Chapter Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

Adelheid and Heike stood only a few meters behind them, dripping from the ends of their hair. They were dark shapes carved out against the eerie glow of the cavern.

Heike looked different than Lorelei had ever seen her, like something had cracked within her and been clumsily papered over. But through her dishevelment, she burned with steadfast purpose. The look on Adelheid’s face, Lorelei recognized all too well. She had worn it herself every day for years. Cold fire smoldered within her green eyes, hollowing them out of everything but her rage. All of them were haunted women. Violence had broken and reforged them, and the sharp edges it left behind made them dangerous.

“Step away from the Ursprung,” Adelheid said. “You don’t know what that will do to you.”

Reluctantly, Lorelei let Sylvia go. “Neither do you.”

Adelheid smiled humorlessly.

“How did you get here?” Sylvia asked breathlessly.

“It wasn’t so difficult to retrace your steps.”

Their arrival shouldn’t have been a surprise. Normally, Lorelei would have been more attuned to her surroundings. But her single-mindedness, once her strength, had narrowed the scope of her world. For one precious night, nothing had existed but the two of them. How stupid she’d been.

“This is an impasse,” Lorelei said. “You have played the game admirably, Adelheid, but you’re out of pawns. It’s over.”

“This is far from over.” Adelheid threw out her arms, and the water in her hair and clothes burst from her in a cloud of mist. It coalesced in front of her, as sharp as a lance, and seethed like a heat shimmer.

Sylvia’s jaw tightened. “Adelheid, peace! We can talk through this and be sensible—”

“No. I have heard enough talk to last a lifetime.”

It was the only warning she gave them before she launched herself forward. She was a barrage of steel and fury, shaping the water into a whip. It lashed out with the force of a gale, then solidified into ice as it struck Lorelei in the ribs hard enough that she dropped to her knees. It shattered on impact, shards raining down on the stone with a bright, clattering sound.

With a flex of her fingers, the whip reassembled itself, too quickly for Lorelei to regain her bearings. It cut through the air and landed a decisive blow on Sylvia’s shoulder, directly over her wound. It was a cheap shot—but effective. Sylvia let out a strangled gasp of pain.

Adelheid took the opportunity to disarm her. Another flick of her wrist, and Sylvia’s saber flew out of her hand. It slid end over end across the floor, striking the cavern wall with a bell-like clang . Water curled around Adelheid’s ankles and flowed into her open palm. Slowly, it crystallized into a pike, which she pointed directly at Sylvia’s throat.

“Well fought,” she said, without a hint of sarcasm. Her gaze flickered to Lorelei where she lay sprawled on the ground. “Don’t move. It would pain me to kill her now, but I will if I must.”

Sylvia glared at Adelheid, clutching her shoulder. “Is there finally enough blood on your hands?”

“What is she talking about?” Heike demanded.

Adelheid set her jaw and ignored her.

“You still haven’t told her?” Lorelei gritted out. “Do you plan to before or after you run Wilhelm through?”

Heike’s mouth opened, then snapped shut again. But a shadow crossed her expression: doubt. Just enough of a weakness for Lorelei to exploit. “You’re lying.”

“Adelheid resents Wilhelm for his inaction in Ebul. She plans to take the power of the Ursprung for herself and—”

“I plan to see what power it can offer him,” Adelheid replied coolly. “Do not move.”

Despite the uncertainty that lit her eyes, Heike lifted her hands as though preparing to channel aether. With that ice blade pressed to the underside of Sylvia’s delicate throat, Lorelei did not dare open her mouth again. There was nothing she could do to stop her with brute force. Adelheid was as skilled as Johann had been with magic—and twice as controlled.

Adelheid crouched beside the spring and dipped her cupped hands into it. The water cradled in her palms lay dark and still as she brought it to her lips and drank. For a few moments, she remained where she was, her chin tilted upward and waiting for…what, exactly? Some divine parting of the clouds?

Nothing happened.

Lorelei’s breath rushed out of her.

Adelheid stood and turned sharply toward them, as though seeking some explanation. Her expression crumpled with confusion. Once again, Lorelei was reminded of why she despised the inconstancy of fairy tales. Perhaps she’d taken too small a dose. Perhaps she needed to submerge herself. Perhaps, like the boy who slayed the dragon, she needed to drown.

