Page 13 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

Lorelei choked on her own saliva. Pounding on her chest, she barely managed to splutter, “You’re disgusting. I’m leaving.”

He laughed into his sleeve as though covering a sneeze. It was the one weakness she’d ever been able to find in him: an insecurity about the gap between his front teeth. “I’ll see you at the meeting. It should be fun.”

Ziegler had asked them all to meet atseven—fifteenminutes fromnow—togo over some logistics and to finally share where they were headed.

“Until then.”

Lorelei made her way to the stern of the ship, watching as they pulled away from the docks. The spokes of the paddle wheel restlessly churned the water into froth, and the engine whirred. Past the prow cutting upthe water, she swore she could see palefaces—nixiesor the ghosts of thedrowned—staringup at her. Her stomach turning, Lorelei fixed her gaze on the horizon.

Bit by bit, the city slipped by and the world outside its walls unfolded before her. The wind carded through her hair and sent her coattails billowing. No joy swelled within her at the landscape before her, no awe. Until they left Neide provincebehind—assumingthey were leaving it behind atall—therewould be little to see but meadows and marshes. The kingdom seemed to her nothing but a vast, bleak expanse of mud.

Nothing was going as she dreamed it would.

A lowcawpulled her from her thoughts. Lorelei glanced over, then quickly averted her eyes with a muffled swear. A nachtkrapp perched on the rail, preening its sharp black feathers. It looked harmless enough, nearly identical to a common raven, but Lorelei knew better.

It was a bad omen.

A few years ago, Ziegler had acquired a specimen to stuff and mount in her office. Lorelei had helped her prepare it. When she’d pinned back its serrated wings on her worktable, it revealed the red eyes set into each wing like fat rubies in the black velvet of a jewelry box. The luckiest who met those horrible eyes were struck dead immediately. The less fortunate suffered a wasting sickness that rotted them slowly from the inside out.

Lorelei shooed it, but it only hopped a few paces down the railing and ruffled its feathers indignantly. It occurred to her that Sylvia would likely have some elegant way of getting rid of it. The thought darkened her mood even more.

“Begone, damn you!” She waved her arms more insistently.

The nachtkrapp let out a deafeningscrawbefore taking flight. Lorelei slumped bonelessly against the railing, grateful no one else had witnessed her humiliation.

“Well done,” said Adelheid.

Lorelei startled at the sound of her voice. Adelheid sat on the deck a few meters away from her, seemingly engrossed in whatever she was doing. With mechanical precision, she measured out long coils of wireand snipped them with a pair of iron scissors. In her wide, steady hands, the blades looked almost fragile. Up close, Lorelei could see the sunburn dusting the bridge of her nose and the premature creases on her forehead and around her eyes.

“How long have you been there?” Lorelei asked.

“Long enough.” Adelheid began to twist the wires together in a complicated-looking pattern. “I was just setting up my equipment. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her tone was so polite, it verged on cold. She still had not looked up from her work. Over months of working with her, Lorelei had noticed that she spoke to everyone with the same meted-out distance. She’d chosen not to take Adelheid’s indifference personally. Adelheid worked hard and did not suffer nonsense. Lorelei could respect that.

“What are the wires for?” she asked.

Adelheid raised her eyebrows. “I did not realize you had any interest in thaumatology.”

Lorelei heard the unspoken insult: how surprising that a Yeva would have any interest in magic. She smiled thinly. “Everything that happens on this ship is of interest to me.”

“Of course.” At last, Adelheid raised her dull green eyes to Lorelei’s. “Congratulations are in order.”

Lorelei sensed she was being mocked. Drawing herself up taller, she said, “Whatever it is you’re doing, wrap it up. They’re expecting us.”

Displeasure twitched at the corner of Adelheid’s lips, but she collected her things. Clearly, she did not appreciate being told what to do.

They made their way to the door of the expedition crew’squarters—oneaccessible only by magic, thanks to the needlessly complex aetheric lock. Only someone as paranoid as Ziegler could have contrived such a method of torture. Adelheid closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration as she manipulated the water within the mechanism. Her mouth twitched with irritation as she struggled with it. Then, at last, it gave way.

No one would be interfering with theirwork—orstealing it.

A hallway stretched out before them. ThePrinzessinwas something pulled from Lorelei’s nightmares, which was to say, tasteless and excessive. But upon closer inspection, it was terribly worn. The delicate splinters in the woodwork, the uneven seams in the damask wallpaper, the way the tiles of marble on the floor fit together like crooked teeth. It was a splendor she could slide her fingers beneath, like a loose tile or a strip of rain-swollen bark. Some superstitious part of her feared what rot she’d find if she peeled it back.

A row of chandeliers illuminated their path, their crystals scattering light onto the floor like handfuls of broken glass. Lorelei led them briskly past their bedrooms and through the double doors to what they’d taken to calling the war room.

Its centerpiece was a massive table, a polished cross section of some ancient redwood imported from across the ocean. Sunlight fell over it in latticed patterns, let in by the narrow windows. The air smelled faintly of chamomile and ginger. Ludwig and Sylvia’s doing, she assumed. The two of them were flitting aboutbusily—andbickering, by the looks of it. Sylvia was gesticulating with a teaspoon.

Heike sat with her head resting on the table. Johann was slumped disconcertingly in his chair. His glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose and settled at a jaunty angle, but he made no effort to adjust them.