited them all inside. Finally, she kissed Ava in greeting and then asked her to wait a moment while she finished filling her lamp. While waiting for Regina, Ava quietly approached Penelope from behind and sharply pinched her sides. Penelope screamed hysterically in surprise, and Ava couldn’t stop laughing for a long time.

— Sorry, — she managed to say through her laughter, — but I couldn’t resist.

Penelope tried her best to contain her smile, but she failed.

— All right — Penelope replied, as if forgiving her. — Just make sure the baby doesn’t jump out of your belly.

Ava appreciated the joke, grabbing Penelope’s shoulder for support to keep from falling, and, dissolving into laughter, nearly rested her chin on it.

Soon after, Regina appeared. She handed Ava the oil lamp and picked up a freshly baked apple pie. They headed for the exit. At the doorway, Regina said:

— Well, that’s everything. Don’t get bored.

Ava waved and said:

— Girls, be sure to obey Penelope.

A moment later, the door clicked shut.

On such evenings, Wanda was the most excited about visiting Penelope.

— What are we doing today? — she asked.

— Patience, sweetie — Penelope replied, wiping the last traces of flour from the floor.

Finished with the cleaning, she led the girls to her room and asked them to wait a moment. Then Penelope went out to the backyard and called out loudly:

— All right, everyone inside!

Ursula, Willie, and Sven raced at full speed toward Penelope. After bringing the children inside, she closed the door from the inside and went into the bedroom. There, as was usual in such cases, Penelope spread several wide, warm blankets on top of each other, where all the children could settle in a semicircle. She then sat opposite them with the lamp in her hand, tucking her legs beneath her. On each of these evenings, when parents throughout the village scattered in search of entertainment and interesting conversation, the little ones flocked to Penelope to listen to legends and fairy tales. This time, in her hands lay a book of stories by obscure authors.

That evening, she chose a story for the children about the love between a simple fisherman and the daughter of an emperor. In the story, the emperor forcibly married his daughter off to a member of the upper class by threatening to kill the fisherman. The fisherman could not bear this and, feeling his life fading, decided to pierce his own heart with a dagger. But moments before, the young man appealed to the higher powers and asked for only one thing: to be allowed to be reborn so that he might see the face of his beloved just one more time, even if only with one eye. However, the emperor’s daughter could not bear parting with the young man either. She was so distraught that she decided to jump from the window of her bedchamber in the high tower. The lovers died on the same day, at the same hour. But then, just a few months later, a stranger appeared in the city: a man by day, a huge wolf by night. The stranger suffered for a long time because the face of a certain maiden kept resurfacing in his mind. The face seemed familiar to him. He didn’t know who this beauty was, but he desperately wanted to find her. He searched for her for a long time but never found her. The stranger was alone, and that loneliness became more and more unbearable with each passing day. Turning into the wolf by night, he attacked the locals, who soon became wolves just like him. The stranger was no longer alone, but the beautiful maiden’s face still gave him no peace. His second essence, which emerged with the onset of darkness, kept him from being alone by creating a pack in which he found companions. But the stranger still felt lonely.

Soon, under the lamplight falling upon the pages, Penelope finished reading the last lines of the story:

— Captured in a beast’s flesh, he wandered the earth for long centuries, searching for his beloved in the hope that she was waiting for him somewhere.

Lying on the floor with her chin propped on her fists, an impressed Wanda took a deep breath and said out of habit:

— Read us something else?

But Penelope abruptly shut the book, causing a muffled thud, and said:

— That’s enough for today.

Upset, Wanda sighed even louder. The others were also annoyed that Penelope refused to read another story, but Wanda was the most indignant of all.

A knock sounded at the door. Charlotte hurried to open it. On the threshold stood Regina with the apple pie and Ava, who held the lamp in her right hand and pressed a shawl against her bulging belly with her left to keep the baby warm.

— Well, finally — Charlotte said, kissing her friends on the cheeks in turn. — Hurry, come in.

Regina and Charlotte were bosom friends. The same could be said for Ava, though in their case, the friendship was furthered by their children’s intent to marry. In their conversations, Charlotte and Regina often touched on the topic of the wedding, discussing the future they wished for Erikson and Penelope. Andreas, too, already considered Regina a full-fledged relative. At every chance meeting, he urged her to visit their home more often, promising he would ask Charlotte to cook something special for the occasion.

— By the way, Yvette sent word that she can’t make it — Charlotte said while pouring boiling water over the rose hips. — Their youngest has fallen ill. — After a short pause, Charlotte added: — I hope you didn’t eat too much at dinner?

— Not really — Regina said, placing the first slice of pie onto Ava’s plate.

— You don’t have to worry about me — Ava replied. After biting off a generous piece of pie, she added, with her mouth full: — The baby will help me; he can never get enough.

Regina and Charlotte laughed, and when the laughter subsided, Charlotte said:

— Selma promised to bring a baked hare.

Hearing about the baked hare, Ava lowered her eyelids and thought with some longing about how much she craved meat, all while continuing to chew the pie she was currently eating alone, as the others had decided to wait for Selma and the hare.

— Magdalena also said she couldn’t make it — Regina suddenly recalled. — She didn’t say why, though.

Charlotte added with an uplifted voice:

— At least we won’t have to see Roberta.

— She couldn’t come? — Regina asked. Ava wanted to ask the same question, but the pie in her mouth prevented her.

— I have no idea. I simply didn’t invite her.

This was excellent news for Regina and Ava, just as it would be for Selma.

Roberta, Gustav’s wife, had earned a reputation as the local shrew, with whom few wished to be friends. However, Roberta had a habit of not so much inviting herself as simply informing everyone that she would be joining the little gathering the women of the village held when their husbands were in the barn, the younger children went to Penelope for stories, and the rest went wherever. Her very presence prevented the other women from speaking their minds freely. On almost half of those evenings, the company would be missing one or two women. On those occasions when Roberta could not grace them with a visit, she truly pleased everyone. Unlike their husbands, the wives did not gather every day, but often enough; most evenings — especially in the colder months — were spent in noisy company. The previous morning, Charlotte had been “lucky” enough to run into Roberta on the street, who advised her to get rid of that awful shawl. Of course, Roberta couldn’t have known that the shawl had been a gift from Charlotte’s late mother, but she likely wouldn’t have changed her abrasive manners even if someone had informed her. Charlotte, without uttering a word, continued walking toward the well. That same day, she went around to all her friends and invited them to her place for tea and poppy seed buns. She certainly remembered Roberta. She remembered her so well that she made sure to keep her name off the guest list.

Since Gustav was the one who lectured everyone about life in their family, Roberta took on this role outside the home. She considered herself wiser and more clever than everyone else, simply because she was the oldest woman in the village. She didn’t even care that Herman’s wife, Yvette, for example, was only four years younger. In this respect, Roberta was much like her husband. In addition to not bothering about social graces, Roberta irritated everyone further by doing things like opening cabinets, rearranging items, giving orders, signaling when to set the table and when to clear it, scolding hosts for squeaky chairs and crooked tables, demanding that a hostess throw out old spoons and get new ones, telling everyone where to sit, and… In short, she literally made herself at home. She was also the chief culinary specialist, never missing an opportunity to comment on the dryness of the dough or a lack of sweetness. The last time Magdalena made a raspberry cake, Roberta — either because she couldn’t find a fault or for some other reason — said: “Next time, try adding some nuts, and plenty of them”.

The absence of such a toxic spirit made the gatherings a true rest and an excellent opportunity to speak freely, without any fear that their secrets would be heard by someone they didn’t want privy to their conversations.

Soon Selma appeared at the doorway. Ludwig followed her, holding a wide pan with the cooked hare. After placing the dish on the table, the young man wished everyone a pleasant appetite and departed.

Selma’s first act was to approach Ava, whom she did not allow to get up from her chair.

— How is the baby doing? — Selma asked, glancing briefly at Ava’s belly.

— He’s buttin’ — she replied.

— And right he is to do it — Selma insisted. — Good boy, don’t let your mom relax.

Ava laughed.

Selma quickly fetched a plate, and with surprising ease, sliced off the best piece of hare, which she placed in front of Ava, adding:

— I hope the baby has a good appetite?

— Like an animal — Ava replied a second before managing to put the first piece in her mouth. — I barely have time to swallow.

— There you go! — Selma exclaimed. — That means this time you have a true giant in there, because a girl couldn’t hold that much food.

Ava laughed again, revealing her snow-white teeth, which made it hard to imagine — even though she was the youngest of all the wives — that she had already given birth to four children and was carrying a fifth.

— Thank you, sweetie — the hostess almost shouted after Ludwig as he was closing the door behind him.

6. Trembling and Cold

The first severe frosts arrived. The ground underfoot was harder than stone. Over the course of a week, the frost had finally established its round-the-clock presence, whereas only a few days prior, when the sun was at its zenith, the soil underfoot would thaw for a time. Now, the frost gave no reprieve, day or night.

The village’s residents changed into the warmest parts of their wardrobes. During the cold, men wore wool jackets and heavy trousers, and kept their feet hidden in felt boots. Women wore fur coats, most often made from the pelts of hare, fox, or wolf; in rare cases, beaver fur was used. Women’s fur coats always featured a hood and their length reached nearly to the ground. Younger girls wore coats that did not fall below the knee.

That day, Penelope was wearing exactly such a coat. It was made of hare fur, which is much lighter than wolf or fox fur. She had gotten rid of her dress a couple of weeks before the first frost. Instead, Penelope wore deerskin trousers from the waist down, just like many who ventured into the forest in winter or often tumbled off their sleds while sliding downhill. Such trousers were very durable. A couple of years ago, Erikson had given her small boots made of reindeer fur. The hide from the animal’s chest had been used for this, where the fur was predominantly white. The white boots stood out strongly, especially on days when snow covered the ground. Ava was the only other person in the entire village with similar small boots made of white reindeer fur, since encountering a reindeer was a great rarity, not to mention finding one with such snow-white fur. Although Penelope suspected that Andreas was the one who shot the reindeer, she still pretended to believe in Erikson’s hunting abilities. That day she wore mittens on her hands, and, as usual, a hat made from the same hare that Ludwig had given her on her head.

It was a clear afternoon. Penelope was heading to the barn on Regina’s errand. Without the wind, the cold didn’t feel as intense. As she walked down the street, Willie caught up to her, suddenly pressing himself close and greeting her:

— Hello.

— Oh, hello — Penelope replied. — Where are you headed?

Willie thought for a second before replying:

— The same place you are.

Penelope put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, hugging him close, and said:

— What if I told you I was going to a bear’s den?

— That’s not true.

— What makes you so sure?

— Unless that bear is Erikson.

With those words, Willie was paraphrasing what Morten had said about his older brother at breakfast — and no matter how full his mouth might be, Willie never missed anything interesting.

Penelope’s lips parted in indignation and froze for a moment.

— Just you wait! — she said, taking off after Erikson’s younger brother.

Willie started to run but quickly tripped and landed hard on his stomach. Realizing he wouldn’t have time to escape, he rolled onto his back, held his hands out in front of him, and screamed, his eyes squeezed shut:

— That’s it! I give up! I give up!

Penelope ran up, dropped to her knees, and, slipping out of her mittens, pinched Willie’s nose with her index and middle fingers. She leaned in and announced loudly:

— Got you!

— No, please!

Then Penelope spread the fingers of her left hand and growled like a beast, sharply jabbing her fingers into the boy’s side. He shrieked, and Penelope continued to growl for a few moments, then laughed softly and hurried to pull Willie to his feet.

— All right, get up before you get sick.

Willie pressed himself against Penelope’s leg and said:

— Sorry. I won’t do it anymore.

That brought a smile to Penelope’s face. She hugged Willie again, after which they continued on their way.

— Will you read us a story today?

Penelope lowered her gaze, taking in Willie’s pleading, puppy-dog eyes.

— If I have time. So I can’t promise, Willie, but I’ll try.

— And will you read the one about the wandering Viking on his longship again?

— No, Willie. I’ll read something more interesting.

— Oh, please — Willie pleaded, pulling the puppy-dog eyes again.

They entered the barn. Ludwig was on duty there at the time, looking after the fire in the stove.

— Hey, hello — Penelope exclaimed happily.

— How are you doing? — asked Ludwig, pulling blocks from the tower one by one.

Penelope noticed a rifle leaning against the table.

— Do you never part with your rifle?

— I just saw a wild boar not far from here yesterday. I want to take it down if it shows up again.

Suddenly, a stomping sound was heard. Irma and Wanda were barreling toward Penelope. The latter barely managed to stay on her feet as she rushed up to Penelope.

— Hey, be careful.

Coming up close, Wanda, unlike her sister, didn’t waste time on a greeting, but immediately asked:

— Will you read today?

— I’ll try.

Leaving the barn, Penelope took part of the load from the girls and helped carry it home. Willie asked for something to carry as well. Penelope chose the lighter satchel and handed it to the boy.

Two weeks later.

It was early morning. Ludwig was getting ready to go hunting and decided to stop by the barn for some apples before departing. On his way to the barn, he heard a noise coming from the direction of the cattle pen. The sound resembled some kind of frantic commotion. The trembling in his chest grew stronger as Ludwig approached the door. He opened it, sticking the barrel of his rifle out in front of him. As soon as he took one step inside the pen, dozens of wolves materialized before Ludwig’s eyes, feeding on sheep carcasses. The entire pen was smeared with blood, and untouched sheep were huddled together at the far end. Ludwig aimed the barrel at the first wolf that caught his eye and pulled the trigger. A deafening crack resounded. The wolf’s torso was pierced clean through, and its carcass was thrown backward by the force. The sheep’s bleating became more frequent and louder. The next shot quickly followed, but hitting them was already difficult, as the wolves had begun to scatter. While the predators squeezed through the hole, which they had either made or simply discovered, Ludwig fired another volley of shots, managing to take down three wolves and wound one, which he then finished off with the butt of his rifle.

The first to react to the shots was Erikson, who was on duty in the barn. Then all the elders and some of their sons came running.

While Wilhelm and Andreas nailed shut the hole the wolves had entered through, Thomas and Ludwig checked the outer walls of the pen to ensure no other weak spots remained through which the wolves could re-enter. The others were counting the remaining livestock. Even though the pigs, cows, rabbits, and goats remained untouched, the loss of animals was severe. Out of fifty-six sheep, thirty-five remained.

Everyone refused to believe what had happened. No one could recall wolves ever venturing close to the village, let alone entering it. This was an unprecedented event. It was as if Nix was doing everything to deprive the residents of even the slightest chance of avoiding an encounter with him.

Everyone understood that now there would definitely not be enough livestock to cover the shortage of provisions.

7. Crop Failure

At noon, the elders gathered in the barn. It was clear the issue had to be resolved immediately. Nix was demanding a gift. He required offerings from the gathered harvest. This time, however, the usual solution threatened starvation for the entire village. But…

— We have no other path forward — Gustav declared decisively.

— Of course, it’s easy for you to say — Thomas countered. — Your children will remain untouched.

— I am sick of listening to this drivel! — Gustav nearly shouted.

— He’s right — Wilhelm said. — You can play the wise leader all you want, but your idea is an atrocity.

— You call the traditions established by our ancestors an atrocity!? — Gustav countered to Wilhelm in a noticeably raised voice.

— If you had even one daughter, you wouldn’t be so bold with your proposals.

Andreas immediately stood up to defend Wilhelm, adding:

— Say what you want, Gustav, but he is right. I don’t care what our ancestors did. We aren’t monsters of any sort.

Martin joined the argument. He spoke with particular fervor:

— Watch your tone! You’re talking about our ancestors! Show some respect!

Thomas responded to Martin by rising from his chair. He was looking at Martin, but his words were addressed to Gustav as well:

— Sometimes it pains me that some of our conversations remain strictly among us. — Now, Thomas addressed Martin directly, speaking of his sixteen-year-old daughter: — I’d be interested to see your face if that girl turns out to be Kolinda. How will you look into her eyes? Will even a single hair on you tremble? Is there truly not a drop of fatherly love left in your heart!?

A silence hung in the air, soon broken by Gustav:

— Fine. What exactly do you propose?

Wilhelm spoke up:

— We can hunt. We’ll give Nix the provisions he requires, and then three or four of us will go into the forest every day.

— And do you truly think that will save us? If we do it your way, we’ll first have to cover the loss of twenty-one sheep. Our situation was already terrible, and now, to top it all off, we’ve lost a portion of our livestock.

Andreas sat, continuing to listen attentively to Gustav’s arguments, which were difficult to counter. Things could not have been worse. But even now, maintaining his composure, Andreas still tried to find some way to force Gustav and his supporters to abandon this scheme. He knew that this required a viable counter-proposal — something genuinely feasible. Andreas also understood that Gustav would insist on his way until the very end, not only because he lacked daughters, but also because two of his three sons had already started their own families and were therefore present in the barn and had the right to vote. Martin, despite having a daughter, was still on Gustav’s side because, to him, his own blood was nothing more than a thing, worthless compared to the ancestral customs Martin was ready to die for. Yet Andreas, though he had no daughter of his own, never considered defending the laws of his ancestors at the cost of a virgin’s life, even if it was someone else’s child.

— Okay, enough — Gustav said decisively. — There’s no good solution here. So, we vote.

Andreas’s head snapped up. He said:

— Don’t you think it’s too early? The snow hasn’t even fallen yet. And the next full moon is still a long way off.

— No, I don’t — Gustav replied coldly. — I understand the feelings of some of you, but…

But before Gustav could finish, Thomas lunged at him, shouting:

— YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND A THING!!! — He tackled Gustav onto the barn floor and almost managed a strike before Andreas and Martin rushed over and hurried to pull him away. — Scum!!! These are our girls!!!

Gustav had always been certain that he was the leader of this pack, and that no one would dare to even raise their voice at him, let alone a hand. But after Thomas had nearly struck him across the face, he could no longer utter a word in the firm tone he had used before, and his iron self-control vanished in an instant.

— Brute! — Thomas continued. — Bastard!!! — With those words, he spat at Gustav. Andreas nevertheless managed to calm Thomas, as he was sure the vote would be on their side.

— All right, — said Andreas, — let’s vote.

There were nine elders in total: Gustav, Andreas, Thomas, Karl, Wilhelm, Herman, Martin, as well as Gustav’s two eldest sons, Ragnar and Henry.

— Let’s do it — Gustav uttered with a tremor. — Who is in favor of surrendering a virgin to Nix?

Gustav, Ragnar, Henry, and Martin raised their hands. They did so without the slightest hesitation. Less decisively, Karl also raised his hand. His vote determined the majority.

