" The Wild Hunt rides tonight.” Meg’s eyes glinted with her eerie tale. “They ride on horses with nostrils like burning coals, chasing the souls of the wicked, that cannot rest for—” Then her head came up sharp. And, “Gavin,” she says, “there’s knocking at the door.” I thought her saying it was still part of the tale. Then I heard it too, a thud too regular for wind and rain. "

― Ellen Kushner , Thomas the Rhymer