Page 74 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Perfect! It will be easy. You will need to be quiet and project an aura of total calm.” Lorelei considered herself capable of a great many things, butprojecting an aura of total calmwas not one of them. Sylvia seemed to realize her mistake, for she added,“Ah...Well,maybe don’t followtooclosely.”

Together, they slid down a rocky embankment and into the tall grass. Lorelei stayed as low as she could while still keeping her sights on Sylvia. She winnowed through the field soundlessly, but as she approached, the mara lifted their heads.

The largest of the herd regarded her with those otherworldly crimson eyes, its ears pricked warily forward. Step by step, Sylvia approached it, one hand extended. Lorelei couldn’t bear to watch, and yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. That beast had to be twice her size. When at last Sylvia stood within arm’s reach, she petted its nose as though it were as docile as a pony.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Lorelei muttered.

The wind carried the soft sound of Sylvia’s singing to her. Sylvia slipped her fingers into the mara’s diaphanous mane. Without any hesitation, she hoisted herself onto its back.

Lorelei’s heart dropped into her stomach. This was it. This time, she truly would watch Sylvia die. One moment ticked away, then another. When nothing catastrophic happened, Lorelei forced herself to breathe again.

Sylvia guided the mara toward Lorelei. When it stood before her, Lorelei stared up at Sylvia with dumbstruck awe. The pale light of the sun haloed her. She was utterly resplendent. She looked like an angel, or perhaps a fairy-tale knight. Neither option was good.

As calmly as she could manage, she said, “That is very dangerous.”

“I know.” She extended a hand to Lorelei, the picture of gentlewomanly grace. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Lorelei’s heart thudded too fast in her chest. For the first time in five years, Sylvia had said something that shocked her beyond words, beyond derision. She didn’t think she’d ever heard those words before in all her life.

I’ve clearly lost my senses.

Lorelei allowed herself to be pulled into a seat. At once, she hated everything about it. The ground was impossibly far below her. Sylvia was pressed distractingly against her back. And now, a reedy little voice was slithering around her head. It didn’t seem to be speaking any language she could discern, but it offered clear suggestions all the same. It made things likelet goandsurrenderpop unbidden to mind.

When she pointed it out, Sylvia only laughed. “Yes, they do that. Ready?”

“I suppose.” Even her voice sounded jaundiced.

“All right,” Sylvia said against the back of her neck. She sounded breathlessly giddy. “Hold on!”

Lorelei barely had time to tangle her hands in its mane before the mara took off at a gallop. The world streaked to a blur of color around them.

She screamed, which only made Sylvia laugh harder. Her eyes watered from the sting of the wind on her face. It hissed in her ears, doing nothing to drown out the mara’s insistent voice. The iron chain around her neck burned, as though she’d dipped it in fire before fastening it around her neck. Somewhere beneath it all, she thought she might be afraid. Buteverything—herghosts, her fears, this entireexpedition—feltso far away from her now. They ran so fast, she swore they were one bound from taking flight.

Aaron, if only you could see me now.

When Lorelei glanced back, Sylvia was grinning at her. Her hair had come loose from the braid and lashed the air behind them. Her excitement was infectious. It was as intoxicating as wine, her stupid smile even more so. Lorelei’s own tugged stubbornly at the corner of her lips.

She really had been blind, if she had refused to acknowledge how beautiful Sylvia was before now. The Absolute was much closer than she’d ever believed. It was not in God, not in nature. It was right here before her. Close enough to touch.

Close enough to profane.

You stupid fool, she thought. All those years spent watching Sylvia, dissecting her, envyingher...Itleft a window open for something else to slip through.

After living among the nobility for so long, it seemed Lorelei had forgotten how vast the gulf between them truly was. There was no world in which this schoolgirl fantasy could be made real. Their stations were too different.Theywere too different. Sylvia would be cast in Lorelei’s shadow, her brilliance dulled. She would tarnish like old silver at her very touch. Lorelei’s chest felt painfully tight. This sharp stab of longing was a bittersweet and sorely needed reminder.

If they survived this, they would not be colleagues forever. When the documents detailing the disaster of the Ruhigburg Expedition were filed away in some minister’s dusty cabinets, they would go their separate ways.

Lorelei knew the shape of a fairy tale: a prison. She had transcribed hundreds of them herself, written down her sordid end in her own tidy hand. Anything she might have imagined between her and the heiress of Albe had an ending already predetermined, if it was possible to imagine it at all. Maybe she truly was as covetous as these tales led the good people of Brunnestaad to believe.

Some things were not hers to possess.

Seventeen

BY THE TIME THEYmade it back down the summit, the sun was a bloody thumbprint against the horizon. Its light stained the snow a livid red. They nearly missed Ludwig’s shelter. It was half-buried, protruding from the snowdrifts like the wreckage of a ship.

“Stop!”

Before Sylvia even brought the mara to a halt, Lorelei slid off its back. Almost immediately, she crumpled to her knees with exhaustion. Just how long had they ridden for? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours, but she felt as though she’d swum for days without surfacing for air.