— Karl — Andreas let slip. He had been certain that the advantage would be on the side of those who had daughters over ten years old; there were four of them out of nine. But since Andreas himself, despite having no daughters, intended to support the girls’ fathers, he was confident in a majority opposition. A wild tremor entered his voice: — How can you? You have two daughters. Besides them…

Gustav’s confident tone returned as he proclaimed loudly:

— It is decided.

Martin patted his neighbor on the shoulder and said:

— Well done, Karl. That is the act of a worthy man.

Scoundrel — Thomas thought. In that moment, he felt the extent to which hatred for Karl had grown inside him.

Karl was looking off into the distance. There was emptiness in his eyes. He didn’t look upset, nor was there any sign of elation. It seemed to him that he was simply fulfilling the will of his ancestors. That was all.

In conclusion, Gustav stated:

— We’ll meet in seven days.

Everyone began to disperse. Thomas was one of the last to rise from the table. His expression was utterly defeated. Although Wilhelm had three daughters over ten, even he did not appear as downtrodden. It seemed Thomas would have just remained sitting there had Andreas not helped him up, followed by Herman, who came over and, even now, hadn’t lost heart, promising Thomas that everything would be fine. He offered no logical reasons for this, but such was Herman’s nature. Even at this moment, he believed that the stumbling block was not a problem but merely a matter of time: with a little more effort, the issue would resolve itself.

Suddenly, Martin approached Thomas and said:

— We have no choice.

Finding the strength to look up, Thomas replied:

— Get out of my sight, scumbag.

— You’re a grown man, and it’s time you understood: if we don’t surrender a virgin in time, Nix will come for all of us.

— MAY YOU DIE!!! — Thomas shrieked, grabbing the collar of Martin’s jacket. He threw his entire weight onto Martin, tackling him to the floor. He almost managed to land a punch on Martin’s nose, but Andreas and Herman managed to stop him. After pulling Thomas aside slightly, Andreas swiftly approached Martin and shoved him in the chest with all his strength using both hands, causing Martin to barely keep his balance. Finally, Andreas said:

— Get out. — Then Andreas picked up the knife from the table, used for slicing smoked meat to be eaten with wine, and, pointing the blade toward Martin, added: — I swear, I will slice you up with this knife if you don’t leave right now.

Without making a sound, Martin turned and walked toward the exit.

Gustav watched the scene unfold but was afraid to interfere. Twice that day he felt himself losing his status as the informal head of the village’s elders.

Meanwhile, Martin hurried toward the exit, placing a hand on the shoulders of Karl, who was walking ahead, as if seeking solidarity in his view.

Karl walked as if he were in a daze. He did not push his neighbor away, but he did not embrace him in return, either.

They approached the threshold, opened the door, and saw the clear daylight breaking through the falling flakes of heavy snow.

There were twenty days left until the next full moon.

8. White Cover

— Willie! — Morten shouted as his younger brother, grabbing the sled, ran towards the hill. — Stop it, you oaf! Wait until the snow settles! — He ran after him, trying to stop his brother. But Willie reached the hill first and, without a moment’s hesitation, sat on the sled and pushed off with his feet, riding down. He felt every bump and every stone.

But the snow was so heavy that the ground was covered very quickly. It took exactly as long for the hill to be ready as it took for Willie’s backside to recover from the harsh landing.

One after another, Ava’s daughters ran out into the street, with Ava walking leisurely behind them. Her common sense understood what the first snowfall was a harbinger of. But hormones were running rampant inside her, and there was too much childish laughter and shouting around to resist the wave of joy that engulfed the entire street in a matter of minutes.

— Let’s go together — Willie shouted when Ludwig reached the hill. He sat down behind Willie and pushed off. The sled hurtled downward, making them scream. Towards the end of the run, Willie fell out of the sled and flew into the bushes. Ludwig rushed to him. He pulled the boy to his feet and asked:

— Are you okay? Doesn’t hurt?

Willie was grinning from ear to ear. He replied:

— Let’s do it again.

Ludwig picked up the sled and took Willie’s hand, after which they began climbing the hill.

Erikson and Penelope were returning from the forest, making them the last to join the crowd at the slope.

— Me too! Take me! — Ursula screamed, running up to them as Erikson positioned the sled for the descent. He asked her to sit in front of her sister. Penelope hugged Ursula tightly, and Erikson hugged Penelope even tighter. Somewhere behind them, Willie sat on his sled and asked Ludwig to push him, hard, to make him fly as far as possible. But Ludwig had a better idea.

Erikson kissed Penelope on the lips, after which the two of them started using their feet to get to the edge. Soon the sled carried them downward, making them scream at the top of their lungs. They thought they were going incredibly fast. But then Ludwig began to overtake them from the side, lying face-down on the sled with Willie sitting astride him and shouting:

— Giddy-up! Go!

Erikson and Penelope watched them with astonished eyes, seeing the back of Willie’s head emerge in front of them.

Ian wasn’t sitting at home either. He was retrieving his sled to climb the hill when he suddenly saw Penelope at the top. She sat down, and moments later, she began to scream, baring her teeth. Ian watched her face, completely mesmerized, so much so that he didn’t even notice Ludwig and Willie approaching him. Nor did he hear their shouts telling him to move. In the end, they crashed into him, and Ian tumbled onto the snowy ground, losing sight of Penelope.

Quickly making sure Willie was okay, Ludwig rushed to Ian, placed a hand on his shoulder, and asked:

— You alright?

Ian didn’t say a word, just nodded a few times.

— Hey man, be more careful next time. — With these words, Ludwig took Ian’s hand and helped him up, then clapped him on the shoulder, grabbed the sled, and followed Willie back up the hill.

Just then, the sled carrying Ursula, Penelope, and Erikson flashed past Ian’s eyes. Towards the end, their conveyance spun slightly, after which a bump rose directly in their path, causing all three of them to overturn. Ursula quickly got to her feet, but Erikson continued to lie there for a while, not releasing Penelope from his embrace. He returned to his favorite tactic, pressing his teeth into the part of her neck he could reach between her jacket and hat. Penelope screamed as if she were being butchered, barely managing to gasp:

— Well, stop it!

Soon her voice turned into uncontrollable laughter. Then she slipped her hands under Erikson’s jacket, felt his stomach through her mittens, and pinched him good and hard. He screamed as if he’d been seized by a fanged beast.

— Well, what did you expect? — Penelope said, turning to face Erikson. — Your Squirrel bites back too.

Noticing how abruptly Erikson started tucking his legs under him, Penelope hurried away, shouting ahead:

— Ursula, run!

They raced up the slope while Erikson, grabbing the sled, tried to catch his Squirrel.

For his daughters, Wilhelm had built a long sled with handrails so that all four sisters could fit and have something to hold onto. They all settled into their places in the order of their birth, giving each girl a clear view ahead. Ava started to bend down to push them, but Herman’s twenty-three-year-old daughter, Caroline, stopped her.

— How are you doing? — she asked, having sent the girls down the slope.

Ava wore such a satisfied expression that the question was rhetorical. For this reason, Caroline didn’t wait for an answer, immediately adding:

— You’re not going to catch a cold, are you? — It was unlikely the question was rhetorical this time, considering Ava’s fur coat was no longer able to be buttoned.

— I’m fine — Ava insisted.

Suddenly, Caroline looked aside and shouted to her brother, who was eight years her junior:

— Nils! — She gestured to show what she would do to him if he kept throwing snowballs at his friends’ heads.

— It was an accident — he excused himself.

— Aim lower, or you’ll accidentally find yourself remembering the way home.

Immediately, Caroline turned to her other two brothers, Franz and Oliver, and asked them to watch Nils. Unlike the mischievous Nils, twenty-one-year-old Franz and eighteen-year-old Oliver perceived Caroline as the head of the family after their parents, and any word from their older sister was an order that brooked no argument.

Erikson caught up to Penelope and knocked her to the ground. By that time, the soil was already covered with a substantial layer of snow, some of which got into Penelope’s mouth while she was tumbling after Erikson’s shove. However, she didn’t have to resist for long. Herman’s youngest daughter, Frederica, who was only two years Penelope’s junior, ran to her aid. Frederica pushed Erikson away, after which she and Penelope hurried to the hill, and, holding hands, jumped off, sliding down on their backs. Ursula ran after them but slipped and landed flat on her stomach. Ursula rolled most of the way down with her cheek pressed against the snow. Hearing her sister’s cries, which clearly weren’t from joy, Penelope rushed to her. Frederica helped her pull Ursula to her feet. Fortunately, the snow had already compressed enough by then to hide the stones and rough unevenness of the frozen ground. Therefore, Ursula’s discomfort was limited to a temporarily reddened patch of skin on her cheek from the friction.

Thomas’s daughter, Adele, a year Ludwig’s junior, took the sled from Irma’s hands, then took her hand and helped her climb the hill. Next, with her help, Astrid, Frida, and Wanda took their final steps to the summit. Soon, after waiting for the girls to sit in the sled again, Adele accelerated their ride, but towards the end, she slowed down slightly and carefully lowered the sled down the slope, jumping in a second later. After rolling to the end of the slope, this time Adele dragged the sled herself, holding Wanda with her other hand. Upon nearing the top, Adele bumped into Ludwig, who took the sled from her and then pulled Astrid and Frida by their hands. Irma, as the eldest, had climbed without assistance, and Wanda walked the rest of the way to the top, holding Adele’s hand.

— You might as well have come tomorrow — Adele shouted discontentedly as her best friend, Kolinda, ran toward the hill. — I was busy! — Kolinda retorted, running past her friend.

Martin’s youngest son, thirteen-year-old Klaus, didn’t have the patience to search for a sled, so he accepted the offer from Thomas’s twelve-year-old son, Sven, to ride his sled together. But unlike her younger brother, Kolinda had the patience to find his sled and hurry to the hill. Adele positioned herself behind her, and they began pushing off with their feet. The ride was too much fun for them to pay attention to the tree they crashed into. This only added to the laughter on their faces and intensified their desire to repeat it.

Klaus was so engrossed in sledding that he no longer paid attention to his older sister appropriating his own sled. Likewise, Ursula had stopped noticing the burning sensation on her cheek. Ludwig had already forgotten about the wild boar that had appeared near the barn. Ava wasn’t thinking about a thing, feeling uplifted by the joy unfolding before her eyes, where delighted shouts rang out, and the snow only grew heavier, leaving not a single dark patch in sight.

9. Cracked Facade

As dusk fell, the women had a hard time getting the children to go home.

Some of the elders had already dispersed while it was still light out. The laws required them not to reveal anything that happened during the meetings or what decisions they made. It took superhuman effort to hide their anxiety, fear, anger, and hatred. Some were even consumed by a thirst for blood. But the fathers of the daughters tried with all their might to remain silent. Andreas suddenly rode into the forest for some unknown reason, without saying a word. Wilhelm went hunting. Thomas decided to immediately start working on the skins of the wolves that Ludwig had shot, intending to make a fur coat of some kind. For instance, a fur coat for his beautiful Adele, so his girl wouldn’t freeze in the bitter cold. And Herman… Herman was still far from despair. He still believed that every problem could be solved. He pondered how they could untangle themselves from all this, but not a single bright idea came to mind. For the time being, his face didn’t express any anxiety.

Two days later, when Martin went to the barn as usual, Magdalena gathered all her friends at her home. Now the get-togethers were held a little earlier, when the daylight outside the windows hadn’t yet died down. The children were amusing themselves outside, and the house was empty. The only obstacle to a full disclosure was, of course, Roberta.

She was the very first to arrive at Magdalena’s and brought cherry buns with her. Everyone always tried her baking. This only happened, however, after Roberta insistently began to recommend trying her baked goods, or when someone refused under the pretext of being full, she herself would place a bun on their plate and wouldn’t leave them alone until she had her way.

Magdalena endured the first minutes of her presence with great difficulty, as always. Roberta rearranged all the plates and cups on the table the way she did at her own house, loudly commenting on each change, specifically for Magdalena. When Regina and Ava arrived, Magdalena immediately felt relieved. When Selma, Yvette, and Charlotte appeared, she almost stopped noticing Roberta — that is, until Roberta herself reminded them of her presence.

And, of course, it was Roberta who raised the topic that made everyone feel sick at heart.

— Apparently, this winter will be hard. The harvest was small, so we’ll have to eat half as much until spring.

— To hell with the harvest. The lives of our girls are more important — Magdalena asserted.

— They’re stockpiling the sacks in the barn in a separate pile, apparently for the offering — said Charlotte. — So we can breathe easy. — However, Charlotte didn’t even believe her own words. She knew one thing: while Roberta was near them, it was not wise to talk about her true feelings and assumptions.

— It’s hard to even imagine — Yvette said — what our ancestors felt when they went through something like that. — Unlike Charlotte, Yvette truly believed that the separately stacked bags of provisions would become an offering to Nix. In this respect, she was not much different from her husband and supported him in everything concerning any problems that could be solved with a little more effort.

— And I was bracing for the worst. — Charlotte spoke these words with absolute sincerity, despite the fact that she and Andreas did not have a single daughter.

— Yes — Yvette continued. — It’s better to cut back on food all winter than to engage in such barbarism.

Ava was the only one who had no interest in the conversation. Her attention was solely on the honey pie that Magdalena had baked.

Regina put in a word as well:

— I still can’t understand how people could do such a thing before. Could they really do it with their own hands…

— You know what? — Roberta interrupted. — The law of the ancestors, while harsh, is still the law.

Every one of her statements was always met with a deafening silence. No one responded to her comments, but only because Roberta tolerated no criticism. Moreover, she believed in her husband’s authority, which she felt she ought to uphold among the women. Roberta, however, interpreted the silence as a sign of universal agreement with her words, which only reinforced her belief in her own rectitude, no matter what she said.

Ava, though, didn’t care what Roberta believed, and so she was the only one who didn’t keep silent:

— I don’t know what was going through the ancestors’ heads, but you, Roberta, perceive a girl’s life like a sack of potatoes — a shame to throw out, perhaps, but you can always grow a new one.

— Don’t get overheated, dear — Roberta gently countered, gesturing with her palm for Ava to calm down. — You may be with child, but you need to speak more carefully on such topics.

Ava spoke a little louder:

— You don’t have any girls, neither among your children nor your grandchildren. You’ve never had anything to worry about your entire life…

— Just a minute! — Roberta interrupted in a commanding tone. — Am I to blame for giving my husband three men?! And am I to blame that my daughters-in-law followed my example?! You had better compose yourself! I understand that this is difficult for you right now, but don’t you dare…

In response, a true scream tore from Ava’s lips:

— Shut up! Stop implying that I don’t know what I’m saying! My head is screwed on straight! I am of sound mind! But you are the one with huge problems with your head! There is nothing sacred left in you at all!

— If you raise your voice at me again… — Roberta was almost screaming, but Ava interrupted her again, her voice nearly breaking:

— I hope your sons never have another boy, and that every one of your granddaughters fulfills the law of the ancestors, BITCH!!!

Roberta abruptly stood up from her chair. She put one hand on her hip and was ready to swing the other in front of Ava’s face, but she didn’t get the chance. Magdalena, who was sitting next to her, jumped up to Roberta and, gently nudging her shoulder, said:

— Roberta, leave.

— What did you say!? — Roberta was indignant, straightening up to her full height.

At that moment, Regina, with motherly care, was stroking Ava’s shoulders, trying to calm her. She stood half-sideways in front of Ava, as if trying to shield her with her body from the enraged Roberta.

— She must not get upset — Magdalena continued to coax in a soft tone. — And now is not the time to settle grievances. Just go home.

— How dare you!? — Roberta snapped, nearly burying her nose in the face of the mistress of the house.

As the shouting intensified, Regina held Ava tighter, feeling even her own heart quicken its pace.

At that moment, Selma’s patience finally broke, and she hurriedly rounded the table to approach Roberta. Taking her by the elbow, she said in a calm but firm and confident voice:

— Okay, get out of here!

— You…

Roberta didn’t manage to finish before Selma added, in the same confident and calm voice:

— If anything happens to her, I will quarter you! Get out of here!

Roberta continued to protest, but Selma forcibly shoved her toward the exit. The door slammed in Roberta’s face. A second later, the door burst open again. Selma threw Roberta’s fur coat at her and slammed the door shut again, this time for good.

10. Love and Despair

The first day of hunting after the snowfall yielded Wilhelm only one hare and one pheasant. Returning to the village, he ran into Ludwig as the boy was stepping outside to get firewood. Thomas’s house was next door to Wilhelm’s, and he and Ludwig crossed paths ten times a day. The young man asked Wilhelm not to leave without him the next day. After these words, Wilhelm came up to Ludwig and followed him into the house. Selma met him at the threshold and was pleasantly surprised by his arrival. Wilhelm held out the hare and the pheasant and suggested she choose which was preferable. Selma said:

— I recall Ava liked the hare I made last time. Let me cook it, and you and the girls can come over for dinner.

Wilhelm was delighted by the offer. He regarded it as an opportunity for Ava to get a little rest from the fuss in the kitchen.

— Then take the pheasant too — Wilhelm said, holding out the shot bird. — One hare won’t be enough for so many hungry mouths.

Selma laughed and added:

— And you also have a maturing man.

Wilhelm didn’t even realize he had started laughing along with Selma.

The moment Ludwig disappeared, Adele, hearing the neighbor’s voice, entered the hallway. After greeting him, she immediately asked:

— Where’s a bear?

Wilhelm replied in an almost serious voice:

— Come with me tomorrow, and I’ll introduce you two.

The hallway was so filled with laughter that no one noticed Thomas entering from outside. He shook Wilhelm’s hand and hugged him, which they had never done before. Selma, of course, noticed it but pretended that nothing unusual had happened. Selma was always capable of keeping her emotions in check.

Thomas suggested they go in for a glass of wine, but Wilhelm was rushing to get back to Ava. The dinner turned out to be noisy, cheerful, and very satisfying. However, for it to be cheerful, Thomas and Wilhelm needed wine — a lot of wine. So much so that Ava couldn’t help but notice it.

The next morning, Wilhelm was harnessing the horses for another hunt, waiting for Ludwig. He didn’t have to wait long. However, Ludwig didn’t appear alone. He tossed a dozen and a half traps into the cart and said:

— Boar won’t escape us.

This lifted Wilhelm’s mood so much that he asked:

— Where’s your sister? She wanted to meet a bear.

— Didn’t she tell you?

Wilhelm shook his head negatively, after which Ludwig added:

— No one dates her because no one lives long near her.

