Page 69 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Adelheid will know if you draw it for her.” Sylvia frowned. “Butwould it not be wiser to return to Ruhigburg and regroup? This is getting dangerous.”

I would like to know who is responsible before you return to Ruhigburg. If you cannot give me that, then I hope you understand that someone must answer for Ziegler’s murder. Unity requires sacrifice.

“We can’t return to Ruhigburg without the Ursprung.”

Shetried—andmust havefailed—totemper the desperation in her voice, for Sylvia stared at her with a strange brew of confusion and concern. But Lorelei could not bring herself to tell Sylvia what Wilhelm had threatened to do. What good would it do Sylvia to burden her with that knowledge? All ofthem—saveLudwig,perhaps—believedhim a good man. Besides, danger would not deter her. Lorelei was no stranger to dooming someone else to save herself.

And deep down, even without Wilhelm’s threat, she did not know if she could stop now. Being Yevanisch was about recognizing injustice. She was proud of little in her life, but she was proud of that. She could not rest until she found out what happened to Ziegler.

Grieve her, Adelheid had told her,but do not let this become an obsession. It will sink you in the end.

“Think about it,” Lorelei continued, more composedly this time. “Wilhelm’s position is precarious. If we return empty-handed, it will all but confirm his opponents’ view of him as a weakruler—onedesperate enough to chase after fairy tales. Without the Ursprung’s power, he cannot hope to stave off a coup.”

“Will that be all he does with it?” Sylvia asked quietly.

Lorelei frowned. She had considered it before, of course, that he would look beyond Brunnestaad’s borders once more. But with her own death bearing down on her, she could not afford to be so principled. “I don’t know. But you will be there to advise him.”

Sylvia smiled uncertainly, but when she spoke again, she regained some cheer. “Yes, you’re right. For the stability of Brunnestaad, it is our duty to press forward.”

“Right. For Brunnestaad.” Lorelei paused. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sylvia lookedbewildered—anda bit frightened. Lorelei filed it away as a future intimidation technique. “We should fetch Ludwig.”

“Now?”Lorelei very much doubted she could roll down the mountain, much less hike back to Ludwig’s makeshift shelter. As much as she hated the idea of leaving him alone in his condition, she refused to risk their lives for his. They’d left him with more blankets, food, and firewood. It would have to be enough. “That is a very stupid idea. You can’t save him if you’re dead.”

“I am not dead yet.”

“You look on the brink of it!”

Sylvia only let out a long sigh, one that suggested she was nobly withholding what she really wanted to say.

“Besides,” Lorelei continued, mostly to reassure herself. “He could cheat Death himself, if it came down to it.”

“He could.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“We’ll leave at dawn. Now go inside. You’ll catch your death out here.”

“I never knew you fussed so much,” Sylvia groused. “Are you certain you’re feeling well?”

Lorelei chose to ignore her as they slipped into the tent. Sylvia’s enchantedlantern—enspelledto never extinguish, Loreleiassumed—illuminatedthe small space, but most of it clung to Sylvia. It gilded her hair and filled her pale eyes with fire. It might have been beautiful, had Lorelei not caught a glimpse of blood seeping through Sylvia’s coat. For one horrible moment, Lorelei’s vision pulsed black with fear.

“Let me look at your wound,” Lorelei said.

“Honestly, Lorelei, I’m fine.”

She fixed Sylvia with her chilliest glare. Mercifully, the fight bled out of her. With a sigh, Sylvia floundered about in an effort to unbutton her coat one-handed. She pulled her hair over her good shoulder and turned her back to Lorelei, who averted her eyes as Sylvia unfastened the buttons of her shirt. A bright red stain spread across the back, clinging damplyto her skin. At last, it fell from her shoulders and pooled around her waist. She’d already bled through her linen bandages.

Carefully, Lorelei unraveled them. The gash underneath looked alarminglydeep—andripe for infection. Lorelei’s stomach bottomed out, her thoughts going to static. Fear nearly pulled her under, but she dug her fingers into her knee and grounded herself.

She could do this.

“I’m going to have to suture it.”

Sylvia looked aghast. “Suture?You? You’re more suited to taking things apart.”

Lorelei gave her a nasty smile. “Unfortunately for you, Johann isn’t here. Unless you’d like to take your chances with sepsis, you’re going to have to make do with me.”

Seemingly cowed, Sylvia kept her mouth shut. The difficultpart—gettingher tocooperate—wasover. All that remained was staying conscious. Lorelei hesitated for a moment, then pulled one glove off. Sylvia took a sharp breath, then turned resolutely away from her as though she’d seen something profane. Lorelei almost wanted to make her look.