11 Otto

11

Otto

The council bickers. The Grenzwache argues. Everyone has a different plan, and yet no one seems to know what to do right now.

But what we need to do is obvious.

"I'm going to go back to Trier," I say, "and I am going to kill Dieter myself."

My words silence the room. Fritzi slips her hand in mine. " We are."

"Not alone," Cornelia snaps at the same time Brigitta says, "The guard will join you. We already have some in Trier. They should have reported back by now, but regardless, we'll reconvene and come up with a tactical plan."

"We have to move fast," I say. I can feel the years of training upon me. I was a Kapit?n in more than just name. I glance at Brigitta, who nods, allowing me to take charge. "Dieter knows a way to…compromise Fritzi."

"I know of some guarding spells that will help," Cornelia interjects. "But…" Her eyes go to the other council members. Rochus ignores her, taking the page from Fritzi's fingers and scowling at it.

I don't know how much I trust simple spells against Dieter, and I don't want Fritzi to have to guard her body and her mind from her abuser.

"Regardless," I continue, "we cannot let Dieter go on. He must be stopped."

"You have no idea." Rochus's voice is hollow and dark. Everyone else watches him, but he is zeroed in on the parchment, barely glancing up from it as he turns to Philomena. "He can't do anything if he doesn't have them all."

What does that mean? I wonder.

"He can do much," Philomena says to Rochus, her voice a razor edge of warning. Her gaze shifts from Rochus to the rest of us. She looks around the room, finally settling on Brigitta. "What is your purpose?"

"To protect the magic that protects my people," Brigitta answers immediately, speaking the words like the mantra they are.

"And it is magic itself that is at stake now." Philomena's voice rings with authority. "This is no longer just about one girl and her demented brother."

Fritzi flinches, and I squeeze her hand, glaring at the pompous priestess.

"This is about a grasping witch who wants to break the magic of this world," she concludes.

Outside, the wind is howling, branches scraping against the windows and walls of this sanctuary built into the trees. But, while vast, this tree is not the Tree, the Origin Tree that's hidden even in the Well.

Cornelia shifts closer to Rochus, reading the words etched on the scorched page. Her face goes pale, her mouth slack in horror.

"What aren't you telling us?" I demand, whipping my furious gaze out at the members of the council, the priest and priestesses.

Fritzi takes a shaking breath. That's what kills me. The fear she's trying to hide. She repeats the words she read on the page before: "‘Three stones and one spark: water, air, earth, and fire in the heart.'"

"Please," Cornelia whispers, "don't." Her eyes are downcast, as if the words themselves hurt her. Philomena and Rochus glower behind her.

But none of them steps forward with an explanation. Whatever it is Fritzi's read—a spell of some sort—it's the key to all of this, and still, still , they cling to their secrets.

"Is that a picture of the Tree?" Brigitta asks, looking at the page in Fritzi's hand. She turns to the council. "Is this a spell to burn the Tree?"

Cornelia steps forward, and Philomena grabs her elbow.

"Is it really better for you to keep us all in the dark when Dieter knows more than us?" I snarl. "Secrets will kill us as surely as he will."

Cornelia's jaw clenches. "You're right," she says, ripping her arm free of Philomena's grasp. "The Origin Tree is the connection between our world and the goddesses. It is through the Tree that all magic flows."

"Why is there a spell to destroy it?" Brigitta asks. She's moved even closer to us, and so have several of the Watch. Her eyes narrow in rage. "And why was I never informed? How am I supposed to fulfill my oaths to protect magic if you do not even tell me about this potential danger?"

We're drawing battle lines.

"Because magic is a gift." Cornelia's shoulders sag. "And a gift can be refused. If there was ever a time when magic was causing more harm than good, the goddesses gave us a…a fail-safe. A way to sever our world from theirs."

"Water…air…earth…" Brigitta says, reading the paper Fritzi holds. "The elements?"