Wilhelm almost laughed but still said:

— Hey, she is your sister.

Ludwig replied with a hint of indignation:

— What did I say? I meant that everyone dies from her beauty.

Now Wilhelm couldn’t hold back his laughter, and Ludwig met it with a slight smile.

They settled into their seats, after which Wilhelm cracked the reins and the horses pulled the cart forward.

— By the way, want to hear a story about a bear? — Ludwig asked.

— Go on.

— A friend comes to visit a hunter who has a bear skin lying on the floor. The friend asks, “How many times did you shoot at the bear?” The hunter answers, “Six”. The friend asks, “And how many times did you hit it?” The hunter says, “None”. The friend is baffled and says, “Then why did the bear die?” And the hunter replies, “From laughter”.

The laughter shook Wilhelm’s stomach for a long time. He had forgotten the last time he had laughed like that. At that moment, he thought how lucky he was that Ludwig had joined him.

Once deep in the forest, the first thing they did was set the traps, after which they rode a little further and began to scout the forest with loaded rifles.

Wilhelm and Ludwig were returning home with four hares, three of which were Wilhelm’s. However, on the way back, Ludwig proved sharp-eyed and spotted a wild boar. Although the snow cover helped, not every hunter would have been able to notice a target at such a great distance. They approached from different sides and kept going until they were beyond the boar, hoping to force the animal to run toward the cart. But that boar wasn’t so foolish; after Wilhelm’s first shot, it ran in the opposite direction. Waiting until the animal ran a little further — enough for Wilhelm to be out of the line of fire — Ludwig pulled the trigger, hitting the boar in the belly, and with the second shot, he hit it directly in the head.

After the emotions had calmed down, Ludwig ran to the cart. He unhitched the horses and galloped back to Wilhelm. By weight, the boar was one and a half to two times heavier than an adult human, which is why they had to use the horses for loading. They wrapped ropes around the boar’s neck and dragged it to the cart using two horses, where they had to toil considerably to get the boar onto the wagon. To do this, Wilhelm and Ludwig got out some boards that they used as a ramp. Ludwig watched to make sure the boards didn’t slide off the cart while Wilhelm drove the horses forward, pulling the boar. Having finished loading their quarry, the hunters returned to the village.

Upon arriving home, Ludwig rushed to call his father to boast about the boar, which he had never managed to shoot before. Thomas was impressed by what he saw. Despite the feelings Thomas harbored toward Gustav, his descendants, Martin, and Karl, he was still persuaded to distribute the boar to all the families. To butcher the carcass, they called Andreas and Herman to help, which spared Thomas the necessity of seeing certain faces. Once the boar was skinned and the carcass butchered, Andreas called Erikson to help Ludwig distribute the meat throughout the village.

First off, Erikson was needed, of course, so that no one else would have to go to the threshold of Karl’s house, where Erikson would head anyway.

— Here you go, my Squirrel — Erikson said when Penelope opened the front door.

— Have you learned to hunt? — she asked.

As Penelope spoke, Regina appeared on the threshold, and her presence saved the young man from the mockery of his Squirrel.

— Hello, Erikson. Well done, I must say. — With these words, Regina walked over and kissed Erikson on the cheek.

As much as Erikson wanted to impress his beloved, he still had to confess and tell the bitter truth:

— You’ll have to thank Wilhelm and Ludwig for this.

Penelope gave a sly smile.

— Maybe you’d like to come in? — Regina offered.

— Thank you, but maybe another time. I still need to finish some work.

Suddenly, Regina remembered and said:

— Oh, Erikson, wait. I almost forgot.

While Regina went to fetch the pie she had baked using a new recipe, Penelope asked:

— Well, should we go out somewhere?

— Squirrel, I told you, I have a ton of work.

— I know what kind of work you have there, you slacker.

— What is that supposed to mean? — Erikson asked with indignation.

At that moment, Regina appeared, handing over a package with the pie, and Penelope blew a kiss and quickly said:

— Say hi to everyone at home.

“We’re not done yet,” Erikson wanted to say, but Penelope, taking the meat with her, hastily disappeared from the threshold.

Erikson thanked Regina for the pie and said his farewells.

The following morning, Thomas, Herman, and Andreas decided to join Wilhelm and Ludwig.

11. Fading Hope

Among the traps set the previous day, Wilhelm found three hares. The others were empty. Ludwig shot two more hares. During the day, Andreas bagged two pheasants, and Herman caught a fox, which he only brought down with the fifth shot. Hearing this, Wilhelm said:

— But don’t worry. If you had kept missing, she would have died anyway, but only from laughter.

Herman was amused by the joke. He was not ashamed to admit that he was not as experienced a shot as Andreas, especially after Wilhelm’s story about how a boar ran right in front of him, only for Ludwig to bring it down.

Thomas spotted a deer that was too quick and bolted before he could even fire a second shot.

Later in the evening, after the hunt, Thomas entered the house and learned that Penelope had visited and brought a honey pie with poppy seeds. When Thomas asked if anyone from Gustav’s or Martin’s families had come by, Selma shook her head negatively. Ava also placed a similar pie on the table when Wilhelm entered the house and sat down to eat.

Three days later, they went hunting with the same group, with the exception of Ludwig. He stayed behind to look after the stove in the barn.

The hunters split into pairs. Wilhelm and Thomas went to check the traps, while Andreas and Herman headed in a different direction, agreeing to meet at the old hill.

After covering a considerable distance and not encountering a single animal, Andreas suggested to Herman that they take a break. They found a fallen trunk of an old pine, shook off the snow, laid down their game sacks, sat, and began drinking from a flask of wine.

After taking a few sips, Herman began to confide. He told Andreas that his eldest daughter, Caroline, was engaged and was due to marry a young man from a village in the east next spring. However, before Andreas could congratulate him, Herman’s voice began to tremble. He said he had started pondering how to move the wedding up and marry his daughter off in the coming days to save her from this savage ritual. But Herman admitted that he did not want to act so dishonorably toward Thomas and Wilhelm. He also said that although he disliked Karl and Martin, he still liked their daughters, especially Penelope, who, as Herman put it, was terribly unlucky with her father. He then began to muse that their hunting would change nothing, since neither Gustav nor Martin had even offered a word of thanks for the meat they had received, meaning they intended to keep insisting on their way and were not going to reconsider their decision. Suddenly, tears began to well up in Herman’s eyes. This was the last thing Andreas had expected. Not Herman. Andreas had previously been certain that nothing could break Herman’s positive disposition. But now Herman was crying, and the worst part was that Andreas mentally agreed with every argument Herman had put forth, even as he tried to console his friend.

The fifth day of hunting was already telling on Wilhelm’s physical condition. Three days running had become quite exhausting for the others as well. They felt weak, and some even had trembling knees from time to time.

The hunt came to an end. There was nothing in the traps, but Andreas did manage to shoot a deer. Although it was small, it was still enough to slightly lift their spirits when everyone was already discouraged that the whole day and so much energy had been spent in vain.

Standing by the cart after the deer carcass had been loaded, Andreas spoke, addressing everyone:

— So, we will divide the deer equally. But I have only one question.

Everyone understood what Andreas was referring to. By that point, they had already faced the truth and resigned themselves to the hopelessness of the situation their families were in. They decided that Martin, Karl, Gustav, and his sons would not receive a single gram of this deer.

12. Lot

Gustav and his two eldest sons — Ragnar and Henry — were the first to arrive at the barn. Upon their arrival, Herman’s eldest son, Franz, handed control of the stove over to them and went home. Karl arrived next, and Martin caught up with him on the way, admonishing his neighbor for not waiting. Karl made no reply to his neighbor’s playful chiding. He simply walked to where he needed to be that evening, thinking of nothing else. The five of them sat for quite some time and even decided to play a game of “Tower”.

When the door swung open, Andreas entered the barn, casting a cold stare at those present. Following him was Herman, with a grimace hard to imagine on his face, as if he were walking to the scaffold. Behind Herman came Wilhelm. The tall, strong, young Wilhelm seemed more vulnerable than ever that evening. Thomas was the last one. He loudly slammed the door shut behind him, walked up with a bold stride, took a seat, and began to fix a look upon those present, full of hatred, anger, and disgust.

For six evenings, Andreas, Herman, Wilhelm, and Thomas had not come to the barn. After not one of the others expressed gratitude for the boar meat, the three fathers of daughters and Andreas no longer felt any desire to spend time with those in whom they had ceased to see a heart.

Gustav waited until everyone was seated before he began to speak. However, his voice no longer sounded as confident and bold as he was accustomed to. Thomas’s enraged face did not allow him to feel like the leader of this company. Thomas despised him and didn’t even try to hide it.

— We need to decide who will cast the lot.

Lying on the table were three cubes, several times larger than conventional dice. Since there were nine virgins in the village aged ten and over, three cubes were needed: the abbreviated name of each virgin was scratched on each face, and since there were only six faces per cube, it was decided to use three cubes to distribute the nine names across eighteen faces, thereby balancing the probability for each name. Each name was scratched on two opposite faces of one cube: Caroline, Frederica, Adele, Penelope, Ursula, Kolinda, Irma, Astrid, Frida. Nine virgins.

No one responded to Gustav’s words. Martin would have done it with great pleasure, but Thomas’s presence caused inner discomfort, making him waver in his resolve. Gustav then handed the wooden cup to his eldest son. Ragnar picked up the three cubes bearing the virgins’ names, tossed them into the cup, covered it with his other palm, and began to shake it. He couldn’t have imagined how thrilling this was. If before he had done the same thing to determine the fate of, at most, a couple of wine bottles, now he was playing with cubes to determine a person’s fate. Henry, watching his brother shake the cubes, regretted more than ever that he was not the eldest of the brothers. It seemed to him that deciding a human destiny was the most intriguing activity. This is exactly what Ragnar would confirm a little later.

As soon as Ragnar took the cup, Thomas slightly bared his teeth. A desire surged within him to slit the throat of this scoundrel, in whose veins flowed the blood of an identical scoundrel. Wilhelm’s and Herman’s heads were bowed, their eyes fixed somewhere downward. They felt no desire whatsoever to look at either the cup or the cubes. Unlike them, Andreas found the strength to watch Ragnar’s hands. Karl looked at the cup, but his thoughts were far away. He pondered how life had never granted him a son. He was also thinking about how tired he was of everything and wanted only one thing: for it all to end as quickly as possible.

A loud, muffled thud sounded as Ragnar abruptly slammed the cup down, pressing it against the tabletop. Carefully, with a slow movement, to avoid tipping any of the cubes, he removed the cup. The name Adele was scratched on the top face of the first cube. Thomas barely held back the tears that begged to escape, and his fingers ached to throttle Ragnar. Penelope’s name was shown on the second cube. The third cube bore Ursula’s name. Karl seemed to be overcome by paralysis. His face was completely unchanged. This earned Karl respect from Martin but made Andreas despise him even more.

Gustav spoke the three names aloud, after which Ragnar took out a clean cube and began to scratch the names of Adele, Penelope, and Ursula twice on opposing faces with a knife.

Karl watched intently as tiny shavings fell from the cube, revealing the names of the three virgins.

Neither Wilhelm nor Herman felt any relief. Over the course of seven days, they had replayed the names and faces of the girls whose names were scratched on the cubes many times in their minds. They thought they might never see any of these girls again, and the only question was which one.

Ragnar finished carving the name on the last face of the cube, immediately dropped it into the cup, covered it with his palm, and began to shake.

Gustav spread his hands along the edges of the table, trying to give those present the impression that he was fighting for the will of their ancestors and, therefore, cherished the most sacred thing the villagers possessed. As his son determined a human destiny, Gustav regained the sense of confidence that he was the leader in this village and that his authority was beyond question. But this feeling lasted exactly until Gustav looked at Thomas once again. It seemed to Martin that these seconds were determining the outcome of a long, persistent, and fierce confrontation. As if zombified, he didn’t tear his eyes away from the cup; his fingers under the table lightly tapped his thigh, and his lips silently moved, as if he desired a specific result from this game and cared about it. Wilhelm tore his gaze away, wanting for a moment to look at the cup shaking in Ragnar’s hands, but at the last second, he looked away, staring up at the ceiling and then back at the floor. The sound of the cube tumbling in the cup caused goosebumps on his body, as if it were playing on his nerves, hitting ever higher notes with each impact against the cup’s walls. Herman was still looking somewhere under the table, wishing to be as far away from all this as possible. In those minutes, he wanted to be without eyes and ears more than ever. He wanted it all to end quickly, while realizing that the events of the coming days would haunt him for a very long time. Sometimes such nightmares unfold in life that oblivion will never come, and even a thousand cups of wine won’t bring it closer. Andreas, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off Karl’s face, wondering how he could possibly become related to such a person. He didn’t understand how he could start a conversation with someone who hadn’t been willing to utter just one word to protect his own children from the threat. And Thomas… Thomas was thinking about how he could most easily approach Gustav, because his mind was entirely focused on the knife hidden in his jacket sleeve. He wouldn’t have come to the barn that evening, but one reason had emerged for him, and that reason was too compelling to ignore. Regardless of the lot’s result, Thomas intended to fulfill his plan, which he considered a sacred duty to the children of the entire village. The only thing Thomas regretted was that it hadn’t occurred to him to slit Gustav’s throat before they had gathered here to vote.

Ragnar sharply lowered the cup and pressed it against the tabletop. A deathly silence fell. The cube with the names was frozen in one spot somewhere under the cup. The fate of one of the girls was hidden beneath it. The cube was concealed in darkness but was already straining to reveal itself. Nix needed a virgin.

With an unprecedented ease, Ragnar moved the cup aside.

Penelope. A second later, Gustav spoke her name aloud, confirming the result of the lot.

There was a gaping void in Karl’s eyes. They revealed no anxiety, no fear, and no regret. There was nothing there. Like two abysses into which all troubles and misfortunes might fall, only for them to fill the entire view again a second later, with nothing but the chasm ever appearing in their stead.

Andreas clearly saw this emptiness. He vowed never to offer Karl his hand or speak to him. This was not because his son was left without a fiancée, nor because Andreas had begun to perceive Penelope as the daughter he never had. He simply wondered: “What can be expected from a man for whom even his own child’s life means nothing?”

But Martin respected Karl even more. Later, he would express his admiration for Karl’s self-control and say that he wouldn’t have been able to react so stoically to the lot if it had pointed to Kolinda. But Karl, as always, would remain silent. He preferred not to waste time on empty words but always spoke only to the point. And his face was utterly stony. So stony that neither Regina nor Penelope would suspect a thing.

Suddenly, Andreas, Wilhelm, Herman, and Thomas began to get up from the table, one after another, and head for the exit.

Thomas didn’t understand why he was retreating. It was as if his legs were fighting his will. He walked toward the exit ahead of everyone, hearing Gustav’s voice loudly address all those leaving before they could step out of the barn:

— And everyone keep quiet! That is what custom dictates! If we can’t sacrifice food, then we must sacrifice blood! — After a short pause, when almost everyone was already outside, he added: — And we must hurry! We don’t have much time! — Gustav’s voice, though loud, was devoid of its usual confidence and determination.

Thomas stepped outside and took a few steps to the side when he suddenly stopped. He thought he would never forgive himself. Without the slightest hesitation, Thomas pulled the knife from his sleeve and walked with a determined stride back toward the barn entrance. But his plan was doomed from the start. While still sitting at the table, Andreas had noticed the handle of the knife tucked into Thomas’s sleeve. Even then, he knew he would have to stop Thomas at any cost, and the fact that Thomas stepped out of the barn for a few seconds made Andreas’s task much easier. He grabbed Thomas by the arms and held on with all his strength, preventing him from taking a single step.

— Let me go! — Thomas groaned, the tension causing the veins on his neck to bulge.

— Don’t be foolish! — Andreas insisted in a quiet voice, straining just as hard as Thomas.

Herman and Wilhelm quickly arrived and helped restrain Thomas. After Thomas stopped struggling toward the barn, they moved further away, where Andreas almost whispered through his ragged breathing:

— Forget it.

Andreas then suggested that Thomas wait a while, and when everything settled down, they should pretend they had come to terms with everything and needed to move on with their lives; as a gesture of reconciliation, they would invite Gustav to hunt. Only once they were in the forest, far from the village, did Andreas suggest they shoot Gustav with their rifles.

— Who knows what might happen to a man in the woods? A bear. Wolves. He’ll get what he deserves. But not now.

With difficulty, Thomas finally agreed to Andreas’s proposal. Wilhelm and Herman didn’t know what to make of the idea but promised to support any plan. In truth, Andreas had no intention of sending Gustav to the next world. He hoped that if he dissuaded Thomas from his intentions now, then later, after some time, Thomas would abandon the idea himself.

13. Penelope

— Wait, Squirrel! — Erikson shouted, catching up with Penelope along a forest path hidden under a layer of compacted snow.

The morning was clear and windless. Although the sun was shining, the frost did not allow one to feel its warmth. A squirrel darted past Penelope’s eyes. At first, she was pleased, but then immediately thought: “How good that Erikson didn’t see the creature.” Only after waiting for the squirrel to disappear from sight did Penelope turn and say:

— Come on, hurry up.

She was unaccustomed to seeing Erikson with a rifle on his shoulder. And he himself would have been glad not to carry the rifle, but after the wolves raided the sheep pen, Andreas had strictly forbidden leaving the village without a gun, fearing that the animals might have migrated to places where they hadn’t been before.

But then, a stroke of luck. Erikson spotted a hollow in a tree and, to avoid carrying the extra weight in vain, he decided to take a shot.

— Oh, look — he said.

— What are you planning? — Penelope asked warily.

— You’ll see — Erikson answered, closing one eye and carefully taking aim.

Penelope glanced in the direction the rifle barrel was approximately pointing, and, seeing the hollow, she immediately ran up to Erikson, grabbed the barrel, and wrenched it upward, saying:

— Are you crazy!?

— What?

— What if there’s a squirrel in there, or maybe even one with babies.

A grin appeared on Erikson’s face.

— I see. You’re worried about your kin.

Penelope curled her upper lip, mocking Erikson’s laugh, then turned and walked further down the path.

— Oh, come on — Erikson murmured guiltily, holding out his open palm. He threw the rifle back onto his shoulder and ran after the girl. — Are you upset?

Noticing how Penelope continued to walk forward silently and ignored his words, Erikson quickened his pace, moved around her, stood in front of her, blocking her path, and said in a commanding voice:

— Alright, that’s it! Don’t move! — The barrel was pointed straight at Penelope. On the one hand, this didn’t frighten her at all, as it was clear Erikson was trying to wipe the serious look off her face. But on the other hand, Penelope realized Erikson’s actual experience as a shooter and how little skill he had with the rifle — and that’s what truly terrified her. — One more step and someone’s going to be sorry!

