Page 33 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

The alp wailed piteously.

“And my wards were broken off the door,” she continued. “Someone let it on theship—thesame person, I assume, who murdered Ziegler. It knows something.”

“Alps are not loyal,” Sylvia said, clearly exasperated. “You have its tarnkappe. If it had the information you want, it would have told you immediately.”

“Yes, yes! Know nothing!” The alp nodded, looking beseechingly at Sylvia.

Sylvia shot Lorelei a sharp look that said,Hand it over.

Chastised, Lorelei sighed and tossed the cap to the alp. It snatched its tarnkappe with scrabbling claws and pulled it aggressively over its horns. It shot her a downright spiteful look. “Come back someday,” it hissed.

“I welcome it.”

The shadows whispered over it, and just like that, it vanished with the same gravity of a child slamming a bedroom door.

“Saints,” Sylvia muttered. “Quarreling with analpof all things. I would hate to see you encounter something that has a will to match yours.”

“I would say you fit the bill.”

“Yes, well.” Sylvia flushed. After a moment, she fixed Lorelei with a pained look. “Was that meant to be a compliment?”

“Take it as you like.” It occurred to her that she was still crouching at Sylvia’s feet. Clearing her throat, Lorelei rose to her full height and straightened the high collar of her greatcoat.

Sylvia crossed her arms, her mouth set in a pensive line. “You really believe someone set an alp on you?”

“Are your wards sound?”

“Of course they are! What do you take me for?”

Lorelei winced. Did she have to be soloud? “Then it couldn’t have gotten into my room without help.”

“This is very bad! You toldme—emphatically,mindyou—thatwe would be safe so long as we did not investigate. And now you’ve nearly died from analpdrücke.” The way she said it dripped with contempt, as though it were a very ignoble death indeed. Lorelei was almost offended. “How did you escape, anyway?”

“I offered it coffee.”

Sylvia fixed her with a very unusual expression. “I don’t recall ever discussing alps with you.”

“No?” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I’m certain you must have some time or another. Or perhaps I read it somewhere.”

“You must have, although I’m only aware of one book that discusses alps’ weakness for coffee.” A horrible, self-satisfied smile spread across her face. “Lorelei, haveyou...readmy books?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I have better things to do with my time.”

“You have!” Sylvia clapped her hands together. “Oh! I hardly know what to say. Did you like them?”

The truth was, Lorelei had read every word Sylvia had ever published.

For the first few months of her tenure at Ruhigburg University, Lorelei had not known her name. She only knew her as the white-haired girl who attended every single visiting scholar’s lecture with a clear intent to argue. Her hand shot upconstantly—sometimesher entire body, if she felt compelled to argue her point strongly. It was only after a while that someone interrupted her mid-speech and said,That’s enough, Miss von Wolff.

Von Wolff. She knew that name. Before the First War of Unification, she would have been royalty. Now she lived among her conquerors, all of them watching her for the moment she turned traitor. But most of all, Lorelei knew the shape of the name alongside her own. Ziegler kept a list of every student in the natural sciences department, each of them in order of rank.

Putting a face to the name filled her with a feeling she couldn’t entirely describe. Lorelei had always borne a grudging respect for her anonymous rival. She, too, must have understood what it was like to succeed when everyone wanted you to fail. But knowing that she was a bloviating try-hard, a fop with a too-loud voice and a too-easysmile...Itwas almost too much for her pride to bear.

That was the moment she decided to hate Sylvia von Wolff.

Within a year, Sylvia published her first book. Lorelei had devoured it with a vicioushunger—andall the ones that followed. She refused to be uninformed in her hatred.

What could she say about her work? Sylvia sailed in every wind and danced in every stream. It was drivel. And yet it enraptured her. Her tales werecharming, and they detailed every adventure Lorelei had yearned to have. Her exuberant, heartfelt sincerity was enough to win over even those most suspicious of her. It only made Lorelei’s resentment burn brighter.