"Each goddess used a key—a stone—to create the Tree," Cornelia explains. "And each goddess worked with one of her champions to hide or protect those stones. The Tree is otherwise indestructible. But if you bring all three stones back to the Origin Tree, it can be burned with witch fire."

"That's what Dieter wants to do," Fritzi whispers, but everyone hears her.

"Why?" Brigitta gapes at her. "Wouldn't destroying the Tree destroy magic?"

"The Tree is like a dam. Burning it down will open the floodgates. All the magic will pour out—likely into him." Fritzi's voice is hollow, monotone, and I realize it's because she's so deeply aware of how horrific this situation is, in a way no one else in the room grasps.

Her brother, her brother , would let the entire world crumble just so he could have more power. And he is willing to burn up his sister's soul to do it.

"It is cataclysmic," Philomena states, tilting her chin up. "Abnoba gave her stone to the council. We protect it here."

Brigitta makes a noise in the back of her throat, a growl of frustration. I'm not sure if she's mad at the council for having kept this secret from her or if she's worried that whatever protections they've cast aren't enough.

"Where is it?" I ask. "Because whatever you're doing to keep it safe is probably not enough."

"Don't tell me!" Fritzi screeches, her face draining of color. She looks wildly around at Cornelia, Rochus, and Philomena. "Don't let me know. Don't—" Her voice breaks in a sob. "You can't trust me with secrets, not with Dieter able to…"

Bile rises in my throat, and I wrap Fritzi in my arms.

"It is safe," Philomena says, and for the first time ever, I think I hear some actual human emotion in the cold witch's voice.

But Dieter has found ways to break through the protections around the Black Forest before.

I glance at Fritzi, who looks more terrified than ever. We can't talk about this in front of her, not when she fears her mind is being spied on. I want to know where the other stones are, but I have to trust that they are safe—at least for now. From what I know of the goddesses, I doubt they just tossed the stones into the sea or something like that. If this is truly about a choice, the means to destroy magic have to still be accessible to someone determined to do so.

Someone like Dieter.

"We have to get to Trier," Fritzi says. Her eyes take a moment to focus on the room, and I realize she'd been talking to her goddess, Holda, while everyone else has been wondering how much she can safely hear.

"That's exactly what I want to do," I say. Go to Trier and eliminate the threat of Dieter.

"No, you don't understand." Fritzi clutches my hands. "Dieter is in Trier, Holda says, but so is her stone."

"What?!" I shout as the room erupts in chaos.

Fritzi's voice rises above the commotion. "She's been watching the city carefully. She says he didn't know about the stone before." Her face settles into grim worry. "He knows now."

Birresborn isn't far from Trier; going from the village to the city would have been a logical step for Dieter. But if Holda's stone is in that city already, and he now knows that it's there…

"Does he already have the stone?" Cornelia asks, blanching.

Fritzi shakes her head. "Holda tells me it's still safe. But…" She frowns, concentrating on the voice only she can hear. "She can't see Dieter. He's blocking her, so she can't tell if he's close—but she does know the stone, at least, is untouched. For now." It makes sense that the goddess doesn't say exactly where it is, but it's still frustrating to have to dance around knowledge.

"We will have to send troops to the city," Rochus says grimly.

Now they care about Trier. They watched the city fall to darkness and a reign of terror, watched the innocents burn. But since the people burned had not been actual witches, just innocent humans who'd been accused by corrupt people in power, they…just had done nothing.

Fritzi leans in closer to me. I know she knows what I'm thinking, not because of our bonding, but because she shares my rage at the council's apathy.

"The council will focus on the protection of the stone we hold here," Philomena insists, her tone ringing with authority. "Even if Dieter claims Holda's stone in Trier, he cannot possibly find Perchta's, and the third will be protected. We must concentrate all forces here in order to ensure that protection."

Rochus nods with her. But I can tell that Cornelia, Brigitta, the rest of the guards…

We doubt.

We doubt the safety of the council's stone. We doubt the security of the goddesses' stones.

We doubt that the Tree—and all magic, all the world—is safe.