— Don’t point that at me. It’s not funny anymore. — Penelope said, deadly serious. — Don’t aim at me!

— Relax. Don’t panic like that — Erikson said, raising the barrel upward.

Suddenly, something caught Penelope’s eye. A look of delight surfaced on her face. It seemed to her that one of the fairy tales she read to the children on late evenings was coming to life right in front of her. An albino lynx silently crept up on them from behind the trees. The animal was so snow-white that its presence against the snow could only be detected by two small dots on its muzzle. The animal continued to walk slowly past, and Penelope burned with the desire to get closer but was afraid to startle the beast. She didn’t take her eyes off it until Erikson said:

— Oh! There’s our lunch. — With these words, Erikson decided to take aim at the lynx.

— NO!!! — Penelope shrieked hysterically.

Erikson’s attempt to find a comfortable position resulted in him tripping over a frozen clump of snow. He managed to stay on his feet, though. But the rifle slipped from his tenacious hands and fell, hitting the icy surface of the snowy path. The trigger went off, followed by a shot. Penelope felt a coldness on her face caused by the dusting of snow that showered her after the bullet hit the ground and a puff of snow flew up over the girl.

Meanwhile, the lynx sped up and quickly retreated until it disappeared from view.

Penelope’s lips remained frozen open for a moment. Her numb mind kept repeating the thought of the bullet, whose presence she had distinctly felt.

Erikson rushed to the girl.

— Penelope! Are you okay!?

He grabbed her by the shoulders and, making sure she was unscratched, pressed Penelope tightly against him. Snapping out of her stupor, she took a sudden, deep breath, her eyelids began to flutter, and her heart pounded like mad. She didn’t notice Erikson stroking her back, hugging her tighter. But then, regaining her senses, she abruptly pushed him away and shouted:

— Idiot!

— Sorry. I… — Erikson rushed to say.

— Don’t come near me!

— I was just… — he tried to finish the sentence, but Penelope interrupted again:

— Stay away from me! — she shrieked hysterically, her voice nearly breaking. — You moron! — With these words, Penelope turned her back on him and walked in the opposite direction.

But Erikson was not about to give up. Hurrying after her, he shouted:

— Squirrel, please forgive me! — Then he ran up in front of her, held out the butt of the rifle, and pressed the muzzle to his chest. — Here, shoot if you want! Shoot, or I’ll do it myself.

Penelope looked at him as if he were insane. She carefully walked around him so as not to touch the rifle and immediately quickened her pace. Erikson ran after her, and as soon as he caught up, he immediately dropped to his knees, grabbed her with both hands around her hip, and said, continuing to crawl after her:

— Come on, Squirrel, what do you want me to do? Just tell me.

— GET AWAY FROM ME!!!

It seemed to Erikson that a little more and he would have gone deaf. Yet, even that wasn’t enough for him to let go of his Squirrel. He then stood up, blocked Penelope’s path, crouched slightly, and forcibly hoisted her onto his shoulder. She called for help, screamed, kicked, and threatened to bite. But it was all in vain. Erikson started walking back, carrying the rifle barrel on one shoulder and Penelope on the other; she was kicking her legs and slapping his back, ordering him to put her down on the ground.

Suddenly, a loud crunch sounded somewhere among the trees — so loud it even made Penelope stop talking. She abruptly ceased hitting Erikson’s back, hanging on his shoulder like the carcass of a slain animal. She looked in the direction the cracking noise came from but saw the picture upside down. Nonetheless, her eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets.

— Shouldn’t it be asleep? — Penelope uttered in a trembling voice.

Erikson set her down on the ground, after which she immediately hid behind him. He held the rifle out in front and, without bothering too much with aiming, pulled the trigger. The shot never came.

— You forgot!? — Penelope screamed, hitting Erikson’s shoulder from behind. — You shot at me! It’s empty!

— Stop slandering me! I didn’t shoot at you!

— This is no time for this! Reload!

Taking the spent shell casing out of the rifle, Erikson frantically patted his pockets in search of cartridges, having forgotten exactly where he’d put them.

— Erikson? — Penelope croaked, tightly gripping his jacket with her hands, peering from behind his back only out of the corner of her eye at the bear cub that had stood up on its hind legs. — Erikson!

— I… I’m almost there.

After inserting a cartridge on the sixth try, Erikson had to strain considerably to close the butt and the barrel. By that time, the cub was already walking toward them. Penelope screamed her lungs out, and Erikson, still without worrying about the aim, fired in front of them. The cub froze immediately after the bullet hit the ground and the snow flew up in front of the animal. The deafening sound thoroughly frightened the cub and made it run far away from that spot.

Neither Erikson nor Penelope was able to distinguish between a grown bear and a cub, so for them, it was an encounter with a terrifying man-eater, the only thing more frightening than which was the virtuosic handling of a rifle when it was in Erikson’s hands.

Watching the cub’s retreating figure, Penelope hugged Erikson tighter from behind, burying her nose in his shoulder.

— Well, that’s it — Erikson said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. — You have nothing to fear as long as I’m near. My Squirrel…

Suddenly, Penelope pulled away from Erikson, hit him on the shoulder with her mitten, and shouted:

— That’s the whole point! You’re a clumsy excuse for a hunter! Either get rid of the rifle or learn how to use it!

— Are you out of your mind? If I didn’t have the rifle right now, what would we have done?

— Then I won’t go on any more dates with you.

— We’ll see about that — Erikson said confidently, reloading the rifle.

Penelope gave him a grimace of indignation. But before she could answer him, he continued:

— Who else would be willing to commit suicide for you?

Now Penelope was confused.

— What are you talking about?

— You’ll see — Erikson answered, pressing the rifle barrel to his chin.

Penelope ran up, snatched the barrel, and pointed it away, and Erikson, taking advantage of the moment, grabbed her arms and wrestled her down onto the snow, pressing his lips against hers until she began to protest. Erikson didn’t tear himself away from Squirrel’s lips for a long time, but soon he felt those lips curl into a smile. Penelope laughed, then said:

— I thought it was the end!

— You would have been perfectly safe. While the cub was busy with me, you would have managed to run to the village. It would have been the end for me, but you…

Penelope interrupted Erikson’s heroic statements:

— Actually, I meant when you shot at ME.

— I didn’t shoot you! — Erikson almost yelled, irritated. Anger suddenly flashed on his face, which instantly vanished as soon as Penelope abruptly lifted her head from the snow and kissed him. While Erikson was regaining his composure, Penelope took advantage of the moment and pushed him off her. Erikson plopped down onto his back, and Penelope fell on him, resulting in them switching places. Now, her laughter was the most genuine.

He wanted to kiss her, but Penelope raised her head and said:

— Forgot? Your Squirrel bites.

— I have my own teeth, too.

These words made Penelope laugh even harder, and she pressed her lips against Erikson.

Soon they got up from the cold snow. Erikson looked around for his rifle, threw it over his shoulder, and hugged Squirrel with his other arm, after which they walked back to the village. Suddenly, Erikson was struck by an epiphany. He said:

— You know, we really are made for each other. We’re already starting to argue like a husband and wife. The quarrels have started, so we must be compatible. All that remains is for us to get married.

14. A Little Girl’s Big Secret

Dusk was settling over the village. Franz, Oliver, and Morten were still playing snowballs somewhere nearby, and the moon was already gleaming above the horizon. Knowing that her mother no longer allowed them to linger outside at this hour, Wanda hurried home, mentioning this to Ursula. Ursula looked around and thought it was indeed time to head home.

After saying goodbye, the girls scattered in different directions. Wanda couldn’t feel her nose or her flushed cheeks. Still, she was in no hurry to go home, continuing to walk at a slow, tranquil pace. Her gaze was fixed on the moon, and in her ears was the incessant crunching that arose under her small feet every time she stepped on the snowy surface. Soon, her attention was caught by several figures walking ahead of her. From the back, she recognized only one: her father. Shortly after, Wilhelm and three other men approached the entrance to the barn. It was only when they turned sideways to enter that Wanda recognized the others as Andreas, Herman, and Thomas.

She became tremendously curious about what the family fathers were doing on these evenings. For a moment, Wanda thought that they were most likely hiding from the rest of the village because there was something so interesting in the barn that they didn’t want to share with anyone else. And she wanted to find out what exactly was the object of greed for the elders.

Wanda ran to the back wall of the barn, where there were several very thin slits between the thick boards. She couldn’t see much through them, but it was something, because, amongst other things, the sounds from inside carried perfectly to the outside. All Wanda could understand so far was that the fathers were playing some kind of game, the point of which she couldn’t make out. Judging by the expressions on her father’s and Thomas’s faces, Wanda came to the simple conclusion that they were currently losing. Gustav was another story, waiting with great interest for Ragnar to set the dice, which he was so carefully shaking in a cup, onto the table. Even after watching the game for a long time, she still couldn’t grasp its meaning, but she remained certain it was something very interesting; how else to explain the heads of the families’ reluctance to invite others to this amusement? Soon, something important happened. Gustav uttered Penelope’s name. Wanda couldn’t understand what Penelope had to do with anything. However, almost immediately, her father, Andreas, Thomas, and Herman began to rise from the table one after another, but before they could reach the door, Gustav shouted after them: “And everyone keep quiet! That is what custom dictates! If we can’t sacrifice food, then we must sacrifice blood! And we must hurry! We don’t have much time!”

Wanda hadn’t heard stories about the sacrifice from eyewitnesses. It had all reached her in the form of some old legend. But, due to her age, Wanda perceived any legend as the harshest reality. The girl was able to put two and two together very quickly.

While Andreas was restraining Thomas’s reckless impulse to slit Gustav’s throat, Wanda, running headlong, was already rushing home at full speed, but not at all because her mother would scold her. Her mother’s displeasure was the last thing on the eight-year-old girl’s mind at that moment.

— Wanda! — a voice called from somewhere nearby. — Come with me! — shouted Willy, who had run away without permission, heading for the sledding hill. Neither the weather nor the time of day could stop him. The snow hill was the strongest magnet for that boy. However, Wanda didn’t even notice him. She only knew that she had to run forward with all her might before it was too late.

Without closing the door behind her and without taking off her boots, Wanda literally burst into the house screaming:

— Mom! Mom!

Standing by the oven, Ava forgot about the bread as soon as she heard the frantic cries of her youngest daughter. Ava grew even more alarmed after she noticed tears streaming down Wanda’s cheeks. She lowered herself into a squat as much as her pregnant belly would allow and hugged her daughter, asking what was wrong.

— Penelope — Wanda murmured through her tears.

— What? What happened to Penelope?

Wanda was sobbing but could barely speak a word. Ava felt the cold air rush into the house and quickly closed the door, then immediately returned to Wanda, trying to soothe her. She took off Wanda’s hat, fur coat, and boots. Then Ava pressed Wanda’s cold hand to her lips, after which she kissed her forehead. The crying was already less intense. Ava sat her daughter on her lap and said:

— There, there, little bird. Don’t cry. Now, tell me what happened.

— They want to give Penelope away.

— Who are “they?”

— Dad and everyone else.

— Wanda. Wanda! — Ava repeated a little louder, trying to bring her daughter back to her senses. But then, Ava began to suspect what her bright girl was talking about, and she asked in a quiet voice: — Who do they want to give Penelope to? — She wiped the tears from Wanda’s cheeks, after which she heard:

— The evil spirit.

Ava felt her breathing quicken. Her heart pounded harder and harder with every beat. Her eyes darted around. She didn’t know how to respond to Wanda, who suddenly murmured, a tremor returning to her voice:

— I don’t want Penel…

— Shhhh… — Ava hissed, pressing her finger to Wanda’s lips. — Listen to me very carefully. Alright?

Wanda gave a jerky nod in agreement.

— No one must know what you heard.

— But…

— Listen to me — Ava interrupted. — If anyone finds out, we won’t be able to help Penelope at all. I will warn her. But you must not tell anyone. Not even your sisters. Only you and I need to know about this. Agreed?

Wanda nodded once more. Ava hugged her and kissed her forehead.

Suddenly, Ava remembered Irma, Astrid, and Frida and looked at the door that led to the children’s bedroom. She briefly left Wanda and went to the door. Entering the room, Ava confirmed that the girls were occupied with their own things and had paid no attention to their sister’s hysterical crying.

15. Watching Death

The next day, Ava noticed that the flour supplies were almost depleted, and she had to go to the barn since all the girls had run off to play outside. However, she thought that it was even better this way, as it wouldn’t hurt her to get out more often to breathe some fresh air, no matter how cold it was outside.

As Ava walked towards the barn, everything was calm around her. About a dozen children were milling about outside, playing snowballs, while someone else was building a snowman. Little Willy stood out from the crowd, climbing the hill for the hundredth time, dragging his sled behind him. Soon Morten ran up to him and told him to rush home immediately, saying that their mother would give him a beating if he left without permission again. Willy said he was already going, but just wanted to slide down the hill one more time. However, after Morten mentioned that their mother would give him one extra spank on the butt, Willy immediately changed his mind about sliding down and followed his brother home.

Coming out of the barn with a small sack of flour, Ava once again gave herself over to thoughts about the previous night, when Wilhelm had returned home. This time, Ava observed him especially carefully. She didn’t ask him anything, not to avoid arousing suspicion, but simply because everything his wife wanted to know was written on Wilhelm’s face.

— Hello — a joyful voice rang out.

Ava raised her gaze and saw Penelope. She was walking with a brisk step, full of energy and radiating positivity.

— Hello — Ava replied when they drew closer. She tried to force a smile, but it came out too false.

Approaching her, Penelope stopped and said:

— Tell the girls to drop by this evening. I’ll read them a fairy tale.

Having promised to pass on her message to the children, Ava barely registered her own words. She scrutinized every feature of Penelope’s face: eyes, eyelashes, lips, nose, chin. She examined that chestnut hair. Her gaze was so intense that Penelope couldn’t help but notice it.

— Are you okay? — A short silence followed, after which Penelope spoke a little louder, placing her right mitten on Ava’s shoulder: — Hey, Ava?

Ava flinched when she finally realized that Penelope was addressing her.

— What? Yes, it’s okay.

After looking her up and down, Penelope said:

— You need to rest. And not only you — she added, glancing at her belly.

— No, no. It’s okay.

They said goodbye, and Penelope continued on her way. Ava kept watching her, scrutinizing her silhouette. She parted her lips, intending to call out to Penelope, but suddenly changed her mind. In that same instant, Ava felt a giant weight settle upon her heart.

— Penelope!

Penelope turned around. A questioning look was on her face.

For a moment, Ava tried to think of what to say.

— Would you mind helping me? — she asked, pointing to the small sack of flour.

Penelope ran up to her and took the small sack from her hands. They walked toward the house as Penelope asked, gesturing with her eyes toward Ava’s belly:

— How is the little one doing?

— The strength is increasing every day. It seems certain it will be a boy.

Penelope laughed. Ava wanted to join in. She tried but couldn’t. Instead, another idea occurred to her to avoid giving herself away:

— I’m afraid you’ll have to read fairy tales to yet another little tyke.

— I’m all for it. — After these words, Penelope took a deep breath and then added: — Ah, I hope I’ll have my own little tykes soon, too. We’ll get married in the spring, and the main thing after that is not to wait long. — Penelope laughed at her own words and looked at Ava, expecting a reciprocal reaction. But Ava’s smile seemed too strained to her, and then her eyes dropped completely.

Having reached the house, Penelope helped carry the flour inside, but before she could say goodbye, Ava took her by the elbow and asked:

— Will you take a walk with me?

In her confusion, Penelope said nothing in response, but her entire demeanor made it clear that she would be delighted. Her confusion escalated into outright anxiety when, after leaving the house, Ava began to constantly look over her shoulder, as if someone were following them. Penelope stopped comprehending anything, so she no longer asked questions but simply followed Ava. She had already forgotten that Erikson was waiting for her. After all, after he had nearly put her in the grave, Penelope felt that she now had an excuse for her mistakes for the next six months and could silence Erikson by reminding him of the incident every time.

Ava pulled Penelope in the opposite direction from where the children were gathered. She said nothing, which only heightened Penelope’s nervousness.

It wasn’t until they were far enough away from the village and deep within the dense forest that Penelope began to feel uneasy and said:

— Listen, Ava. It’s no longer safe here. Yesterday, we…

— Shhh… — Ava hissed.

Penelope felt Ava’s hand gripping her own tighter and tighter.

— Why are you so tense? Please, explain what…

Ava silenced Penelope with a sharp gesture. She looked around one more time, making certain that no one was nearby. Noticing a fallen pine trunk nearby, Ava suggested they sit. They brushed the snow off the trunk and sat down. Ava held Penelope’s hands, hidden in warm mittens, took a deep breath, and then declared:

— They drew lots.

Penelope’s eyes bulged. Her lips remained agape for a moment until she managed to say:

— Maybe you should start with what came before that.

A grimace of both exhaustion and despair washed over Ava’s face, which was reflected even in her voice when she said:

— You know exactly what I mean. — A silence hung in the air. Emptiness was visible in Penelope’s eyes. Soon, Ava continued: — They chose a virgin.

Unlike Wanda, this was no mere legend for Penelope. She had heard about a similar case directly from Erikson’s grandfather, Andreas’s father. This was not a scary story for children. A living witness had told her about it. Although Penelope was still quite young then, she remembered Friedrich’s account clearly.

Penelope’s lips twitched, but no sound came out, just like her eyes, which darted nervously from side to side. She seemed unable to catch her breath. Ava tried to pull her close, but Penelope recoiled. Soon, she looked into Ava’s eyes and murmured through a tremble:

— Me? — After a short pause, once again: — Me?

With bitterness etched on her face, Ava nodded affirmatively.

Penelope shook her head, refusing to believe it.

— But what about those sacks they set aside?

Ava murmured with a heaviness in her chest:

— It’s a distraction, so as not to spook the virgin. Think about it yourself. How many of us live in the village and how much harvest we’ve gathered? Plus, the wolves killed part of the sheep flock. Notice that everyone takes as much food from the barn as they need, and no one is calling for conservation. We won’t last until spring if they get rid of that much provision. Now it’s clear why Wilhelm and the others were out hunting from dawn till dusk for several days in a row.

Tears began to well up in Penelope’s eyes, and a scream tore from her throat.

— No! He couldn’t! HE COULDN’T DO THIS TO ME!!!