Or perhaps it was something simpler.

Lorelei could not help smiling. “You’ve been found wanting.”

Adelheid’s face contorted with a cold, quiet rage. “How can that be? My cause is just.”

“Your cause ?” Understanding seemed to dawn slowly on Heike. “They’re not lying? You did this? All of this?”

Adelheid squeezed her eyes shut. When she reopened them, her cold mask was back in place. “I did this to protect us.”

“Us?” Heike echoed. “You dare say this was for us ? Johann is dead, Adelheid—and Ludwig is well on his way! You won’t stop until you’ve done away with us all—until you kill the one person in this godforsaken kingdom who can save me!”

“Who am I, then? I would have kept you safe,” Adelheid pleaded. “Wilhelm would have eaten you alive.”

Lorelei averted her eyes. “As touching as this is…”

They ignored her. Heike raked her hands through her hair. “God, you’re delusional. It’s just like all the stories promised. The Ursprung brings nothing but misfortune to those who don’t deserve it. All you’ve wrought is death—all for nothing.”

Adelheid bowed her head. “No. Not for nothing. There’s still another way.”

There was. She could still seize its power—in exchange for a horrible price.

“Don’t do it,” Lorelei shouted. “It will kill you, you fool!”

Adelheid did not hesitate. She dove, plunging under the water’s surface with a splash.

The three of them crowded at the edge of the spring. It was far deeper than it looked. Adelheid sank lower and lower, her hair like a bright vein of gold. The light shimmering on the Ursprung’s surface pulsed like a heartbeat. Then, it began to bubble and hiss. Aether crackled through the air like lightning poised to strike.

After what felt like an eternity, the water—and Adelheid—went perfectly still. She settled on the bottom of the spring, her lungs filling up with water like stones in her pockets. Her eyes stared unseeingly up at them, then floated shut. Her lips were parted in something like a smile.

“Help me get her out,” Lorelei snapped at Heike. “Now.”

For once, Heike did not complain.

Together, with aether buoying her, they brought Adelheid to the surface. Water streaked her face, leaving her cheeks dewy and her lips shining. Her hair clung to her face and floated atop the surface like a halo splayed around her. She almost looked like she was sleeping, like a girl who’d bitten into a poisoned apple.

Heike looked away with a choked sob.

Sylvia paled. “She isn’t…?”

As carefully as she could, Lorelei dragged her onto the shore. No breath stirred her body. “I think—”

Adelheid’s eyes snapped open.

Lorelei reeled back. Adelheid’s eyes were a strange shade of blue, as deep as the ocean at dusk. They glowed faintly, with sparks that mirrored the motes of aether glinting in the air. She looked only half alive—and only half human.

Adelheid coughed and rolled onto her side. Water poured from her mouth—more than Lorelei would have thought possible. As soon as she finished, she collapsed in a heap again, curling in on herself with a soft groan. Her lips parted weakly, slick with water and bloodied spittle. But her eyes were overbright and glassy, drinking in the cavern with a ravenous wonder. She looked as if she were seeing the world for the very first time.

“Adelheid,” Sylvia said uncertainly. “Are you…all right?”

Adelheid eased herself upright, shuddering. “Yes. I feel…”

She lifted her hand in front of her face. She admired the flex of her fingers, the roll of her wrist, as though her own body was some perfect machine. Slowly, the water lifted off her skin in fat droplets. They floated skyward as though gravity had been reversed, each one gleaming like a pearl. The air thickened oppressively with moisture. The ferns dripping from the cavern’s slick stone walls curled toward Adelheid as though she were the sun.

Lorelei felt suddenly flushed—and when she looked at her own quickly reddening hands, she realized with horror that her blood was pushing toward the surface of her skin.

“I feel everything.”

Adelheid’s golden hair lifted from the back of her neck. Water gathered in a cloud above her, thick and angry. Rain began to fall through the cavern’s opening, slowly at first—and then in squalls. A hailstone struck Lorelei across the forehead, and she flung up an arm to protect her face. They were standing in the middle of a storm with Adelheid at its center.