What we do not doubt is that Dieter will find a way to get what he wants.

"We have to kill him," I say again, even more certain now.

Brigitta nods, understanding me. The stones are not safe because the council guards one in the Well and the other two are hidden, especially if one of the hidden stones is already so close to where Dieter is. The only way the stones will be safe is if Dieter is dead.

"Trier," Brigitta says, the word an order. We all ignore the way Philomena sputters at her.

"Trier," I say. "Best case, Dieter's not found the stone, and we kill him. Worst case, he's found the stone, and we still kill him."

"He may not be in Trier," Cornelia reminds us.

But the stone is. "New best case," I say, "we find the stone first, take it back here for protection, and then kill Dieter."

"I will lead another contingent of Grenzwache," Brigitta states, turning to the priest and priestesses in the room.

"I believe that may be a bit…too obvious," Cornelia says. "Baden-Baden may have been swayed to tolerate us, but marching a militant branch of our coven through the principalities may not go over so well with the rest of the Holy Empire."

"So we operate undercover," I offer. "We can appear as…nomadic merchants. Pilgrims. Something."

"You're not assassins!" Philomena says. "You cannot just leave your posts at the Well! If we protect the stone we have, and—"

"No, they're right," Rochus says, touching her shoulder. "Even if he never gets the earth stone, the water and air stones are powerful in their own right. He could cause such destruction…"

"On the lands of the people who would burn us," Philomena snarls. "They wanted the hexenj?gers. Let them deal with the monster they created."

Cornelia and Rochus both gape at the priestess.

"Perchta is the Mother," Fritzi says quietly. "Does she love the children without magic less than the ones with it? Is your goddess truly willing to let children die just because they are not in the Black Forest with us?"

Nothing could have silenced the priestess more.

"I may be the Maid's champion," Fritzi adds, "but I don't think the Mother easily forgets her children. Any of them."

I hold Fritzi tighter. I know without a doubt that she's not thinking of the Mother goddess Perchta; she's thinking of her own mother, who loved Dieter too much to kill him. Her mother could only banish him, because even when she knew he had become something twisted, something dark…

She still loved him.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to Fritzi while the council starts planning with Brigitta. "I know he's your brother."

She swallows, her eyes sliding away. "He's not. At least…he's not the brother I thought I knew. Not the brother I remember. Whatever he is now, he's…twisted."

And beyond saving.

I'm not sure if it's her thought or mine.

The quiet certainty in my heart that I must kill Dieter is like a stone weighing down the bridge between us. This mess happened because I did not see it through in Baden-Baden. I must be the one to assure Fritzi she is safe, and the only way I can do that is…

Our dual intent is held between us by grief and sorrow, by guilt and regret. But that concept— Dieter must die —has no doubt attached to it. From either of us.

I squeeze her hand, then turn to the others in the room, even if they're so lost in their plans they barely notice us. "You may all figure out what you want to do, who will come with us. But at dawn, Fritzi and I are riding to Trier."

"You are not," Philomena snaps. "The stone the council holds here needs to be protected. Fritzi is our champion, and you are her warrior, and—"

"I am not your champion," Fritzi says, her voice low and monotone and terrifying. "I am Holda's champion. I do not answer to you, and you would do best not to think you can command me."

Silence weaves around the room. Fritzi stands strong, glaring at everyone, daring them all to try to object.

And then a tiny voice cuts through the awkward quiet. "Me too."

Everyone's attention whips to the door, where little Liesel stands wearing nothing but her long chemise, her blond curls shining in the candlelight. "Is it true?" she asks, stepping fully inside. "I heard… Fritzi, is he back?"

Her eyes are red rimmed and wide; her face is splotchy. When she looks up at me, I'm sure she can see the weariness in my body, the aftermath of my fight with Dieter as he possessed Fritzi, the blood on the walls, the destruction. She can smell the smoke that clings to my hair, and this little girl with an affinity for fire and a background of her own abuse at Dieter's hand must also smell the different sort of smoke, the burning smell of Fritzi's skin. Her lips tremble; her eyes water.