Startled, Ava looked around, gesturing for Penelope to quiet down.

— He couldn’t!

Ava forcefully pulled Penelope against her, trying to soothe her. The tears continued to pour out. At some point, Penelope began to press her whole body against Ava. A tear then rolled down Ava’s own cheek. She tried to compose herself, then made Penelope look at her and said:

— Listen.

Penelope’s eyes refused to look anywhere. Her eyelids wanted to drop and be crushed by stones heavier than a tombstone.

— Look at me — Ava insisted. — Sweetie, run away from the village. Tonight. I’ll give you a horse and cart and enough supplies for a couple of days. I’ll talk to Wilhelm. He’ll understand. Go south, to the village where I grew up. Ask my sister for sanctuary. She won’t refuse.

Penelope listened, but these words made her tears flow with renewed force. Ava fell silent and began to reflect. Ultimately, she decided to take Penelope to her home and keep her there until she recovered or until Wilhelm returned. But first, she helped wipe away Penelope’s tears and asked her to compose herself so that no one would suspect anything while they walked down the street.

Fortunately, there was no one on the street except for the children engrossed in their snowball fight. Ava led the devastated Penelope into the house, helped her remove her rabbit hat and fur coat, and went to brew rosehip tea. While Ava stood by the oven, which had nearly gone out while she was away, Penelope, sitting at the table and staring fixedly at one spot, murmured in a hoarse voice:

— He couldn’t have done this to me. — Her shattered gaze looked straight ahead, but she was unable to register anything.

Soon Frida came running and asked Ava for permission to play outside a little longer. Without paying attention to her daughter’s reddened cheeks, Ava agreed without the slightest hesitation.

16. Truth in the Eyes

After making sure that the redness on the skin around her eyes had subsided, Ava agreed to let Penelope go. Before she left, Ava asked her to do everything she wanted to for the last time, and to come to her in the evening for the horse and cart. Penelope nodded in agreement, but she had no intention of returning to Ava — at least not that night.

Still refusing to believe, she craved further proof of Ava’s words. Just then, Martin walked past her. She had always disliked him, and Penelope had no doubt that the feeling was mutual. She walked toward him, keeping somewhat to the edge of the path. She walked, intently watching her neighbor’s face. At the same time, she remembered Ava, and to keep Ava safe, Penelope tried her best to maintain a calm face and a relaxed demeanor. Forcing a happy expression was impossible for her in that moment, but she absolutely managed a confident stride. They were close enough now that Penelope began to examine Martin’s face. He was looking at her. Right at her. Into her eyes. And he smirked faintly. All her life, every single day whenever Penelope crossed Martin’s path, his face had always expressed indifference, discontent, anger, or hatred. But he never smiled. Penelope didn’t even notice her steps slowing down.

Suddenly she thought that she should look at the face of someone who cared for her. The first person who came to mind was Andreas. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but at that very moment she was passing by their house, and at that very moment Andreas came outside to fetch firewood.

She couldn’t let such an opportunity slip away when their meeting looked like pure chance. So, Penelope quickened her pace. She walked right up to him and greeted him. It surprised even her, but she smiled with absolute sincerity. Unlike Martin, this elder was always glad to see her, even back when his eldest son wasn’t courting her yet.

— Ah, hello, beauty. — Andreas spoke these words with a strained tone. It occurred to Penelope that maybe Andreas was simply worn out. At the very least, his face looked somewhat haggard. The multi-day hunt might have taken its toll.

— How have you been? — Penelope asked.

Andreas pondered for a moment before answering:

— No change. — After a short pause, he asked: — And you?

— So-so. — Penelope needed to keep Andreas talking and stretch out their conversation. She thought of something that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. — Are you very busy?

— I’m always free for you.

— Did Erikson tell you about what happened in the forest yesterday?

Andreas frowned, then shook his head in the negative.

Penelope thought for a while about what to say that would both prolong the conversation and, at the same time, not give Erikson away completely.

— In general, could you teach my fiancé to shoot better? He has some trouble with it. After all, you never know — what if we start living together, and I want roast boar for dinner every day? I’m not fat, but sometimes I gobble like a bear after hibernation.

Andreas may have heard her, but his face did not react. He walked up to her, gently wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her tightly. Then he said with a certain tremor:

— I will. I will definitely teach him. — He rubbed his hands across her back and then said in a barely audible voice: — My girl.

Penelope felt a tremor in Andreas’s chest. This embrace, the likes of which she had never known, made her feel genuinely warm and wounded, so much so that she didn’t want Andreas to release her from his arms. He was hugging her the way fathers probably hug their daughters. She longed to shed a tear, but there were no tears left.

The sun was already approaching the horizon when Penelope began to help her mother set the table. Regina easily believed that her daughter had quarreled with Erikson. That was when Karl finally returned from hunting all day. He only had one small hare in his hands. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, Penelope could not take her eyes off his face. She approached the table repeatedly, setting out dinnerware and placing dishes of food, but Karl, who was sitting at the head of the table, never looked at his eldest daughter. His gaze was cold and indifferent, but it was directed everywhere except at Penelope.

Dinner came to an end, and Karl still hadn’t looked at her. It seemed to Penelope that her father was ignoring her more than ever. Even on those days when he found a reason to yell at her, Karl paid her attention, even if that attention was not motivated by a father’s love for his child. At one point, Penelope wanted him to at least shout at her. It didn’t matter why, just so he would look her in the eyes.

With a knife in her heart, Penelope helped Regina clear the table and wash the dishes, after which she felt an urgent need to gasp for fresh air. She walked as if she were in a trance, and her legs carried her on their own. Willy rushed past her with a sled, having once again run away from home without permission. He spoke to Penelope, but she heard nothing. The whole world around her grew dim. There was nothing and no one nearby except cold and emptiness.

Soon Penelope felt someone tugging at her hand, and after some more time, fragments of phrases began to reach her. Wanda was standing next to her, speaking almost in a whisper, pressed against Penelope’s thigh.

— Will you play with me?

In a detached voice, she answered:

— I’m sorry, Wanda, I… I’m a little busy. Maybe later.

— Oh, please. No one wants to play with me.

The girl gripped Penelope’s hand tighter and began to pull her along. Penelope did not resist and followed Wanda. She didn’t notice how they ended up at the edge of the village, where there was nothing but cattle pens. But Wanda continued to lead her even further, stopping only when she led Penelope behind an old pine tree. There, the girl took something out of her pockets. She showed her and talked. She chattered a lot and without stopping. But Penelope only heard the first few words:

— I found this in the barn…

She stared at the blocks with names on them and heard nothing else. Her legs gave way and were no longer able to support her. Penelope fell to her knees like a weight and began to cry. She almost screamed, but Wanda threw her whole small body onto Penelope, shouting:

— Penelope! Please, don’t tell anyone!

But Penelope didn’t react to her words. She continued to weep, and it took some time for Wanda to get through to her.

— Don’t tell Mama. Please! Promise you won’t tell.

Penelope stroked Wanda’s cheeks with her hands and said tenderly:

— Don’t be afraid. Mama won’t find out anything. — She hugged Wanda, kissed her on the top of her head, and added: — This will be our secret.

17. Kindred Blood

She had never spent a sleepless night before. Until morning, Penelope was lost in thought, unable to grasp a single thread. And she wasn’t thinking about Ava, who was surely waiting for her to come for the horse and cart to leave the village. Penelope’s mind was paralyzed. She lay with her eyes open all night, and only towards morning did she fall asleep, but not for long. When she woke up, a flicker of hope dawned in her heart.

She spent the whole day attending to household chores. Her hands worked on their own, while her mind was lost in thought. A part of her soul insisted that no matter how harsh Karl was, he was still her father. She was his kindred blood, flesh of his flesh.

He wouldn’t dare — Penelope thought.

She wanted to believe that her father would reconsider his decision or devise some way to avoid carrying out the law of their ancestors and save his child. She wanted to believe it. But her cold, stern mind, which was trying with all its might to cool her warm heart, disagreed. It reminded Penelope of how, as a child, Friedrich, Erikson’s grandfather and Andreas’s father, had told her and the other children of two separate instances he had witnessed with his own eyes when girls were taken from their families. During one of those two winters, the elders sent his older sister to be fed to Nix. And Penelope remembered the tears that rolled down Friedrich’s cheeks as he recounted the tale with great pain. Perhaps, thanks to Erikson’s grandfather, she is able to understand that this is not a fairy tale, but the harsh reality the village lives in. Who to believe, if not a living witness? Was it worth hoping that her father would be any different from those parents who gave their children away half a century ago?

It can’t be! — Penelope nearly cried out to herself. — It’s impossible!

In the end, her cold, rational mind prevailed. Penelope decided that her father no longer needed her, which meant she would have to save herself.

18. Convulsions

— I’m tired of wandering around in the forest already — Penelope snapped.

— Well, — Erikson thought for a moment, — we could go to the lake.

— You couldn’t manage to shoot me, so you decided to drown me?

Erikson replied in an irritated voice:

— Could you please stop it already? I apologized.

— All right, all right — she conceded. — I just want to spend one normal, decent evening at home at least once.

Erikson suddenly became thoughtful. It was as if he had an epiphany.

— Listen. It just so happens that my parents won’t be home today. Father is going to Wilhelm’s, and Mother is also going to visit someone.

— What about Morten and Willie? — Penelope reminded him.

— We can go up to the attic. The chimney runs through it, so it’s warm up there, and there’s no draft. We’ll lay down two blankets, and it’ll be perfect. No one will bother us.

Penelope was lost in thought. She could hardly believe it. It was the best idea ever.

— Then that’s perfect — she said. — We’ll stay at your place.

After Erikson told her they could have privacy that evening, Penelope’s spirits soared. It seemed to her that the stars had aligned just for her. These thoughts stayed with her until the moment she entered Andreas’s house, where Erikson met her at the doorstep, helped her remove her fur coat, and then led her to the attic. By the time she arrived, he had already spread two blankets on top of each other and placed two oil lamps on either side.

— Well, how is it? — Erikson asked, presenting the location for their date that evening.

Penelope didn’t answer; she just pecked him on the lips.

That evening they decided to play checkers, which were already set up on the board.

She sat down on the blanket, tucking her legs under her, and asked, preparing to make the first move with the black pieces:

— So, are you learning to shoot?

Sitting down on the blanket opposite her, Erikson replied with a hint of sarcasm:

— No. I just decided to get rid of the rifle.

— What if we meet a bear again?

— I’ll be your bear.

— Then it’s best not to come near you.

— The bear doesn’t ask anyone. It comes when it wants to.

Penelope gave him a piercing look and said, curling her lips:

— You really are an animal, aren’t you?

Making his next move, Erikson replied:

— You have no idea how dirty an animal I am.

— I hope this animal can at least kiss — Penelope said, leaning closer to Erikson.

Gazing at her lips, he replied:

— I don’t know about kissing, but he can lick them without a problem.

This made Penelope laugh just before Erikson fastened his lips to hers. Then, unexpectedly, Penelope clasped her arms around his neck and pressed herself tighter against him. Erikson lost his balance and tumbled onto his back, still feeling the weight of Penelope, who was lying full-body on top of him. He felt his breathing quicken, and her hands began to creep under his clothes. If the kisses provided warmth, then in those moments, hellish heat was ignited. Penelope abruptly took off her sweater, and when Erikson touched her almost naked body, he felt even greater heat. He had no desire to stop at all, but he still put his hands on Penelope’s shoulders, slightly pushed her away, and said, struggling with his rapid breathing:

— No, Squirrel. Not now.

— Why? — Penelope asked. — What’s stopping us?

— We can’t.

— What difference does it make? No one will ever know anyway.

— We’ll share a marriage bed after the wedding.

— I don’t want to wait until spring.

— But we have to wait until spring.

Sighing heavily, Penelope continued to insist:

— I want it now.

— Look, — he said, trying to maintain a calm tone, — you and I have been kissing and making out for four years. What is one winter? Is that really too much for you?

A desperate grimace appeared on Penelope’s face. She spread her arms out to the sides, looked around, and declared:

— Do you think I asked to spend the evening at home just to play checkers? Erikson, I wanted us to make love. I wanted each of us to experience true intimacy. Don’t you want that? — Penelope said, pressing her lips sharply against Erikson’s. But he was unresponsive.

— What’s happening to you? — The bewilderment in his voice was clear. — Why did this suddenly come into your head? Tell me.

Penelope’s lips parted, and it seemed as if something was about to come out, but they immediately sealed shut. She looked away, then looked at him again.

— I’m a living girl. I want to feel something more than just lips. Don’t you want the same? — she asked, running her fingers over her almost completely bare torso.

Erikson licked his lips, shook his head, and said:

— You didn’t answer my question.

Penelope let out a loud sigh and replied irritably:

— Damn it, can you just fuck me!?

Remembering Morten and Willie, who were downstairs, Erikson said in a firm and slightly harsh tone:

— Speak more quietly; they will hear us.

— I don’t care! — the girl’s desperate cry rang out. She jumped onto Erikson and, pressing her whole body onto him, tried to crush her lips against his, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and wouldn’t let her come close. He began to shake Penelope lightly by the shoulders, saying:

— Are you nuts!?

From somewhere beneath the hair that had fallen over Penelope’s face, Erikson noticed a tear roll down her cheek and her lips tremble.

— What’s wrong? — he added in a softer tone. — Squirrel, tell me what happened?

But Squirrel remained silent. He wiped the tear from her cheek with his finger and said:

— Come on, I can see that something is wrong.

She leaned closer to Erikson and whispered, placing her palm on his left cheek:

— I just love you. — After a short pause, she added: — Do you hear me? Only you.

— Squirrel… — Erikson began, but stopped mid-word and pulled Penelope into a hug. Soon he felt the warmth of her lips on his neck.

— Penelope! — Erikson yelled and pulled her away by the shoulders.

She continued to silently shed tears as she put her sweater back on. Without a word, she suddenly stood up and headed for the door.

— WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!? — Erikson yelled after her, his voice nearly breaking. But Penelope refused to hear anything.

19. Invited Demon

The next day, Penelope was completely overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness and hatred for everything. Her soul resembled a flower in which life was rapidly and relentlessly fading. Everywhere she looked, emptiness arose before her eyes. Her gaze fell upon the sky, the snow, the houses, the people, and the trees, but everywhere she saw a world where she no longer belonged. She had no lover now, just as she had no father. She did not want to see Erikson, and she did not want to stay home.

She decided to go to the river so that no one could disturb her solitude. But just as Penelope was leaving the village, Ursula ran up and asked:

— Where are you going?

— Just for a walk.

— Can I come with you?

Putting her arm around Ursula’s shoulder, Penelope said:

— Of course, sweetie. Let’s go.

They reached the bank, in front of which stretched a smooth expanse of ice. A bright light, reflected from the sun’s rays on the ice surface, struck their eyes. There was a complete calm, and not a cloud was visible in the sky. The frost was so mild that it barely registered under the sunlight.

Having reached the shore, Ursula immediately ran onto the frozen river, while Penelope approached a fallen pine trunk and sat on it, only to sink even deeper into the abyss of her despair. Her gaze fixed on the snow beneath her feet, which felt as empty as everything around her; ultimately, it didn’t matter where she looked. Penelope was blind. Likewise, her heart was blind to everything that had once given her joy and a zest for life. The flower was dying, and with every passing second it was less troubled by new wounds, which could no longer heighten a pain that had already peaked. She felt nothing, and even her thoughts seemed to have frozen. Penelope had turned into a wooden doll with motionless eyes. She did not feel, did not see, and did not plead for anything.

She sat there on the pine trunk for some time until she heard a crack. Penelope looked far ahead.

— Ursula! — There was a deathly silence. — URSULA!!! — Penelope dashed toward the river. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She struggled to gasp for air, shouting and glancing around: — URSULA!!!

Running closer to the river, Penelope noticed pieces of ice drifting on the water. Tearing off her fur coat and little boots, she plunged into the water. Her squinted eyes saw no sign of Ursula. Penelope then looked down and began to sink closer and closer to the bottom. Soon a white spot began to become visible before her eyes. She worked her arms and legs with all her might, ignoring the cold. Grabbing Ursula under the armpits, Penelope rushed to surface. A moment later, her fingers felt her sister’s body convulse. She was swimming at the limit of her ability. Ursula’s body convulsed once more. Her lungs continued to fill with water. A few seconds passed, and Penelope struck the ice. She then descended a little deeper, searching for the hole in the ice through which she had dived. But she saw nothing. The current had carried Ursula far from that spot. Clinging to the ice, Penelope began to strike it with her shoulder, trying to put all her weight behind it, but the ice seemed to have turned into a concrete wall. Ursula’s body made no more jerky movements. In desperation, Penelope screamed, releasing bubbles, and began hitting the ice with her elbow harder and faster. A crack sounded. With the next blow, Penelope broke the ice, and her head appeared on the surface. Greedily gulping for oxygen, she dragged Ursula to the surface. Laying her on her back, Penelope pressed her lips to her sister’s, pinched her nose, and began to perform artificial respiration.

— Ursula! Ursula!

After several rescue breaths, she began pressing down on her sister’s chest, and with each attempt, she pressed harder.

— Ursula! No!

But ten-year-old Ursula lay completely motionless.

In desperation, Penelope struck her sister’s chest with her palms with all her might, then continued to perform artificial respiration. Ursula’s lips were cold as ice. Her hands lay at her sides and refused to lift.

— Ursula! — Penelope repeated through her tears. — Don’t leave! Don’t leave, do you hear me!

It became clear that Penelope’s supply of tears had not yet run dry.

— UR-SU-LA!!! — Penelope screamed, nearly tearing her throat, clutching her sister’s cooling body to her chest. — UR-SU-LA!!!

He was looking. Looking at her. Straight into her eyes. He was looking before he delivered a slap that spun Penelope around and knocked her off her feet.

— You were supposed to be watching her! — Karl shouted, standing over Ursula’s body in front of the house. — Where were you!? Where were you!? Where were you!? — Karl repeated endlessly, not giving Penelope a chance to respond. He simply held her by the sweater and continued slapping her. Each blow became harder, and Penelope felt like he was enjoying it and wanted more. His hands seemed eager to strike again as quickly as possible, as if Karl was in a hurry. — You bitch! Answer me!

Karl swung again, but Martin stopped him. He grabbed Karl by both arms and had to struggle to pull him away from Penelope.

— Don’t touch her — Martin said, practically screaming into Karl’s ear. — She is your blood. Your own.

After these words, Penelope, still holding the cheek that burned from her father’s blows, looked at Martin and felt a surge of hatred like she had never experienced before.

