Petra Klabouchová’s Ignis Fatuus: Explore the Vltava and Šumava

Two novels – Ignis fatuus and Vltava Springs – work together as a continuous narrative. Both are set in the Šumava region, but one delves into the dark legends and moors, while the other explores the streams that emerge from the plains, carrying human guilt and delicate aspirations. Each novel provides a map that readers can connect to the actual landscape as they embark on their journey. Both books are published by Host Publishers. Vltava Springs has been nominated for the Czech Book Award 2022, and Ignis Fatuus has received a nomination for the Magnesia Litera 2025 for Fiction. You can meet them at the event “Which Way Out of Boredom” in the Czech Republic’s Between the Lines series.

What did Petra Klabouchová write?

Petra Klabouchová (* 1980) hails from Prachatice. She studied media relations and journalism at Masaryk University in Brno. Currently, she works in the music industry as a manager for several rock bands, splitting her time between Italy, the United States, and the Czech Republic. She has authored a two-volume children’s series titled Vampire Tales, as well as novels including The Last Oranges of Cuba (2012), The Fraud of the Golden Pharaoh (2019), a thriller called The English Garden (2020), and the novel At the North Wall (2023), which focuses on child victims of the communist regime. Among her standout works are the detective story Vltava Springs, for which she won the Johann Steinbrener Prize, and the horror story Ignis fatuus, which quickly became a bestseller.

Ignis fatuus: dark folk-mystery horror

Ignis fatuus is a book that takes the belief in “lights” and illusions of the Šumava landscape very seriously—not as mere folklore, but as a language through which the landscape communicates when words fail. The story centers around Křemelné and the forgotten paths in the former forbidden zone. The mists are not just scenery; they deepen time, layer history, and blur the boundaries between “then” and “now.” The oppressive atmosphere of the normalization years seeps into the woods just like wetness in shoes, and human fears cling to the peat like lichens on rocks.
The writing feels intimate and focused; instead of grand actions, it invites close attention. Readers can follow the characters’ footsteps and listen to how the ground feels beneath them, to the secrets the windswept paths hide, and to the meanings of the fleeting light shining between the trees. Here, local tales are not mere attractions for tourists but represent a quietly recognized path to cope with the heaviness of nature and personal memories.
“After completing At the North Wall, I wanted to unleash my imagination further to test the might of my words and see if I could invoke fear in readers. Can we still be frightened by the ancient mysteries that used to scare our ancestors?” says the author. “For many years, I have gathered mysterious stories from my home region of Šumava, and out of this grew a mystery horror that aims to be more than just a simple fairy tale for grown-ups.”
What do readers think? The consensus is clear: after finishing this book, you’ll hesitate before visiting Šumava in the fall.

Vltava springs: a dead student and Hitler’s secret factory

Vltava Springs focuses on crime, developing the theme in the Šumava region. This present-day detective story unfolds against the backdrop of real historical events linked to the secret concentration camp Prameny Vltavy. Here, too, Šumava plays an active role. It draws attention to memory-filled places—the springs where water emerges through peat, long straight stretches of the former signal road, and the bogs near Kvilda or Borové Lada, as well as logging sites, where the wide horizon suddenly opens up and one comprehends the vastness between the wind and the land.
Whether you pick up Ignis fatuus or Vltava Springs, you will find one crucial experience shared: Šumava feels alive, like an organism of its own. The landscape sets the tone for both novels, sometimes urging you to pause and take in the cool air, and other times presenting a steep hill. In the darker novel, experiences manifest as glowing mirages and uneasy boundaries between nature and our projections onto it. Whereas in the detective story, the journey is more navigable, with clear landmarks guiding the narrative and relationships that carry their own emotional weights.
In both instances, you have the opportunity to literally walk through the stories. Once you close the book, you can grab a real map to explore the depicted places: visiting springs where water shifts from a gentle trickle to a rushing stream, the dark spruce forests that linger in shadow even at high noon, and the plateaus where the wind sounds like a quiet river.

Travelling through Šumava with Petra Klabouchová’s novels

For the reader-travellers, the key point in both novels is that they don’t push you down an obligatory sightseeing list. Instead, they encourage you to understand why some locations feel like magnets while others serve as warnings. They make you question why silence feels refreshing in some areas but stifling in others, and why you might remove your hood in the woods, suddenly hearing more than you expected. Ignis fatuus invites you to slow down—take time to interpret the mists, the imagery in the grass, and the light refracted over the dark waters. Meanwhile, Vltava Springs reminds us that the journey “to the springs” is always metaphorical; reaching them isn’t quick—it’s something you earn; often, when you arrive, it turns out to be a subtle, persistent spring from the earth rather than a grand lake.
Follow the paths of both novels with Kudy z boredy and the Czechia Between the Lines series: to the springs, to the ridges, to the valleys of Křemelné, and to places where the map reveals only a faint trail and the forest reclaims what’s rightfully its. Once you find yourself there, take your time. Allow the gentle pace of footsteps and the essence of the landscape, which remembers far more than any of us do, to sink in. Somewhere amidst the spruces and the water, you may realize that Ignis fatuus and Vltava Springs are not just two separate narratives but one flowing river, with its quiet, shadowy springs and lighter, swifter streams. And in both novels, the Šumava is not mere decoration; it is a voice best appreciated in the great outdoors.