Page 100 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

“Your brother?”

“Yes. When we were children . . .” Lorelei had not told anyone this story in years, and she didn’t know if she could bear to meet Sylvia’s eyes when she did it. Her mind drifted just above her body, allowing the memory to pass without touching her. “I had convinced him to sneak away from the temple with me. I was playing at being a naturalist, when some men from Ruhigburg crossed the gate into the Yevanverte.”

There was more she could say here, she supposed. But the exact unfolding of events had always eluded her. How many of them were there, really? What did any of them look like? It was the littlest, most inconsequential details that haunted her.

“They murdered him. It was like a game to them.”

“That’s...that’shorrific.”

The pain in Sylvia’s eyes taunted her. When she knew the whole truth, she would not look at her with such aching tenderness. “He told me to run, and I did. I ran.”

“Of course youdid—”

“You don’t understand. I left him to die. I abandoned him.” Her voice broke humiliatingly. “So you see, I have always been a coward. I would sacrifice anyone and anything to survive.”

Lorelei closed her eyes. She could not bear to see what she knew would be awaiting her. Reproach. Disgust. Blame. But when she dared look at Sylvia again, her eyes were agonizingly soft.

“What else could you have done?” Sylvia took her elbow in her hand, pulling her closer. “Lorelei, be rational in this, as you are in all other things. You were a child. They would have killed you, too. You’re very lucky they didn’t.”

“I’m not sure I was lucky.” The words caught in her throat.

“I didn’t think I was, either, in the beginning.” Sylvia smiled ruefully. “I did not know Aaron, but if that was his final act, he was incredibly brave and kind. He did not want justice from you, Lorelei. He wanted you to live.”

Over her shoulder, she could faintly make Aaron out. Her eternal shadow, her tormenter, her little lamb.

His face was still boyishly round, his frame still gawky. As she forced herself to hold his unblinking stare, she saw it was not as baleful as she always imagined. In fact, she could hardly discern any of his features at all. They were shrouded, as if he lay submerged beneath murky waters. The realization nearly knocked her breathless. He was slipping away from her.

Perhaps she was the one who hadn’t let him go.

“Live,” she repeated. “I’m not sure I know how anymore.”

“For now, just breathe.” Sylvia slid her palms up to cradle her jaw. “Focus on me. Stay with me.”

I have for years, she might have said. How could she not?

But what came out was a bare exhalation. “I’ll try.”

***

The deeper they pressed into the woods, the stranger it became. It felt as though there were a thousand eyes blinking out at them from the darkness. White mushrooms bloomed thick from fallen logs, their gills rippling as they passed. The spores were faintly bioluminescent, twinkling in the gathering dark like fireflies. Everything smelled green, like damp and decay.

Here in her element, Sylvia seemed lighter. She stopped every now and again, rapping lightly on tree trunks as if calling on a neighbor, or crouching to pour water over their roots. Waldschratten emerged in their ragged leaf-cloaks to speak with her in exchange for baubles and scraps of bread. It all felt patently ridiculous, but Lorelei had no choice but to put her faith in Sylvia. She claimed the wildeleute never steered her wrong.

Lorelei supposed Sylvia had never led her astray, either.

She forged ahead of Lorelei to gallantly hold back a branch strung with a tangle of vines. Lorelei had half a mind to scold her for her thoughtfulness, yet she couldn’t find it in herself to object. Her palmshad spent the past few hours alternating between throbbing agony and blissful numbness. She brushed pastSylvia—onlyto almost topple headlong into what looked like an enormous hole in the ground.

She scrambled back a step. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Here we are,” Sylvia said with a smug little smile.

Lorelei couldn’t see what there was to be proud of. In truth, she did not know what she was looking at. As she leaned over the edge, she realized they were standing beside a karstic spring. The water was mirror-smooth, ringed in impossible shades of blue like a sliver of agate. No power radiated from it. The reflection of her own haggard face stared back at her in bewilderment.

“Thisis the Ursprung?”

“What? No, of course not,” Sylvia protested. “This leads to a network of underwater caves. The waldschratten suggested the Ursprung would be somewhere beyond them.”

“Caves,” Lorelei repeated.