Fighting the shivers that went all the way to her fingertips, Penelope timidly crawled on all fours toward her mother, who was kneeling and clutching Ursula’s cooling body to her, weeping and refusing to believe what had happened. Soon, Regina noticed her eldest daughter crawling toward her. Regina abruptly placed her left hand on Penelope’s neck and pulled her close, burying her face in her daughter’s shoulder, after which her own crying grew even louder. Penelope was crying too. She cried with relief. She cried and screamed. She wanted to join Ursula.

The next morning, Ursula’s body was given to the fire, and her ashes were scattered over the river. Ava, Selma, Charlotte, Yvette, and Magdalena approached in turn and hugged Regina, and then Penelope. Clutching Penelope close, Ava did not want to let her go for a long time.

— You little fool. Why didn’t you come? — she whispered through tears, unheard by the others.

But Andreas hugged Penelope even tighter. He kissed her on the forehead, stroked her back, and paid no attention to Karl.

— Don’t cry — Andreas murmured. — Don’t cry, my girl. — He spoke the truth. In those moments, Penelope was his girl, and she felt it. It seemed to him that if he released the girl from his embrace, someone would immediately tear her apart. In those moments, his hatred for Karl only intensified.

Grief-stricken, Penelope entered the house late that evening and, without undressing, lay down on the bed right in her fur coat, hat, and little boots. She had believed the worst thing that could happen to her had already occurred. But Ursula’s death broke through the bottom she had reached, plunging Penelope even deeper and burying her in an ocean of tears, fear, sorrow, and despair. Sometimes, to find yourself in hell, you don’t need to be near a fire at all. Earthly life can turn into hell anywhere, at any time.

Lying on her side with her legs drawn up, Penelope tried to sleep, hoping that at least in her dreams she would reach the edge of the abyss, take the final step, and put an end to this entire nightmare. She craved death and was no longer afraid of meeting Nix. She also thought about how much she wanted to spit in the face of the man who never became a father to her and tell him everything she thought.

20. Virgin

Before Penelope’s eyes was a gallows, next to which stood an executioner, dressed entirely in black with a hood covering his face. The executioner was politely inviting anyone who wished to place the noose around their neck. She took a step toward the gallows, but it felt as though she hadn’t moved closer but had backed away. As she kept walking, Penelope realized that with every step she moved further from the gallows and the executioner. It was as if someone was forcibly pulling her back. And suddenly Penelope opened her eyes to find Karl holding her hands pressed together while Gustav wrapped a rope around her wrists. At the same time, Ragnar and Henry were tying her legs below the knees.

— Mom! — Penelope screamed. — MOM!

Regina appeared in the bedroom doorway. She lunged at Karl, yelling:

— You bastard!

By this time, Gustav had already tightened the rope sufficiently to immobilize Penelope. Karl released her hands, grabbed Regina, and began forcing her out of the room.

— Hands off! — Regina continued to scream. — Get out! You scum! Get out of here!

— MOM!

Karl dragged Regina out of the room, and Gustav followed immediately, with the sons right behind him, dragging the kicking and struggling Penelope.

— MOM!!! MA-MA!!! MA-A-A!..

Regina didn’t stop trying to break free from her husband’s tenacious embrace.

— Penelope! PE-NE-LO-PE!!! GIVE ME BACK MY GIRL!!! BASTARDS!!!

The door to the hallway slammed shut, after which Regina could only hear her daughter’s muffled scream:

— Mom! Mom…

The cold pierced Penelope to her very bones. She was wearing a warm fur coat and fur-lined reindeer-hide boots, but she had slept in them for several hours and now found herself outside in the same attire. She was shaking, yet even that didn’t stop her from abruptly straightening her legs to kick Henry in the face. A trickle of blood ran from his nose, and he moved to strike Penelope’s face, but his father instantly stopped him.

— Don’t even think about it. She is for Nix. There must not be a single scratch on her. Do you understand me?

With a look of displeasure, Henry replied:

— I understand.

But Gustav still made sure to draw Ragnar’s attention to it, ordering him to keep an eye on his brother.

Before Ragnar took the reins, Gustav reminded them:

— And remember, you have to be back before dawn.

Ragnar nodded, while Henry was still preoccupied with his nose, which miraculously hadn’t broken. Penelope had missed that by the slightest margin.

Gustav stepped back, Ragnar struck the reins, and the horses pulled the cart away.

Penelope was shaking from the cold. The trembling didn’t cease for a second, penetrating her to the bone. She noticed neither the bumps in the road nor how the cart swayed from side to side. It seemed to her that she was experiencing a cold far more intense than the one that had enveloped her body when she emerged from the icy river with Ursula in her arms on that tragic day. But after some time, the trembling noticeably subsided. This greatly disheartened Penelope. She had hoped her body wouldn’t endure such cold, that her heart would finally stop, and with it the whole world that was driving her into the abyss. But she remained conscious and sank into her memories. Ursula came to life before her eyes, along with the flour from which she had never managed to make dough. Her mother came to mind, asking Penelope not to worry and letting her go play, covering for her with her father. She thought about what Wilhelm and Ava would name their son. Just a little more time and she would have seen that baby. Penelope recalled the day they encountered the albino lynx and the rifle with which Erikson had nearly sent her to her ancestors.

Better if it had gone off and hit me back then — Penelope thought.

She desperately wished he would be near, call her Squirrel, and hold her close. And she wouldn’t bite. But remembering Erikson, Penelope began to cry. Now she regretted how she had acted toward him. She felt hurt that their last meeting had ended in a quarrel. A tear streamed from her left eye, rolled down the bridge of her nose, and got lost somewhere among the eyelashes of her right eye, until it mixed with a second tear and rolled further down. The frost was intense, but her tears did not freeze.

The redness around Penelope’s eyes never faded. The further they drove her, the less she felt the cold. She wasn’t getting warmer, but the cold had also stopped piercing her body.

Penelope was not very familiar with this part of the forest. She didn’t venture this far often. Somewhere in the gloom, a wolf howled. Snow scattered from a pine branch when a raven landed on it and began to caw. Then followed another howl, this time from the other direction. A protracted creaking came from the cart and would not cease. The hoot of an owl was heard from somewhere nearby. On a distant, desolate hill, the white wolf continued to stand. It howled, its gaze fixed on the moon that hung high in the clear night sky. On the tracks left by the cart, a snow leopard caught the scent of Henry’s blood. Sniffing the air, the beast felt its hunger intensifying and moved forward. The snow leopard followed the scent at a leisurely, light run.

Penelope’s mind was in a semi-slumber, and she barely registered how much time had passed since she had been taken from the village. The cart stopped, and the creaking ceased.

Henry walked up and lowered the side gate, then attempted to pull Penelope out, but Ragnar stopped him. He ordered Henry to prepare the rope, while he himself lifted the girl out and tossed her over his shoulder, after which they left the road and plunged into the dense woods.

Penelope did not resist. It seemed to her that the less she struggled, the sooner the cliff would appear before her, and the sooner it would all be over. And she longed for that cliff.

She could hear the crunch of snow beneath Ragnar’s and Henry’s feet. The pine trees grew so densely that they had to weave between them.

— Alright, that’s enough — Ragnar said in a cheerful voice. — I think this spot will be perfect. Let’s use this one — he added, pointing to a tree that caught his eye.

He lowered Penelope and pressed her back against the pine trunk while Henry wrapped the rope around her several times. Ragnar then took his hands off the girl, and they began wrapping the rope together. They hurried to make sure they could return to the village before dawn.

Penelope stood without moving even a finger. She simply stared straight ahead and waited. Her body no longer felt any cold at all. It seemed to her that her blood had even cooled slightly, but this didn’t affect her extremities. She could perfectly feel the tip of every finger.

— I’m finished — Henry said, standing with the end of the rope right in front of Penelope, who was looking straight into his face. — You know, after you hit me, I wanted to screw you even harder. I love an obstinate bitch. It gets me excited. Poor Erikson, he lost such a female.

The corners of Penelope’s lips stretched noticeably, after which she suddenly spat, hitting Henry’s left eye precisely.

— Fucking cunt! — he yelled, raising his palm. Ragnar immediately grabbed his wrist and said:

— We were told clearly that there shouldn’t be a scratch on her. — In truth, Ragnar himself couldn’t shake the thought of how nice it would be to enjoy such a beauty far from the village, where no one would see or know anything. It would be a sin not to take advantage of such an opportunity. But for some reason, Nix required a virgin. The evil spirit had deprived Gustav’s sons of such a vivid dream, which was closer than ever, right there in their hands. And this was the greatest source of frustration for both of them.

Handing the second end of the rope to his brother, Ragnar hurried him:

— Come on, faster. We need to get back.

Having finished with the rope, Henry still couldn’t restrain himself and reached out to Penelope to lick her cheek. Noticing this, Penelope aimed and swung her head, hitting him with her forehead right on the nose.

Double!

Henry cried out, bringing both hands up to his abused nose, from which blood gushed again. But this time, Penelope had apparently broken it. She followed up with a spit, hitting the dried saliva on his left eye.

Double two!

Ragnar came over and, grabbing his brother by the collar of his wool jacket, forcibly dragged him back.

They disappeared from Penelope’s sight, heading toward the road behind her. Her ears caught the crunch of snow, which grew fainter with each step. But very soon the sound stopped completely. From somewhere behind Penelope came the snorting of horses turning the cart around.

That was it. She was alone. On the edge of that very abyss. There was nothing and no one else. Only her and the night forest, wrapped in snow, with a dense thicket of tall pine trees before her eyes. The moon emitted a bright glow, but the tops of the pines heavily muffled the moonlight falling onto the snow. Once again a prolonged howl was heard from the high hill. Then another one. It was a whole pack of wolves, but they were very far away.

Penelope felt a strange sensation. She felt every part of her body freezing, yet she had not lost control of her limbs. Steam stopped coming out of her mouth. She felt everything under her skin freezing. The cold pierced her blood and bones. But she did not shiver and had no desire to warm up. She was completely comfortable with her cooled blood and bluish skin. Yet, at the same time, this terrified her.

Suddenly, something flashed somewhere ahead. The pine trunks were thick and close to one another, limiting the view to thin gaps, and the further Penelope looked, the smaller those gaps became. The strange figure continued to flit between the trees. It was huge, closer in size to an adult bear. Soon, Penelope began to hear a faint, barely audible crunch of snow, which grew louder as the silhouette approached. In the semi-darkness at that distance, she could only make out its dimensions and general silhouette. It was taller than Penelope and moved slowly, heading straight in her direction. Penelope did not take her eyes off this figure. Her heart, which seemed to have completely cooled down, began to pound again, as if it was trying to break out of her chest, unable to withstand such fear. Penelope soon realized that it was a man.

— Help! — she screamed. — I’m here! Over here!

The stranger continued to walk at the same leisurely pace, bypassing the frequently encountered pine trees.

Penelope’s breathing quickened. Her body strained forward, as if wanting to break the knot and throw off the rope.

After a few moments, Penelope made out the figure. It was a gray-haired Elder with a long beard, taller than average. He was dressed in rags, so filthy that it was impossible to tell their original color. In one hand, The Elder held an empty, decrepit sack, and in the other, a staff, crooked in places and nearly as long as he was tall. He wore extremely worn boots. His fur coat was as dilapidated as everything else. But there was something about The Elder’s appearance that truly terrified Penelope: his face had no eyes. In their place were black hollows, filled with utter darkness and emptiness.

Everything is as Friedrich told it — Penelope thought.

The Elder continued walking, slowing only when he was a couple of steps away from being right up to Penelope. Her eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets. It was only in those moments that Penelope realized she had reached the pinnacle of fear. She could not believe this was happening in reality.

The Elder stopped and immediately brought his nose close to the girl’s neck, inhaling her scent. Penelope met death and felt its touch. Death was cold and sucked the life out of everything with its mere presence. A door appeared before her that could only be opened with a special key. For some doors, life is the key, and once you turn it, you cannot take it out. And sometimes this key is stolen to be inserted against the owner’s will. It’s enough to simply turn the key, and the threshold itself will rush to the key’s owner, wherever he may be. Doors behind which death dwells are the easiest to open. But today, for Penelope, this door was locked, and death could not embrace her.

The Elder withdrew his nose from the girl’s neck, straightened up, and turned his head somewhere behind her back. His gaze was impossible to see due to the absence of eyes, but it could be felt. He was looking forward. There was a loud exhalation. A huge plume of cold air burst from The Elder’s nostrils. That’s what Penelope thought, but after the blast touched her fingertips, she realized it was a torrent of cold air. The Elder was extracting cold, and nothing but cold. A moment later, he exhaled again, much more forcefully. Penelope felt that her fingertips would soon lose all sensation. These streams of air iced over everything in their path. Only small particles touched the girl’s fingers, but it was enough to feel how rapidly everything around was growing colder.

Penelope desperately wanted to scream, but something prevented her.

And so, The Elder took the first step and went on, vanishing from the girl’s sight.

As the moments passed, Penelope began to notice it was getting warmer under her skin. As The Elder walked further and further away, her blood warmed up faster and faster. She felt a strange sensation, as if her body had turned into a massive ice floe that was beginning to melt, and with every step The Elder took, it melted faster and faster. Soon, she noticed steam beginning to come out of her mouth.

Death finally released Penelope.

21. Loneliness in the Universe

A few days earlier.

When Ursula was still in good health and enjoying life, and Penelope was angry with Erikson, Martin, getting ready to go hunting with Gustav, Karl, Ragnar, Henry, and Konrad, ordered Ian to go to the barn and tend to the stove. Martin rushed his son, as there was no one in the barn at that moment, and Ian needed to hurry so he wouldn’t have to rekindle the fire in the stove.

Ian fetched boxes of dried fruit from the cellar at Magdalena’s request, then got dressed, preparing to leave for the barn.

After walking a short distance down the street, Ian noticed a familiar figure walking toward him. Looking a little closer, he recognized Penelope. She moved with a weak, slow step, as if deep in thought. As he got a little closer, out of the corner of his eye Ian noticed a bitter grimace on the girl’s face and saw her wiping away tears. He did not dare to greet her and continued walking toward the barn. Penelope also walked past without saying a word. Ian had almost forgotten that Penelope had just passed him and was somewhere not far behind, when suddenly she called out to him:

— Ian!

Ian spun around abruptly, and Penelope added:

— Hi.

— Hi — Ian replied in a slightly embarrassed tone, his eyes cast down.

Penelope remained silent for a while, her eyes darting nervously, and then asked with a slight tremor in her voice:

— How are you?

— Fine.

— What are you doing?

Ian was in deep confusion. For the first time, the girl he had been pining over his entire life was trying to start a conversation with him. He needed to answer something urgently, and it had to be something noncommittal. But it turned out the way it always did:

— I’m going to the barn.

— With someone or alone?

Trying to understand what Penelope was asking, Ian answered, though not immediately:

— Alone.

A pause fell, which lasted only a short time but felt like an eternity, especially for Ian. The boy desperately wanted this beauty to say at least one more word to him. He would be in seventh heaven even if she sent him away.

Finally, Penelope spoke:

— Can I come with you?

These words stunned Ian more than a gunshot, even if it had gone off right beside his ear. It took him a moment to process these words, which easily could have been a hallucination.

— Well… yes. Of course.

Penelope began to walk toward him with a leisurely pace, as if she were walking to the gallows, after which they went to the barn together. Ian was afraid to get close to the girl, and Penelope did not attempt to close the gap between them. She walked a little behind him, remaining silent and lost in thought. It was as if her body was compelled to follow this route, for all others were closed to her, leaving only a path like the dead end into which the whole conspiring world had cornered her.

They approached the barn. Once inside, Penelope checked all the corners of the room to make sure there was no one else. Ian opened the stove to check the fire. While he was adding wood, a familiar click was heard. Looking back, he saw that Penelope had bolted the door.

— Is something wrong?

Without answering, Penelope walked up and stood in front of Ian. She looked at him long and intensely. Her gaze was completely empty, like a blank sheet of paper. But there was a premonition that something depressing would be drawn on this paper.

Suddenly Penelope took a couple of decisive steps and, grabbing Ian’s shoulders, sat him down right on the floor.

— What are you… — but Ian didn’t have time to finish.

Still silent, Penelope took off his jacket, then began to pull down his pants. But then she realized she would have to undress herself. She took off her fur coat, then untied the lace at her sweater’s collar and lowered it to expose only her shoulders. Next, she took off everything below her waist. She undressed, trying not to think about anything.

The stove door remained open, forgotten by Ian. He had forgotten about everything in the world. Beyond this barn, nothing existed: no houses, no village, no forest. Nothing. There was only her. He had no doubt that all this was only a dream. But Ian wasn’t disappointed at all. The main thing was to finish before he woke up. If everyday life is worthless, let dreams at least provide the best illusion possible. But for some people, heaven on earth comes at times. They receive it because they become too accustomed to unbearable daily life, which becomes their ordinary reality. Ian was one of them. He happened to visit heaven. He had experienced a feeling of delight that pierces more intensely than the bitterest frost. At least, he was sure of it. This feeling grew and intensified.

Penelope was more focused than ever. She was disgusted and despised herself. She had never felt such hatred toward anyone as she felt toward herself in those moments. With every movement, she wanted more and more to take a knife and plunge it into her chest.

Heartless bitch — Penelope told herself mentally, continuing to glance toward the depths of the barn, trying not to think about what she was forced to think about.

And yet, harsh reality can be disregarded when something happens to you that eclipses the whole universe, when nothing else matters. It is in such moments that a person is ready to sell his soul without the slightest hesitation, without thinking about tomorrow. Ian would have sold it if there were anyone to sell it to.

His face displayed the peak of ecstasy, while Penelope cursed everything in the world and tried not to think about anything. Her eyes refused to look at the one to whom she gave her virginity. She simply rocked on the lying Ian again and again, until she felt the ejaculation inside her. At that moment, a series of loud moans erupted from Ian’s lips, and Penelope, not even allowing him to fully ejaculate, stood up and rushed to dress in a hurry.

Ian didn’t care about the firewood or the open stove door. He didn’t care at all about what his father had told him. He wanted to live and enjoy life. But his heavenly thoughts were interrupted when Penelope, grabbing her fur coat, ran toward the front door.

— Hey, what’s wrong? — Ian said in bewilderment.

Penelope’s shaking fingers, with difficulty and on an unknown attempt, finally managed to slide the bolt. In hysterics, she pushed the door open with all her might and ran outside, emitting a loud cry.

— We were so good together — Ian almost whispered to himself, lying pants-less on the floor in the middle of the barn.