"I'm so sorry," Fritzi says, her voice breaking into a sob as she drops to her knees. Liesel rushes to her, wrapping her arms around her.

"Careful!" Cornelia says, unaware that Fritzi has been healing on her own. Her blisters are gone, the thin cut around her jaw no more than a shadow. Even her split lip is a narrow scab that belies the severity of the cut before. Magic , I think, shaking my head.

Liesel pulls away from Fritzi and glares at me so fiercely that I flinch. "You were supposed to kill him before," she accuses.

"I thought I had." The poison in Baden-Baden rendered him powerless, and the hexenj?gers had finished the job. I'd thought. I'm the planner, though, the warrior who should be prepared for every threat. I should have known; I should have finished the job myself; I should have…

Fritzi's hand taps my knuckles, and I look up and see her watching me. Our connection isn't clear, but it's enough for her to not let me spiral into a dark hole of guilt.

"Catholic," she accuses gently.

"Guilty," I answer, aware of the irony.

"You're going to do it now, right?" Liesel asks, her little voice brooking no argument. "You're going to make sure he stops?"

I look her right in the eyes. "I swear."

"I'm going to help," Liesel declares.

There's immediate uproar, from the captain of the guards all the way to the high priest and priestesses. I see the hard set in Liesel's jaw, the way her tiny fingers curl into fists. Before she can say anything, I raise my arm.

Miraculously, the others quiet.

"Liesel, I need your help," I say, my attention solely on the little girl.

Her fists relax. She raises one hand up, sparks flickering on her fingertips. "I will help you. He hurt Fritzi. He needs to be stopped."

I shake my head. "I don't mean help like that."

She stomps her foot. "I can help! I'm a champion too! Abnoba chose me!"

"I know," I say before anyone can interrupt. I can feel Fritzi's eyes on me, the trust she has for me. "I know," I tell Liesel again. "But we don't know where Dieter is."

"He's in Trier, you said."

"I guessed ," I answer quickly. "But I don't know . And if he comes here, we need a champion to be here to help protect the Well. How much did you hear? There's a stone the council has, and—"

I can see the rebellion rising in Liesel's eyes. The Well is not a place Dieter can easily breach. This is the safe option for Liesel, and she knows it. But she also knows the gravity of the situation. The stone the council has must be kept safe. This isn't a distraction, but an important task.

"Please, Liesel," Fritzi whispers.

Emotion wars on the little girl's face. Liesel is far too clever to not see how we're manipulating her with this. But she is, no matter what she says, still a child. One I've sworn to protect.

I lean closer to her. "And can you stay with Hilde?" I ask. "Protect her if…" It's a low blow, and I know it. Liesel is keenly aware of what it's like to have only one family member left alive.

"Do you promise to kill him right this time?" she grumbles, glaring at me.

"I swear."

Liesel huffs a sigh. "Fine."

She turns to Fritzi, giving her another hug, and I'm reminded again that Dieter may be related to them both, but he hurt them in a way that can never be forgotten. And whatever chance of forgiveness and family he may have had left, he long ago burned it as surely as he burned both girls.

Still wrapped in Fritzi's arms, I hear Liesel whisper, "You have to tell me everything so I can write it down for my epic, and I mean it, Fritzi, you have to tell me everything. "

When they pull apart, Liesel's eyes are redder than before as she looks up at her cousin. "Promise to come back."

"I promise."

Liesel turns. The three of us had all forgotten about the others, but when Liesel looks at Rochus, Philomena, Cornelia, Brigitta, and all the rest, she commands their attention. "Well, that's all settled then," she says firmly. "Fritzi and Otto are going. And you guys can figure out the rest without us." Liesel takes Fritzi's hand and starts to lead her away. I hear some of the others muttering protests, but Liesel glowers so fiercely that the way parts before us.

She's right. Fritzi and I need rest. Because at dawn, we leave.

