Page 110 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Why are you doing this?” Sylvia shouted over the howl of the storm.

“There is no other way forward,” Adelheid answered. “Wilhelm has sat by idly while our harvests rotted in the fields, while our homes burned, while my family and subjects have starved. And now he plans to sacrifice us all for his own ambitions. I cannot allow it.”

“We would have helped you! I would have helped you.”

Adelheid curled her lip. “You have always been so naïve, Sylvia. By the time Wilhelm is through, this country will be ruined. Whatever influence you have will be gone. What culture you cherish will be diluted when we are all forced to assimilate. Some of us will be snuffed out entirely.” She flung her arm out, as if gesturing over the vast expanse of Brunnestaad. “Open your eyes. We are relics already. Can you bring yourself to hasten our demise?”

Once, all of them had been royalty. This was what he’d reduced them to: dogs fighting for scraps.

“I have brought myself to do many things.” Sylvia set her jaw. “I will protect what is mine.”

In response, Adelheid lashed out with a whip of water. Immediately, Lorelei focused her attention on the puddle at Sylvia’s feet. She brought up a wall of ice to shield Sylvia. Sylvia did not look her way, but she could almost feel her gratitude. Lorelei could never hope to compete with either of their raw power, but she could certainly make a nuisance of herself. If Lorelei could distract Adelheid, perhaps Sylvia could find an opening with her saber.

As Sylvia fought to close the space between her and Adelheid, Lorelei sent chips of ice and bursts of water hurtling toward Adelheid. Even with two opponents and her strength sapped by the Ursprung’s curse, she was an automaton of violence, cold and controlled as she swatted aside Lorelei’s attacks and launched her own against Sylvia. But one moment of distraction was all she needed for Sylvia to get within range. With inhuman speed, she landed a blow on Adelheid’s arm. Blood arced from the wound.

Adelheid reeled back, her eyes gleaming like a cornered animal’s as she realized she was losing ground. As Sylvia readied herself to strike again, magic screamed through the air like a riptide. A shudder moved through the earth, and then the river spilled over its banks. The force of the current nearly bowled Lorelei over. She scrabbled up onto a low-hanging branch. Birds were flushed shrieking from their roosts, and branches groaned as they were torn asunder from the trees. She even caught a glimpse of a schellenrock clinging to a shiny shard of sea glass as it was swept, wailing, from its den.

Adelheid would drown them all at this rate.

Against her unbridled power, they didn’t stand a chance. Lorelei had to dosomething—andquickly. But Lorelei had never killed anyone before. She had thought about it in the abstract, of course, but confronted with the possibility, her hands trembled like a frightened child’s. She didn’t know if she could stomach it. Not the blood and certainly not the guilt.

No. She could not fall prey to sentimentality.

Lorelei knew that look in Adelheid’s eye, hollowed-out and bladed. She would cut down any rival who stood in her way. She would make any concession to guarantee her own survival. And Lorelei would die a thousand deaths over to protect Sylvia. The conviction coated her all over with armor. She refused to be afraid, when she had walked in the shadow of Death for so long.

This time, she would fight for what she loved.

But she couldn’t bestupidabout it. She was no gallant fairy-tale knight. But if she could come up with a plan, any sort of plan . . .

Bare inches away from her nose, a pair of citrine eyes blinked out at her. The air itself rippled like a cloak caught in a breeze. Although she couldn’t see the shape of its body, she knew immediately what it was.

An alp.

Heralp.

She hardly had time to process it before the beast materialized out of the mist. The crimson of its tarnkappe was as bright as a bloodstain. It smashed the cap down against its head with its tiny claws.

Its hateful voice slithered through her skull. “Came back.”

She nearly toppled off the branch. “Now is really not the time!”

It dared to look offended. “Tried to kill me!”

“Consider us even, then!” Oh, she could throttle it. Maybe this time, she really would rend itstarnkappe—No,she had to remain calm.

An idea came to her, slowly at first, then burning as urgent as a flame. Channeling Sylvia as much as she was able, she drew a steadying breath and forced a smile. It flinched. “Right now, you and I share a common enemy.”

The alp regarded her suspiciously, clearly recalling her earlier trickery.

The water was still raging below them, frothing and brown as it tore up the earth. Sylvia and Adelheid stood knee-deep in it now. Great gouts of water lashed out at Sylvia like the crack of a whip, only to be held in trembling suspension when she lifted her hands. Her eyes glittered with stalwart determination. Adelheid’s shoulders heaved with every breath,and her face was mottled with streaks of blood. It pushed out of her pores and leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Hold on just a little longer.

“That woman,” she said, “is going to cause a war. I imagine you are old enough to remember the last time that happened. Armies will come with their machines and their horses, and they will destroy your home without even thinking about it.”

Lorelei could not read the alp’s expression, but something about its ponderous silence suggested it was remembering some distant loss. It looked quite pathetic, with its matted-down fur and sodden cloak.

“And when all is said and done,” she added, with great reluctance, “I do still owe you a cup of coffee in exchange for sparing my life.”