22. Happy New Cold

The last rays of the sun vanished behind the horizon. The village was enveloped in evening twilight, accompanied by fine, swirling snow beginning to fall as a full moon rose in the sky.

All the residents were preparing for dinner. However, in some homes, the owners had no appetite.

Ludwig stepped out into the yard to replenish the house’s firewood supply. He picked up a couple of logs, then heard a crunch made by feet stepping on the fresh snow. The sounds came from the road. Ludwig looked in the direction they originated and saw the outline of a figure slowly emerging in the dim light. He dropped the logs from his hands, descended the steps, and walked a little further, closer to the road. An elderly wanderer was walking there, holding an empty sack in one hand.

— Hello. Where are you coming from? — Ludwig asked in a puzzled voice. Glancing at the empty sack, he was certain that something terrible had happened and that this elderly man had most likely been robbed on the road.

He hurried to meet the stranger to offer assistance, continuing to walk quickly until he was close enough to see his face. Ludwig grew wary, noticing the stick in his other hand. Then he looked at The Elder’s face, where he saw black voids instead of eyes, and was horrified. In an instant, he remembered everything Friedrich had talked about.

An impressive layer of ice was spreading out from under The Elder’s feet, covering everything around him. At some point, The Elder slightly opened his mouth and let out a weak exhalation. A stream of frosty air slowly enveloped Ludwig’s body. The young man felt a piercing cold that crept in so quickly he didn’t even have time to notice how rapidly his body was chilling. He froze solid in one position. His flesh turned to ice. The Elder approached Ludwig closely, stuck the stick into the snow, then placed one palm against his cheek and brought the sack to the opposite side with the other. He pressed lightly on Ludwig’s cheek, causing a crack to appear along his neck, and his head broke off. The Elder continued to press on the head until it tilted enough to fall downward. Soon, there was a barely audible sound as a weight dropped inside the sack. Under the pressure of the weight, the sack in The Elder’s hand immediately straightened. Simultaneously, a crimson stain began to spread on the sack where Ludwig’s head rested its moist side against the decrepit fabric.

A moment later, a thin trickle of blood began to flow from the neck of the ice-covered, headless corpse, leaking from the deepest part of the body where it hadn’t yet solidified. The drop raced down the neck, leaving a crimson streak, and descended along the hardened skin until it reached the edge of the shirt, dissolving into the fabric.

The Elder threw the sack over his shoulder, took his stick, and headed for the house’s threshold. He walked, expanding the icy shroud around him. The walls of the house, the steps, the porch, the door — everything near The Elder was rapidly coated with a layer of ice. Slowly and inexorably, he approached the house. His foot landed on the first step just as the last step was being consumed by ice. He placed his other foot on the second step, and the ice was already spreading across the porch. Everything The Elder neared was covered with ice before he even touched it.

The front door swung open abruptly. Sven was standing on the threshold.

— Ludw… — He didn’t have time to pronounce his older brother’s name before, as if hypnotized, he tilted his head back and gazed at The Elder’s face. The boy stared into the dark voids instead of eyes. This was the last thing Sven saw before his eyes turned to ice. The Elder leaned his stick against the wall, wrapped the edge of the sack around the boy’s neck with both hands, and with a sharp movement, broke off the frozen head. When he pulled the sack away, blood was already streaming from Sven’s fragile neck in multiple directions. Taking the stick in his right hand, The Elder stepped over the threshold and entered the house.

At the end of the hallway, a small door was open. It led to the cellar, where Thomas had gone down with a lamp in search of raspberry jam for Adele, who was in bed with a raging fever. Thomas moved the lamp over the shelves of small barrels, each containing winter stores. Finding the right barrel, he removed the lid, scooped some onto a plate, and replaced the lid.

Somewhere above, Sven’s voice was heard, but it broke off mid-sentence.

— Sven? What is it? — Thomas asked loudly, glancing at the open cellar entrance.

He took the lamp and hurried toward the stairs. Suddenly, Thomas felt a rush of cold air into the cellar. Surely his younger son had gone out to the yard again and forgotten to close the front door. But Thomas’s mind was preoccupied with Adele, who was plagued by a spiked temperature and, more recently, a cough. He quickly took the steps, trying to climb the stairs as fast as possible. The cold intensified, and Thomas decided he needed to close the door quickly before the cold could penetrate the far room where Adele lay under two blankets. Thomas thought the weather must have suddenly turned colder outside, or maybe the wind had picked up, causing his body to start shaking so suddenly. He reached the middle of the stairs when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone approach. Thomas began to lift his head. But a moment later, the movement of his neck slowed. His hands froze. The jam was coated with ice, and the lamp in his other hand went out. Thomas looked up… or rather, his eyes looked up. But they could no longer see anything. Thomas didn’t have time to grasp what was happening. His mind went blank an instant before his pupils froze in a fixed position.

The stick plunged into the head of the family father from above, piercing the ice-covered skin and skull. The Elder tilted the stick slightly, and Thomas’s head easily snapped off his neck, after which he raised the stick higher and lowered the head into the sack, shaking it several times until the head slid off and fell among the others, leaving a damp, bloody streak on the stick.

After giving Adele a decoction of rosehip and medicinal herbs, Selma returned to the pie. Instead of fresh strawberries, she used strawberry jam. The liquid batter was ready, and Selma lowered the baking sheet onto the edge of the stove where the heat was not as strong, continuing to stir the contents with a wooden spoon for a while longer. She thought that a portion of the pie should be sent with Sven for Ava and her girls.

Suddenly, it seemed to Selma that the heat from the oven was starting to weaken. She opened the door and noticed that the fire was indeed dying down. Taking the last couple of logs, she tossed them into the oven and closed the door, then returned to the batter. But she suddenly felt a bit too cool. Selma couldn’t believe she could have gotten sick while taking care of her daughter. The cold intensified. Her hands began rubbing against each other. Selma opened the oven door again to adjust the logs, which might have been lying incorrectly and preventing the fire from strengthening. But as soon as she opened the door, Selma was astonished to notice an abundance of steam inside. She brought her fingers to her lips to breathe warm air onto them. Within moments, goosebumps prickled her body. She felt her legs rapidly freezing, and she began to lose sensation in her feet. Her calves. Her knees. Her thighs. Selma felt as if she were plunging into icy water, where her legs lost sensitivity, starting from her heels. She wanted to pull herself away from the stove and go close the door. But her legs continued to lose sensation. The blood inside her was congealing, and her limbs were freezing. The last thing Selma thought was that she desperately wanted real, hellish heat.

The Elder’s palm landed on Selma’s forehead. He jerked his hand backward, after which his sack was filled with yet another head.

The fever had subsided a little, and the exhausted Adele felt drawn to sleep. Although her eyelids were already leaden, she could not fall asleep. Her consciousness was in a semi-slumber. Under two blankets, she was warm at first, but then it became unbearably hot. As soon as her mother left, she removed one blanket and pulled the second down to her stomach. Now she felt much more comfortable. But only a little time passed before Adele felt cold again. She bundled herself up to her neck, soon pulling the second blanket over herself as well.

Fatigue was taking its toll. She wanted to sleep. She was slowly drifting off. Too slowly. At some point, this was enough for her. Adele wasn’t striving to sleep. She simply felt warm and good. Her body was so relaxed that she was no longer able to hear any sounds. She neither heard nor saw anything, sinking deeper and deeper into slumber. Only at one moment did she experience a hallucination, as if a slight chill had crept through the blankets and enveloped her from head to toe.

Adele never opened her eyes.

23. Rejected Gift

Penelope’s blood warmed, and soon she began to shiver from the cold, shaking from head to toe. Although The Elder had not accepted her, she was still bound by rope to the pine trunk. But Penelope was not destined to meet her death in the forest that night.

Handing the other end of the rope to his brother, Ragnar urged him:

— Hurry up! We need to get back.

And Henry did hurry. He was always rushing. This time, he was in such a haste to fondle Penelope’s cheek that, in the dim light, he missed the loop while threading the rope’s end, preventing him from properly tightening the knot.

As she began to shiver from the cold, Penelope noticed that her right thigh shook suspiciously freely, unlike the rest of her body, which was tightly pressed against the tree. She moved the fingers of her right hand, searching until she found the loose end of the rope, and then the place where the rope could be slackened. Effort after effort, Penelope freed her legs, then gradually began to loosen the coils of rope that bound her torso.

Once free, she ran her palms over her thighs, which she had rubbed raw while working the rope loose.

Her body was growing colder and colder, and Penelope decided to run. It was the only way she could hope to fight the bitter night frost.

The trembling began to recede very quickly. She was helped by the fear, which forced her heart to beat harder and pump blood through her body much faster. Fear made both fatigue and cold retreat. It provided warmth and gave her the strength to keep running along the trail the cart had left. It was the only track on the road, which no one had traveled for a long time. She had been taken so far away so that the victim would be swallowed quickly and as far away from the village as possible. But she hurried back. She needed her mother. And Erikson. She regretted many things and was ready to burn for what she had done, if Erikson wished it, if only he would let her press herself against him.

Apparently, Penelope had lost all sense of time while tied to the tree. She didn’t even notice that dawn had broken. It was already quite bright in the forest. She wanted to rest a little. Penelope leaned against the nearest pine, pressed her head to it, and closed her eyelids, continuing to breathe deeply. Huge clouds of steam escaped her mouth. She felt hot. Everything inside her was boiling, just like in her head. But even this did not prevent Penelope from noticing the strange scene that appeared before her when she opened her eyes. A cart with horses stood ahead. She was certain it wasn’t Ragnar and Henry’s cart. They would have been back in the village long ago. But the scene looked strange. Penelope looked at the tracks in front of and behind the cart. There was only one rut ahead, while there were two behind. But she couldn’t understand why Gustav’s sons would need to stop. Suddenly, strange sounds began to reach her ears. She walked around the cart and continued walking a little farther from the road, passing pine after pine. Soon, from behind another tree, a twitching, bushy tail, like a cat’s, began to appear. Penelope moved closer and sharply pressed a hand to her lips. Her eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets. Before her was the snow leopard. It was gnawing at the body of either Ragnar or Henry. It was difficult to tell which was which, as they were approximately the same height and size, and both bodies were missing their heads.

Hearing the crunch of snow behind it, the predator spun around abruptly, spread its clawed paws wide, and growled, baring its fresh blood-covered fangs and bulging eyes.

Returning to the grip of fear, Penelope rushed to run away, and the snow leopard continued to tear pieces from the body it had started on.

Lost and disoriented, Penelope needed time to find the road.

She did not look back for a long time to ensure the predator was not pursuing her, and when she stopped to catch her breath, she noticed steam billowing from under her fur coat. The steam grew more abundant as soon as she unbuttoned the coat slightly, as if boiling water had poured onto the iceberg named “Penelope.” She was desperately short of oxygen. She was breathing at the limit of her capacity, but it was not enough. Her energy was not yet depleted, but she understood that she could not continue the journey at this pace.

Seeing a high hill nearby, scattered with bushes, Penelope decided to climb it. Reaching the summit, she looked around and was able to spot a lake in the distance, from which the village was only a stone’s throw away. Examining the terrain more closely, Penelope decided to take a shortcut, without considering who or what she might encounter on the way. She thought only about the quickest way to get to the village.

While Penelope was descending the hill, her eyes fell upon a pine tree with a strangely shaped trunk. She approached it and took a closer look. That fragment of the trunk even had a kind of unhealthy color. At first, she thought she was just imagining it, that Henry’s head was somehow stuck in the pine trunk. After the left eye on that head blinked, Penelope realized she hadn’t imagined it. On a neighboring tree, the girl noticed Ragnar’s head, which had almost completely taken on a treelike state and had fused with the pine.

What she saw made Penelope want to return to the village as quickly as possible, and her legs carried her along the shortest route.

She moved at a fast, walking pace, trying not to slow her stride and absolutely not to stop. She walked strictly forward, passing through places she had never been to before. Every time she came across another rise in the terrain, Penelope would climb it to check if she had strayed off course.

Her legs kept moving and would not stop. In those moments, there was no room left in her mind to consider rest, and as a result, her body proved to be stronger than ever before. Fatigue, thirst, hunger, and sleep all retreated before her. She covered an enormous distance without even dwelling on how much time she had spent, whether there were predatory beasts nearby, or if there was a more convenient route. Penelope moved like a wild animal, governed only by instincts, which are always stronger than reason. At that moment, she was driven by only one instinct, which dragged her toward the village by the shortest route and forced her to do so blindly, without considering anything else. And even now, when a lake appeared before her feet, she stepped onto the ice without hesitation, took one step, and then the next, continuing to walk as before, oblivious to how thin the ice might be. Instincts had taken such control of Penelope that she hadn’t noticed dusk falling. She was leaving the lake as the darkness had already begun to thicken. Somewhere ahead, the lights of the village were already twinkling. Only a short distance remained. But the shorter the remainder of the journey became, the more it frustrated her, even though, in her current state, covering that distance was a mere trifle. But Penelope needed to be on time. She had failed to watch over Ursula, and she absolutely did not want to be late again. She would never forgive herself a second time.

Having cut the route, Penelope entered the village from the opposite end, where the sledding hill was located, with cattle pens slightly off to the side. Penelope climbed the hill, moving a little further away from the well-worn slope, where she wouldn’t risk slipping. As soon as she had overcome the top of the hill and the first lights came into view, Penelope was overwhelmed by a sense of relief. In the distance, the silhouettes of several residents were visible, which meant she wasn’t too late. Penelope wanted to run, but she was held back by the unwillingness to run into anyone to whom she sincerely wished a happy and swift death. She walked along the very edge of the street without stopping. Each new silhouette forced Penelope to freeze in place. As luck would have it, it was at this very moment that the sky cleared, and the full moon began to cast a bright light that scattered the night’s gloom.

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the street, heading in her direction. Penelope flared and was about to hide, but then suddenly stopped to look closer. The figure seemed familiar to her. She screamed, joyfully waving her arms above her head:

— ERIKSON!!!

Now she was running with all her might, and nothing could stop her.

Hearing her voice, Erikson didn’t believe it. However, his eyes did not deceive him. She was right in front of him, about to crash into him. He quickened his pace, but by that time Penelope had already reached him and leapt onto him, holding him in a tight embrace.

— SQUIRREL! — The trembling in his chest wouldn’t let him breathe evenly, and his voice trembled with emotion. — SQUIRREL!

— Yes, it’s me! — cried Penelope, squeezing her eyes shut. But no matter how hard she squeezed her eyelids, they still couldn’t hold back the tears.

— I thought I’d never see you again! — With these words, he pressed his mouth to hers.

Penelope kissed him, and it seemed to her that the separation had lasted for years. She couldn’t believe he was holding her, and she wished the embrace would never end. But suddenly, she lowered her hands from Erikson’s shoulders, cut her lips away from him, and said:

— We need to run.

— Where? Why? — A pause fell, after which Erikson added, without allowing Penelope to answer: — Don’t be afraid. You’ll come home with me. I’ll talk to my father; he won’t object. You’re like family to him anyway. You won’t be going back.

— No! — Penelope cut him off. She continued through her tears: — We have to leave as soon as possible. Please. Just trust me.

Suddenly, Erikson grew thoughtful. His voice was slightly wary:

— Did you see?

Without saying a word, Penelope nodded in confirmation.

Erikson wanted to hug Squirrel, but Penelope took a half-step back and said, sobbing and wiping away tears:

— Promise me you won’t hold this against me.

— What? — Erikson asked in bewilderment.

— Promise me you’ll forgive me. — Her voice was shaking completely when she added in a pleading tone: — Please, Erikson.

He frowned, not understanding what was happening.

— Squirrel, whatever happened, we will forget about it. Do you hear me? Everything will be as before.

He gestured with his hands, inviting Penelope to come to him so he could embrace her. But Penelope continued to stand still, clasping her hands in front of her. She waited, thinking she wouldn’t have the courage, but she spoke anyway:

— Tell me, when you saw me, did you not wonder why I came back, and alive and unharmed?

Erikson didn’t reply. He just waited for Penelope to tell him everything herself.

She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat, and then continued:

— You remember that this requires a virgin. I…

Erikson interrupted her at this point:

— So that’s why, that last time, you…

Penelope nodded in confirmation, saying:

— Yes. That’s exactly why. — Her lips froze in place. She lowered her eyes, and they darted from side to side. Penelope tried to find the words, but the further she went, the more difficult the conversation became. Her chest seemed to constrict, allowing her to take only shallow, occasional breaths. She brought the back of her hand to her tightly closed lips and then began to weep. Gathering her strength, she managed to choke out through her tears: — I…

Erikson looked down.

— No… no… — he murmured. — No. No. No. No. — He kept speaking, shaking his head in denial: — No. No. No. This is not… You are not…

Penelope covered her face with her hands, muffling her loud crying.

Erikson felt a cold blade slide into his heart. Slowly. Without stopping. Inexorably. It plunged deeper and deeper, yet took its time before entering fully. A knife always enters the heart too slowly when you refuse to believe what you hear. And it seemed that this pain would never stop. Erikson felt the touch of that blade, causing a pain that prevented him from resuming his breath for a long time. Penelope’s hands slid slightly, revealing her eyes, which were completely covered in tears. But even through her hands, her crying was audible. She slightly parted her fingers to utter through her trembling:

— I’m sorry. — She didn’t take her eyes off his face, hoping to find the one thing she desperately longed for. — Erikson. I beg you, forgive me…

— Who is he!? — Erikson shouted, keeping an enraged gaze fixed on Penelope. However, he immediately paused in the sudden rush of thoughts and said: — Wait, no! Don’t tell me! I don’t want to know anything! — Love and anger were mixed in his eyes. But there was only room for one of them. Love for Penelope overwhelmed him every second from the moment she suddenly appeared before him. But as soon as he thought about the fact that someone had already possessed his beloved, his attraction to Penelope began to rapidly weaken. The feeling that her heart belonged to him simply vanished. Something still remained in his consciousness. Something that reminded Erikson of the life he had dreamed of in recent years. It was like a common tree that had already begun to grow from two hearts at once, but in an instant had burned to the ground. — How could you? — Erikson murmured in a quiet voice as a tear rolled down from his left eye.

— I was going to…

— Why didn’t you tell me!? — he shouted, as a tremor shook his voice. — Did I not love you enough!? Did I not care for you enough!?

Penelope lowered her eyelids, but tears still squeezed through them and rolled down her cheeks. Her lips trembled, and then pulled back, baring her teeth. Slightly unclenching her jaws, she let out a hoarse moan. She folded her hands in front of her mouth, both pleading with Erikson and attempting to stifle her sobs.