“Adelheid,” Sylvia shouted, “you don’t have to do this. We can all escape this together.”

“And let you return to Albe to raise your armies against me? No. Our childhood days are long over, Sylvia.”

Sylvia’s face hardened with resolve. “Then you leave me no choice.”

Adelheid looked at her impassively. “I could boil your blood where I stand.”

Lorelei believed it. The pressure in the room made her ears pop. She had never seen anything quite like this, even from the most proficient mages. The only thing keeping her grounded was the sickly pallor of Adelheid’s skin. Power like this always came at a price, just as every tale she’d collected promised.

Lorelei curled her lip. “So do it.”

Adelheid pinned her with that horrible, inhuman stare. But rather than Lorelei’s blood boiling, the water from the spring rose behind Adelheid. It was eerily clear, like a crashing wave preserved in glass, and Adelheid like a goddess beneath it.

She threw her arms forward.

Lorelei braced herself. If Adelheid was flagging, she could deflect it. Drawing in her breath, she focused her will on the wave hurtling toward her. It glanced off uselessly, as though she possessed not a scrap of power. She hardly had a moment to be surprised before the water broke over her and sent her tumbling off her feet. She couldn’t catch her bearings. It was as though she’d been dragged out to sea and thrown a thousand leagues down. Lorelei scrabbled against the floor and steadied herself just in time to see Heike’s skull hit the limestone wall with a dull crack . She slumped onto the ground.

Adelheid studied her with only a flicker of regret. Then, she bolted.

“Stop her!”

If she made it back to the boats first, she would abandon the rest of them here. Lorelei scrambled to her feet. Heike lay dazed on the ground, a trickle of blood oozing from the wound in the back of her head. Lorelei’s stomach turned at the sight of it.

Sylvia crouched beside Heike and placed her finger beneath her nose. “She’s still breathing, just out cold. Concussed, most likely.”

“Good,” Lorelei said dispassionately. “Watch her. I’ll go after Adelheid.”

“What?” Sylvia spluttered. “No! We will go after her.”

“Heike needs medical attention that we can’t give. The next best thing is to monitor her. Secondly…”

There was far too much to say and far too little time.

Secondly, I couldn’t bear to see harm befall you.

I couldn’t exist in a world without you.

What me is there without you?

For so long, Lorelei had existed in spite of Sylvia and because of her. All the words tangled on her tongue. In the end, she settled on “If you die, there will be no one to tell those in Ruhigburg what happened here.”

Sylvia scoffed. “I’m not going to die.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“Neither can you!” Sylvia flushed. God, she was so stubborn . “There is so much more to living than fear, Lorelei. For once in your life, let someone worry for you the way you worry for others.” Sylvia cupped her cheek and held her gaze steadily. “Let me worry about you.”

In Sylvia’s shining eyes, she saw freedom.

Maybe, just this once, she could be the hero of a story like this. Maybe, just maybe, there was a happily ever after waiting for her on the other side of this nightmare.

“Fine, you impossible fool. What do you propose we do?”

“Exactly what you suggested.” Sylvia frowned. “If we hope to survive against her, I will need to use the Ursprung.”

“Are you sure?”

Sylvia grinned winningly at her. “You doubt me, then? Do you mean to take back all the kind things you said?”

Lorelei shot her a decidedly unkind look. Sylvia laughed. As they approached the Ursprung, she sobered. Sylvia knelt before it like a penitent before an altar. At both Lorelei’s and Adelheid’s touch, the water had lain dormant. But when Sylvia dipped her fingers into the spring, the entire cavern seemed to come to life. The air sighed across the back of Lorelei’s neck. Every strange, beautiful bloom reached toward Sylvia. Bands of glittering aether swirled around her wrists.

And when she raised the water to her lips and drank, it was as though she swallowed the moon itself. Light bloomed beneath her skin and radiated softly outward. Even her eyes glowed with the spring’s strange, wondrous power.

Mondscheinprinzessin .

No, you fool, Lorelei thought. Just Sylvia.

And yet, she remained on her knees until Sylvia helped her rise.