Page 52 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

Perhaps she had crushed it long ago. The world as she saw it was too ugly and painful to share. Loneliness opened within her chest, too quickly for her to suppress. She could not help thinking of her least favorite of the Ursprung tales, one she had collected from an old Ebulisch woman.

Back in the days when wishes still held power, there was a thief who, while running from his troubles, stumbled and fell into a hole. When he came to, he found himself in totaldarkness—andface-to-face with a lindworm’s glowing eyes. The thief expected to be devoured outright, but to his shock, the beast led him deeper into its lair.

At the heart of an underground cavern was a spring filled with water that shone as bright and golden as the sun. The man feared he would starve before anyone came to rescue him, but as the days went by, he realized that so long as he drank of the spring, he never knew hunger or thirst. For three long years, the thief lived in darkness with no one but his lindworm for company.

Now, there came a day when an earthquake caused the roof of theirprison—theirhome, really, as he’d come to think ofit—tocollapse. The lindworm stretched toward the sunlight, and the thief climbed the spines along its back to freedom. When they reached the surface, they lay down beneath a copse of trees to rest.

It so happened that a solider came passing by at that very moment. She had long dreamed of being a hero, and so, seizing her opportunity, she strung heavy iron chains around the sleeping lindworm’s neck. The thief awoke at the racket, just in time to see the soldier draw her sword. He considered escaping, for if he was recognized, the soldier might arrest him. But he felt a tender sentiment for the lindworm who had saved his life, and so, he struck down the solider with a rock and freed the beast from its chains. The lindworm regarded him for only the space of a breath before it crawled back into its cavern. The thief washed the blood from his hands and made the long journey back to his village.

He did not stop even once, for he never grew hungry or tired. But when he arrived at his mother’s house, she did not recognize him. His neighbors claimed they’d never seen his face before. His name slipped through their minds like water through their open hands. Distraught, he returned to the one place he knew he still belonged, but the ground over the lindworm’s lair had sealed itself shut once more.

Power, even given freely to the worthy, still came at too high a price. Wilhelm was such a fool to want it.

“Lorelei?”

Her pen dragged across the page, bleeding ink all over the illustration she’d absentmindedly begun. The lindworm emerging from its pool of gold now drowned in a sea of black. Perfect.

“Don’t sneak up on me,” she groused. “What did you say?”

She looked up to find Ludwig perched beside her. He held two bowls in his hands, filled to the brim with a thin stew Adelheid had made of their dwindling supplies: peas and slivers of jerky, from the looks of it. A piece of hardtack rose from its surface like a gravestone. Lorelei was too famished to care.

He passed a bowl to her. “I’ve been thinking.”

Lorelei accepted it and reluctantly closed her notebook. The heat unfurled through her hands, and the steam wafting from its surface warmed her cold-stung cheeks. “That’s not good.”

“I think I know how to get us out of here.”

“Oh?” Lorelei glanced up at him. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“I want to see if it works first before I tell you. It will be so embarrassing if I’m wrong,” he said. “Just trust me.”

“You saying that makes me trust you considerably less.”

“Wilhelm promised me land.”

The confession knocked her off guard. “Pardon?”

“I didn’t really want to go on this expedition, to be honest, but he bribed me.” Ludwig watched her with those clever-fox eyes of his. They were heavy with exhaustion and washed almost red in the firelight. “I’m not self-sabotaging enough to lead us astray. I have too much to lose.”

“That,” she said, “is exactly why I shouldn’t trust you.”

He smiled at that.

So Wilhelm intended to follow in his father’s footsteps. If anyone challenged him, he would seize the lands of those who turned against him and elevate those who remained loyal. Ludwig had lived among the nobility his entire life, held close but never equal. But at the end of this, he wouldn’t just have a courtesy title. He’d have the real thing.

“I cannot believe you’d become one of them,” she said, feeling strangely disappointed that he felt the needto—what,demonstrate his loyalty to her? “But I do trust you. You didn’t need to convince me.”

“I’m touched,” he said. “And quite surprised, to be honest. I’d expected some judgment. At least an insult or two.”

How could she possibly judge him? She’d clawed her way onto this expedition in some desperate attempt to protect herself. If she were offered a title and land, she would be a fool to decline it. “Don’t tempt me.”

“No, no. Let’s hear it.”

“Have some self-respect, you traitor,” she said without bite. “Et cetera.”

“A little late for that.” He folded one knee into his chest and draped his arm over it. “I know you won’t like to hear it, but if it helps your investigation, I’m certain Sylvia is innocent.”

“I amnot—”At his cutting look, she huffed out a sigh. “Fine. Why is that?”