Shaking his head in denial, Erikson pronounced:

— Forget about me! — At these words, Penelope’s eyelids widened, and her eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets. — I don’t want to tie my life to a filthy whore. — As he walked away, Erikson added one last thing: — Don’t come near our house.

Penelope plummeted to her knees like a dead weight. Her crying grew louder.

Somewhere at the end of the street, someone screamed, and Erikson sped up.

Noticing him moving away faster and faster, Penelope gathered her remaining strength and shouted after him:

— Erikson! It’s me… — she finished in a whisper — …your Squirrel.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the street, Magdalena continued to scream when she saw the frozen, headless body of Ludwig. Kolinda, who was walking with her mother, asked her to wait and not go anywhere. The girl rushed to Thomas’s house to report what had happened.

The residents of the village began pouring out into the street one by one.

— Stay home and don’t go anywhere — Ava told the girls, shaking her index finger, before throwing on her fur coat and following Wilhelm out.

Seeing the headless body, Morten ran home to tell his parents. On hearing the news, Andreas grabbed his hunting rifle and some bullets, rushing out into the street. Charlotte followed him. Morten tried to keep pace. After everyone had left the house, Willy decided not to linger either. He got dressed, grabbed his sled, and raced to the hill; fortunately, the moon was shining brightly enough and the night was unusually light.

— Everyone stay home — Gustav said in a commanding voice, addressing his two daughters-in-law and grandchildren. These were Ragnar’s wife, Louise, and Henry’s wife, Emma. Roberta ran out after him. Soon, Conrad, who was looking after the stove in the barn, also headed to the place where Ludwig’s body was found.

Having ordered Ian and Klaus to stay home, Martin walked toward his wife’s screams with all his might, as quickly as possible. He walked. And he was sure this was just another hysterical fit that all women threw for no reason. Ian, meanwhile, had no intention of leaving. He was stuck in his dreams more intensely than ever and cursed everything every time someone called him and thus distracted him from his reveries.

Herman, Yvette, Caroline, Franz, Oliver, Frederica, and Nils ran headlong as a whole family, slowing only when they were close enough to recognize Ludwig in the frozen body and be horrified by the lack of a head.

Waking up from the screams, Karl rubbed his eyes, went to the window, and noticed that almost the entire village had gathered on the opposite side of the street, somewhere near Thomas’s house. He was overcome with wild curiosity. He put on his jacket and went outside. After Karl left, Regina continued to sit in the rocking chair. She had not gotten up since the hour Penelope was taken away. She held the vest in her hands — the one her eldest daughter wore at home and took off before putting on her fur coat and leaving the house. When Regina felt the urge to cry, she would press the vest to her face and only then allow herself a tear. She desperately wanted to believe that at least a small part of Penelope was in her arms, that her girl was near. The screams coming from the street forced her to rise from her chair. They were shouting outside that someone had been killed. Regina reluctantly began to lean her hands on the armrests, but it took her some time to manage to stand, as she had spent almost a day in a sitting position and her head began to feel slightly dizzy.

— Is that Ludwig? — Conrad muttered, curiously examining the thickened rivulets of blood on the decapitated neck at close range.

— What the… — Andreas’s voice broke off when he looked backward. First, everyone present looked at him, and a moment later they turned to see what he had seen behind them. And no one saw how an uncertain smile was gradually appearing on Andreas’s face. He was afraid to smile because he couldn’t believe it.

Ava took a couple of steps but stopped when Roberta shot out of the crowd. Sticking her finger forward, she almost screamed:

— Bitch! It’s because of you that my boys didn’t come back! — Roberta’s voice was already breaking on the last words.

The final steps, already timid and taken with great difficulty, stopped Penelope far from the gathered residents of the village. But she was focused on the one she called father. She stared at him without blinking. She was simultaneously overwhelmed by anger and satisfaction. She was intoxicated by the way she delivered her revenge, having been given such an opportunity.

Suddenly, Gustav’s threatening voice rang out as he looked directly into Penelope’s eyes:

— Wait. I’ll make you regret you were ever born.

Penelope’s lips flew open. She wanted to say what nothing could hold her back from any longer. But at that moment, a scream rang out:

— P-E-N-E-L-O-P-E!!!

Regina rushed toward her. She ran like a madwoman, having burst out into the street in her nightclothes, oblivious to the cold and snow.

— MOM!!!

They held each other tightly and would not have let go, if only Regina hadn’t pulled her head back from her daughter’s shoulder to be certain it was truly her girl. They screamed and wept. They wept with joy, for their tears of grief had already been exhausted.

Karl watched, disbelieving. For the first time in his life, his eyes seemed to be deceiving him. Though his face was expressionless, his mind was ready to explode. He was unable to cope with such an unexpected turn of events.

— Karl! — Gustav barked. — You fathered her. You are responsible for her.

Everyone looked at Karl, intently observing that stony expression. It was like a dead mask that would never come alive. But it was about to come alive, and everyone knew it. Only one question remained: “Who is hiding beneath this mask?”

Soon Karl’s hand reached for his belt and gripped his hunting knife. He drew the blade and continued to walk with a determined stride. His upper lip was drawn back, and his legs began to move faster, as if hurrying to end everything as soon as possible. A few steps before Penelope, he pulled the knife back slightly and swung it sharply forward.

— NO! — screamed Regina, throwing herself at her husband. Her voice broke the moment the blade entered her stomach, and the last traces of joy at her daughter’s return were wiped from her face.

— MOM! — screamed Penelope, rushing toward Regina. — NO-NO-NO!!! Mom! MOM!!! Don’t go! Don’t you dare! — She pressed her mother’s face to her chest and screamed. That scream did not subside until Penelope’s chest ran out of air.

Ava ran up to her, kneeling before Regina and helping to hold her breathless body. Ava opened her mouth but was unable to utter a single word. Wilhelm ran up behind her, placing one hand on his wife’s shoulder and embracing Penelope with the other. Penelope was already expending her last strength, after which her scream finally stopped.

Watching what was happening, Erikson was confused about his feelings. He thought to himself:

This is my Squirrel.

Then he recalled their conversation a minute ago.

Is she only mine?

He began to wonder whom he loved: just her body, or… Or did he want the entire Squirrel?

Suddenly, Penelope jumped up and struck Karl with both hands. But it was more of a push, which made Karl stumble back. His face was no longer so stony. It was hidden under a grimace of rage. He had already swung, preparing to make a second attempt, when suddenly Andreas’s voice rang out:

— KARL!

Karl looked back. The rifle in Andreas’s hands was pointed directly at him. But before he had time to collect himself, Penelope once again pounced on him, delivering a slap.

— Damn you! DAMN YOU!!! — She screamed, her eyes fixed on him, because no words could convey the hatred that was burning in Penelope’s heart. She simply screamed at him.

Andreas moved back from the crowd a little so that no one would try to snatch the rifle from his hands. He backed away, continuing to hold Karl at gunpoint.

Erikson kept his eyes fixed on his father, mentally repeating to himself:

Shoot! Come on! What are you waiting for!? This is my Squirrel!

— What did I do wrong!? — Penelope continued, her throat raw. — Answer me! What was my offense!? Where did I sin!? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!? SAY SOMETHING!!!

But Karl remained silent. His hand gripped the handle of his hunting knife tighter and tighter, and his legs were burning with the urge to rush forward.

— There is nothing sacred left in you! You know nothing but the law of your ancestors! No love! No compassion! No warmth! I received nothing from you! Heartless bastard! You ruined my life! Because of you, I lost my sister! You took my mother from me! Damn you! SCUM! — Screaming the last word, Penelope spat in Karl’s face. She was about to say the final words she wanted. Though her voice trembled and she uttered them with a sob, almost a whisper, they nevertheless sounded the loudest: — I will wait for the day you die, and I will not allow your body to be burned. No, I will not allow it. I must dance on your grave.

A deathly silence fell, and at that moment everyone turned, glancing toward the house when a crack was heard.

24. Sack and Contents

Kolinda stood on the veranda. She froze, unable to leave the house. Her head severed from her neck and sank into the decrepit bag, and in place of Kolinda’s head, the face of The Elder appeared. Almost all the inhabitants of the village stood before these voids instead of eyes, where darkness like an endless abyss lurked. Those few brief moments of remaining silence were necessary to realize The Elder’s presence and believe in what they saw — to confirm that this was not a dream.

Andreas pointed the barrel at the The Elder and fired without hesitation. The bullet tore into his chest. That was the end of the bullet’s tale.

The Elder pursed his lips and exhaled lightly but sharply. A thin blast of air shot out almost as fast as the bullet from Andreas’s gun. It was air pierced by a monstrous frost that slammed into Andreas’s torso, after which his whole body began to rapidly slow down and cool, right down to the bones. He froze, turning into an icy, motionless statue.

Magdalena wanted to take a step toward her beheaded daughter, but Yvette and Caroline prevented her. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed with all her might.

The surrounding shrieks were so loud that no one heard Herman’s voice when he shouted:

— RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!

Everyone scattered, running in different directions.

The Elder slowly descended the stairs, then struck the ground with his staff. The snow and everything on the surface was instantly pierced by frost and solidified, turning to stone. The frost wave spread in all directions from The Elder, consuming everything in its path.

While everyone was running away, Ava took Wilhelm by the hand, saying in a panicked voice:

— The girls!

— Run! I’ll be right there!

Unwilling to leave without him, Ava parted her lips but failed to utter a word. Her mind was paralyzed after Yvette and Caroline, who were trying to pull Magdalena away, began to move slower and slower, and after a few moments they finally froze, their skin instantly taking on a pale blue hue. Yet, even this wasn’t what scared her most. Wilhelm, who had rushed to help them, never reached them. He took a few steps, then the frost seeped into his feet, depriving him of control of his legs. He fell to his knees, and then, as the rest of his body froze, he fell onto his side like a solid, unbending log.

Only then did Ava scream, glancing down at her feet where the growing ice was approaching, and raced home, clutching her stomach, which severely slowed her down.

Charlotte, who had rushed after the frozen Andreas, never made it. A fierce frost pierced her through, and her whole body froze, turning into an icy statue. She was just shy of touching her husband. Without a thought, Morten ran after her. Pressed close to his mother, he refused to let her go.

Gustav ordered everyone to run and bolted himself. But his ambition to become the leader of the villagers played a cruel trick on him. While he was energetically waving his arms, urging them to flee, the frost crept up on him. Noticing this, he started to run, but not away from The Elder, but off to the side. His foot landed on the freezing, slippery surface and he slid. Gustav’s body instantly turned to ice and began to topple sideways. His head, colliding with the hardened surface, shattered like glass, the fragments of which scattered. Seeing the icy pieces of her husband’s head under her feet, Roberta shrieked, spreading her fingers in front of her. Conrad tried with all his might to pull her away from the growing patch of frost, but Roberta chose to shatter just like her husband. She did not shatter, but she remained near her husband for all eternity. Unwilling to let go of his desperate mother, Conrad stayed with them until the end, but only because he simply didn’t have time to run away.

Franz, Oliver, Frederica, and Nils were shouting a single word. They were calling for their father, as Herman, succumbing to instinct, rushed toward his wife and eldest daughter, who were already in the grip of the frost. He did not see the frozen statues. He simply ran to where he was needed. It was never too late for him. He always believed that every problem had a solution. And even now, as his body was being consumed by the frost sent by The Elder, Herman knew one thing: he had no place in this life without Yvette and Caroline. Franz, like his two younger brothers and sister, could not endure the sight of their father turning into an ice statue. Some tightly squeezed their eyes shut and turned away, while others covered their faces with their hands. But one way or another, none of them moved. The horror unfolding before their eyes immobilized them without any frost, which was now inevitable for Herman and Yvette’s four remaining children.

Martin hurried home. His legs carried him with all their might. Noticing this, the The Elder slightly tilted his staff toward Martin, after which the frost began to accelerate in that direction. Martin was almost flying, but the frost, for which there was no hindrance, was too swift. Soon Martin felt his right heel catch a blast of cold. He still managed to put that foot down on the ground a couple of times, but then sensation was almost lost and he was forced to hobble on the other leg, and so on until the frost consumed the other leg, which happened too quickly. Martin began to sink to his knees, but the wave of frost that overtook him did not allow it. His body froze, locked in the pose of an unfinished bow.

Karl rushed after Penelope. Noticing this, she started to run, but only until Erikson tackled Karl’s right arm, in which the knife lay. Unable to shake the young man off, Karl snatched his hunting knife with his left hand and, slicing the air, sharply slashed his throat.

— Erikson! — Penelope shrieked and rushed to him, forgetting about Karl and the knife.

The blood barely had time to spray sideways before it immediately began to dissolve into the snow. As the crimson streaks began to swiftly vanish beneath the advancing layer of ice, Karl felt a strong push when Penelope collided with him with her whole body. Unable to keep his balance, Karl continued to walk by inertia, surrendering to the power of the frost that came toward him and swallowed him up to the very tips of his fingers. Karl was rooted to the ground, and his torso remained tilted, completely frozen.

Penelope screamed hysterically, watching the blood gush from Erikson’s throat. She folded her warm palms on his cheeks, and then whispered hoarsely:

— Forgive me…

She pressed her lips to his, ignoring the stream of blood that spewed from Erikson’s mouth along with his cough. He felt the cold approaching. But it was merely the cold that foreshadowed eternal sleep. This always happens when blood leaves the body, and life flows out with it, signaling that the end is near. Life, as it fades, always takes its warmth with it. And Erikson felt himself parting with Squirrel. The warmth of her hands on his cheeks was becoming too intense and too pleasant for it to last forever. But he continued to feel it, and this Squirrel had no intention of fleeing to her burrow, despite the approaching frost.

And yet, she belonged to him.

Penelope refused to pull her hands from his face. Her teeth, bared from weeping, were smeared with Erikson’s blood, as were her parted lips. But she did not taste the blood. It was the taste of fading love and approaching grief.

Soon the frost began to seize Erikson’s legs, which he no longer felt anyway. The cold that enveloped his heart was far more intense. But Penelope’s heart was in agony and gave off so much warmth that the The Elder’s marching frost approached her with great delay, encountering resistance from this strange source of warmth.

The frost pierced Erikson’s body to the bone, consuming more with each passing moment. It cooled his blood and crept toward his heart, which was no longer able to resist, losing its last reserves of warmth. It was fading.

His eyes looked at Penelope until the very end, and she did not tear herself away from those pupils. In them she saw a reflection of herself, as Erikson always saw her. Eyes never lie. They will tell you everything. Penelope continued to look into them even when they began to be covered with a thin crust of ice, like a snowflake etching itself onto a pane of glass. She watched as the light in those two flames faded, taking the life with them. By that time, they already resembled pieces of glass that rapidly changed color and hardened, completely saturated with frost. Penelope felt the life fade from that gaze, and the body turned into a motionless statue. She became the last thing those eyes saw.

After that, Penelope’s legs reluctantly carried her away from the approaching frost that the The Elder was spreading with his staff. Her feet were burning like never before.

The Elder observed the last figure his element had not yet reached. His fingers squeezed the staff with even greater force and tilted it further toward the fleeing Penelope.

In the other directions, the frost wave slowed down. By that time, Ava had already crossed the threshold of the house, still clutching her stomach. She was overwhelmed by agonizing pain, which instantly forced her to scream. Irma, Astrid, Frida, and Wanda ran up to her. Ava sank to her knees. Unable to keep her balance, she rested her left hand on the floor and continued to hold her stomach with the other. The pain was unbearable. Ignoring the girls, she wanted to scream again, louder. But suddenly the pain receded, and suspiciously sharply. Simultaneously, the girls, all hugging their mother, did not tear their worried gazes from the door behind Ava. It was rapidly being covered with white hoarfrost, leaving a layer of growing frost. The same thin layer of frost was spreading across the floor. Slowly and steadily. They began to tug at Ava’s free arm, urging her to go deeper into the house, but she was unable to even rise. Her mind was filled with the pleasant feeling that had arisen after the pain in her stomach had stopped. The pain had nowhere left to originate. When a baby’s heart stops, it can no longer pound against the walls of the womb. Ava’s belly was empty. From all sides, she could hear the panicked voices of her daughters. Voices destined to fall silent, just like the heartbeat of the unborn child.

Epilogue

Penelope no longer looked back to see how close the frost had gotten to her. She gauged the distance by the cracking sound that reached her every time the wave of frost captured the nearest trees, bushes, and house roofs. The cracking grew louder and more distinct with every step she took.

She ran past Martin’s house. Klaus was standing inside by the window, watching what was happening, when the window was suddenly covered in a white, opaque layer of ice. A moment later, the window cracked, and a blast of icy air burst inside, flying into the boy’s nose and mouth, instantly turning everything beneath his skin to ice.

Ian was also in the house. He was lying on the bed with his legs crossed and his hands folded behind his head. For him, everything around remained unchanged, and therefore the events outside held no interest. Ian succumbed to the frost’s embrace without even feeling the element approach him, because his mind was overwhelmed by dreams that, as it turned out, sometimes do find common ground with reality. His heart stopped beating in the moments when life took on exceptionally bright colors, free of suffering. This was a death that remains the ultimate dream for all who feel it approach.

The frost wave continued to pursue Penelope as she ran past Gustav’s house. At that moment, Louise and Emma were inside with the children. They stayed inside, strictly following their father-in-law’s explicit instructions. No matter what.

And Penelope was still running. She couldn’t stop.

— What, home? — Willie said in a frustrated voice, holding onto the sled with both hands as he prepared for another run down the night’s sledding hill. He looked at Penelope, not understanding her haste. — Fine, fine. I’m coming.

Only then, hearing the growing crackling, Willie paid more attention and noticed a strange phenomenon. It was as if a solid, thick white shadow was rapidly descending upon the village, covering everything completely.

Before Willie could even take a few steps, he felt a sudden sense of dread. He did not like Penelope’s frightened face. His gaze then shifted further, examining the events unfolding behind the girl. Willie still didn’t understand what it was.

Without slowing down, Penelope picked up Willie and jumped forward, hugging the boy as tightly as she could. They tumbled down the slope on Penelope’s back. Willie screamed, but this time from fear. He couldn’t imagine a single winter day without the sledding hill, but he was not happy about this particular descent at all.

Penelope’s arms did not loosen their hold. Still hugging Willie tightly, she rose to her feet and ran away. She vanished from sight, and The Elder, lifting his staff from the ground, lost interest in her. But Penelope kept running. She ran without looking back.