Chapter 56
Celia watched Solomon recede into the distance. He appeared to experience no problem in getting away from the town, which made her think she could have done it as well. To what end though? Solomon was right. If the hunters were attacking the Mar-trollid, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Not that she thought he could either, if it came to that.
Friedrich and the kids were hauling the rope back in, making a game of it. Not for the first time, she wondered when simple laughter had last been heard here. Others walked by, scowls on their faces as they watched what was happening.
“Come on,” Friedrich said. “We’ve got the rope, now let’s go home and get some food.”
Christoph and the others took turns carrying the heavy coil of rope, sometimes two of them taking it together. Celia followed, glad to see the healing effect they were having on the two older people. They weren’t forgetting Lyssa, but they were letting their affection shower the kids they were suddenly surrounded with. Kids who needed someone to do that.
Again, it struck Celia how good these two truly were, and how many others in this place could be if they were given the chance.
Back at the house, Friedrich set to work undoing the splices he had put in the rope, showing the younger ones gathered around him.
“Now we bring it back to those you took it from, right?”
He eyed Christoph, who nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Good.”
They set about coiling up the shorter individual ropes and handing them out to be carried.
“Wait a moment,” Celia said. She reached for one of the shorter lengths. “I want to hold on to this one. Just for another day. Then we can return it.”
Friedrich scowled then shook his head. “If you really need it, I don’t suppose one more day could hurt anything. It is only rope after all. What do you say, Christoph?”
The boy considered, his hand on his chin. “Well…I guess it’s okay. But we’ll return it tomorrow for sure?”
Celia smiled at the change in the boy. A change that was obviously for Friedrich’s benefit.
“Yes, for sure,” she said. “And if something happens to it, we’ll pay the owner more than it’s worth for his trouble. Deal?”
“Deal.”
With that, Friedrich and the kids left, off to return the purloined rope to their rightful owners.
“What are you planning, dear?” Greta was getting lunch together, assembling a hearty meal from the items Solomon brought in the day before.
“What makes you think I’m planning anything?”
“Oh. You just wanted the rope to play with?”
Celia laughed. “Of course not. I don’t want to worry you, though.”
“The only person I know of that I worry about less than you is that young man who ran through the gates this morning, although that doesn’t mean I want to see you in danger.”
Celia laughed again at Solomon being called a young man. He was much older than Greta or Friedrich. For that matter, so was Celia herself. Appearances sometimes made all the difference.
“I’m not going to sit here waiting for him to come back. There are still problems here, no matter what Solomon finds out there.”
“Like that one remaining hunter.”
“Yes. Like that.”
“And your plan is?”
“I’m not quite sure yet, but I think it’s time for the hunter to become the prey.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Close to dusk, Celia walked to the manor and stood in a nearby doorway where she could keep watch, the rope coiled at her waist. Word must have gotten around Dunfield. Several men watched her, a couple with a challenge in their stares, but no one approached her or tried to physically accost her in any way. As always, she kept her eye out for the man who tried to trap her inside. She saw no sign of him. If he was even still alive— and who knew around here?— then he was keeping far away from her.
The sun went down behind the buildings and the shadows started to lengthen. Soon, the door to the manor swung open, revealing only darkness within. A moment later, the red hunter appeared, moved down the steps and along the street.
Celia followed, staying close to the buildings. She wasn’t afraid of it. Not much, anyway. She’d already shown that it could be beat, twice as a matter of fact. But she didn’t want to confront it too close to the manor, where she’d have to keep an eye on the building also. There could be others in there, hidden until they were needed, or even worse things.
No, she’d follow this thing, then take it when it was well on its own.
The hunter walked slowly down the street, whistling softly. The tune, as always, was jarring. If they did use it to communicate with each other, this one was talking to itself.
Finally, it turned off the main road and down a side street, its head turning to look between buildings as it passed them. Hunting for prey, although what it did with them was still lost on Celia.
As she watched it, she felt any lingering fear disappear, to be replaced by anger. A fire flared up in her stomach, and her fists balled up so tightly that she was afraid her fingernails would draw blood from her palms.
How dare this— thing— terrorize the town, attack people for no reason Whatever it was. And whatever was controlling it.
It was time for it to stop. Time for the people of Dunfield to be shown that they didn’t have to be helpless in the face of this evil.
“Hey,” she said.
The hunter stopped, then slowly turned its head to look at her from that white mask. It let out a low, long whistle and turned to her, moving cautiously.
“No one’s stopping me this