Liesel doesn't relax until we're back outside. She holds Fritzi's hand as we cross the bridges to Fritzi's home, and then the cousins hug again.

When they pull apart and Fritzi steps inside, Liesel glances at me, blocking my entrance. She looks mad, but I know her well enough to see that she's frightened.

I give the girl a carefree smile. "Don't you want me to promise to come back too?" I ask.

Liesel shrugs, refusing to make eye contact. "Come back if you want to, I guess."

She steps aside, and I enter Fritzi's room.

Before I can close the door, Liesel grabs my arm, pulls me closer, and hugs me around the waist.

I can feel her tears, hot and wet, soaking through my tunic. I drop a kiss on the top of her head. "I promise," I tell her.

Once the door closes, I turn to Fritzi. She pulls down the shoulder of her chemise, exposing her clavicle and the brand Dieter put on her. The scar is perfectly shaped, a clear letter D.

The hexenj?gers used that brand. It meant D?mon.

But I realized after Fritzi escaped her brother the first time that the brand was a torture that he came up with, not the archbishop. And it was a way of labeling his own handiwork.

D for Dieter.

He wanted to claim her—her magic, her self—as his.

"Here is what I know, Liebste," I say gently, calling her focus back to me. "What he did to you does not define you. Dieter runs about this world claiming possession of anything he wants. But I am yours because I give myself to you. It is a choice I make with every breath I take. He may have bound you to him by force…"

Her hand flutters to the scarred brand.

"...but he has no concept of how much stronger a bond is when it is a gift."

She looks at the floor, but I can still see the worry and fear etched on her brow. I put my finger under her chin and tilt her face up, waiting until she focuses on me. I want to say something that will ease the anxiety clenching her heart; I want to have the right words to make her see herself as I see her, to have as much faith in her as I do. But when she looks at me, I find I can say nothing more than, "I love you."

And perhaps that is enough. She wraps her arms around me, pulling herself up to my lips, our kiss a promise more powerful than any fear.

The next morning, we gather outside of Hilde's house. Brigitta obviously spent the night with my sister, something we all tacitly ignore as the Grenzwache arrives separately. Brigitta has selected five fighters to join us, and Hilde passes out brown cloaks that are intended to be a part of our disguise as pilgrims to pay respect to the remains of Saint Simeon. The chosen soldiers are all grim about the mission, all but Alois, who bounces like a colt.

"I can't believe I missed all the action last night," Alois mutters, but he shuts up pretty fast when he catches the look on my face.

I ignore him and head over to my sister. "Do you mind keeping an eye on Liesel?"

"Of course not," Hilde says. "Liesel is a dear."

"You do know she has the ability to burn this entire village to the ground if she has a temper tantrum, right?"

"She would never!" Hilde gasps.

"Yeah, I would never." Liesel pops out from around the corner, Hilde's cat trailing behind her, mewing for more attention.

"Honestly, how could you even suggest something like that from such a sweetheart?" Hilde says, glaring at me as she stoops to give Liesel a hug.

While my sister's back is to me, arms around her, Liesel sticks out her tongue at me, a tiny flicker of flame dancing on the tip. She giggles innocently and goes inside Hilde's house. My sister follows her, and I can already hear her promising Liesel more cookies.

When I turn around, I see Cornelia approaching. Rochus and Philomena are wildly opposed to a priestess taking up arms, but they cannot control her.

The priestess goes straight to Fritzi. When I reach them, Cornelia gives Fritzi a silver charm on a leather thong. "I do not know how powerful Dieter's magic has become, or what the nature of his cursed connection is," she says, "but this should keep your mind and body safe from possession."

Fritzi slips the necklace over her head, tugging her blond curls free. "He can't get in my head anymore?" The tremble in her voice blinds me with rage.

"You're safe," Cornelia confirms. "The bond between you and Otto has already proven effective. Now that you know Dieter's formed this horrid connection, you'll be able to fight it. And this will help." Cornelia leans in, giving Fritzi a hug. "You're safe," she repeats.