The Vanishing of Katharina Linden

tight around the trunk of the tree, and-and waited.”

Stefan’s voice broke slightly on the last word; with a shock I realized he was close to tears.

“It wasn’t long before I saw them. I think there were four of them, coming up into the old castle ruins the same way I had. I couldn’t see much, just dark shapes moving through the bushes. I’m not even sure they were all standing up, like people. One of them just seemed to be crashing around in the undergrowth like an animal.

“They came really close. I thought they were going to come right up to the turret, where I was sitting. Maybe the one crawling in the undergrowth was tracking me. Perhaps he could smell me, like a hound. But it wasn’t a dog crashing around in there, it was something much bigger. I didn’t want to think what would happen to me if it found me.”

Stefan put his hands over his face, as though trying to shut out the sight. He said something muffled; it sounded like Gott.

“Stefan-”

I was not sure what to do, whether to try to put an arm around him.

“What if they’d found me?” he blurted out suddenly. He thrust out an arm toward me. “Look! Just look! I dug my fingers so hard into the tree trunk, they’re still covered in green stuff-I can’t get it out. I shut my eyes-I thought it was the end. I just knew that whatever it was lumbering about in the bushes would find me.

“After a minute or two I thought the noise was not so loud, so I opened my eyes again and the dark shapes had moved farther away. I suppose they hadn’t smelled me at all.”

I said nothing. The thought of sitting up there in the dark, praying that I would not be discovered-or smelled out-was too horrible to contemplate.

Stefan raked a hand through his dirty blond hair and then went on. “I think they went downhill a bit. I could hear a crackling sound-but I couldn’t see much. I didn’t dare come down from the turret in case they heard me. And then-then I heard voices. I think they were whispering.” He turned a pale face to me. “Maybe that’s the sound someone makes when they talk if-if they’re just a-a skeleton.”

Quatsch, I wanted to say, but nothing came out. My mouth was dry.

“It seemed to go on forever. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I didn’t want to hear it. I stuck my fingers in my ears-but then I took them out again, because I thought, Supposing they come up here and I don’t hear them coming?

“And then-then I saw a light. It was little at first, then it got bigger-or else it was coming closer, I don’t know. It was yellow. I always thought the light around the huntsman would be green and glowing, but…”

Stefan’s voice trailed off.

“But what?” I prompted him impatiently.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was seeing. I felt strange-sort of dizzy, and I had this horrible feeling in my stomach, the way you feel if you look out the top window in a very high building. I kept looking at this light, getting bigger and bigger, and thinking that if I didn’t get away soon I never would, and the whole town would be looking for me next.

“In the end I crawled down the bank at the side of the turret, and crept off through the bushes, as quietly as I could. It seemed to take forever, and I cut my hands to pieces because I was on my hands and knees most of the time, and the ground is covered in sticks and stones and brambles.”

Instinctively I glanced at Stefan’s hands and saw that they were covered in half-healed scabs and scratches.

“The whole time there was still this whispering. It sounded-sort of like it was something important. Something-I don’t know-urgent.

“I nearly got back to the path, and then I put my knee on something, a piece of tree bark I think, and it made a really loud snap. I thought I was going to die. Now they have to have heard me, I thought. Any minute the one who had been floundering around in the bushes would come crashing toward me. I wondered what the last thing I saw would be. I kept thinking of something with hair and teeth, like a hound, but not a hound.

“I just went on staring into the dark, straining my eyes, trying to see if anything was coming for me. After what seemed like ages, I realized they hadn’t heard me at all. The voices were going on just the same as before, and that light was flickering among the trees.

“I couldn’t stand it there a second longer, so I risked it and stood up, and just ran for the track. Somehow I didn’t bump into anything or fall over. Once I was on the track, I just ran and ran until I was at the bottom of the hill. I didn’t even look around.

“But, Pia, that’s not all. Just as I was standing up to run for the track, I heard something else. Not whispering. I can’t say what it was exactly. It was a kind of-a beating sound.”

I stared at him. “O Gott,” I breathed with a sudden cold flash of realization.

“What?” said Stefan, his face puckered with alarm. “You know what it was?” I said, and the rising feeling of dread within me curdled into horror. “It was hoofbeats.”

There was no more time for discussion. The bell had rung several minutes before; we were already late for the first class. We slunk upstairs to be greeted with a telling-off from Frau Eichen, and then had to sit through two periods of math before we could talk any more. I sneaked a few sidelong glances at Stefan. He still looked pale; I wondered if he was ill.

As soon as the bell rang for the Pause, I leaned over and said, “So why didn’t you come over on Saturday?”

Stefan waited for the others to pack up their things and leave the table, then he said very quietly, without looking at me, “I was sick.”

“Sick?”

“Doch.” He sounded almost angry.

“Well, what was the matter with you?”

“I ran all the way down from the Quecken hill, and when I got home I was really ill. That’s why I couldn’t come over.”

“What, you ran so much that you were sick?”

“No,” said Stefan. This time he did look up, and his eyes were full of anger. “I was scared, all right? I was scared.”

I looked at him for a long time, while various responses to this ran through my head. How could you be so scared that you were sick? Were you really and truly sick?-did you throw up? What did your mother say when you came back so late? But in the end what I said was: “You’ve got to go back up there with me.”

“No way,” said Stefan. “Absolutely no way.”

Chapter Eighteen

Of course, he did go back there with me, though it took two whole days of persuading, nagging, and flagrant bribery-I’ll give you my pocket money for the next three weeks-before he agreed to do it. Even then it was only on the condition that we went in broad daylight. Stefan was not going to risk being caught up there at night again.

As luck would have it, Wednesday was always a light day for homework, so we were able to meet relatively early in the afternoon. I told my mother that we were going to the Schleidtal to play mini-golf; Stefan merely told his mother he was going out.

As we toiled up the footpath that led to the castle, I tried questioning Stefan about Walpurgis Night again, but he was not forthcoming. He had been so frightened by what he saw, and he had thrashed himself so hard running down the hill afterward, that he had simply been ill. That was all the explanation he could give.

“Maybe it was shock,” I suggested as we left the footpath and started up onto the uneven ground that had