Natural Enemies (Spirit Seekers Book 2)

by Janna Ruth

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” Wulf says, squinting his eyes.

  Camille stands up next to me now. “This might be a good idea. This way, you can also see what Rika can do.”

  Wulf crosses his arms, looking back and forth between Camille and me. “I know what she can do.”

  “You know her NAV and what I’ve told you, but you haven’t seen it.” She steps forward. “Believe me, Wulf, you need to see it.”

  I’m biting my lip, waiting for his decision. I don’t have the funds to go to Budapest myself. I never even thought about it until now. It’s like I’ve forgotten it exists. But Wulf has opened a door I thought has been closed forever, and I’m eager to go through it now to find what’s on the other side.

  He looks at me, trying to find a clue as to why I suddenly changed my mind. When he sighs, I know I’ve won this battle. “Sure, why not? You might be able to see something I don’t.”

  I don’t know what scares him more: the thought of travelling to Budapest with me by his side or the enormous smile that’s spreading on my face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WULF IS GETTING us tickets for the train. We’ll be spending close to twelve hours next to each other, so that’s gonna be fun. There’s one more thing to take care of before we leave early in the morning: Aeola.

  I can’t leave her here with all that is going on in the spirit world. She wouldn’t want to stay here without me, either. Taking her with me while Wulf is watching every step of mine is madness. Yet, that’s exactly what I want to do.

  It’s in the wee hours of the morning, long before anyone could possibly be awake, when I make my way into the little nook at the back of the citadel. “Aeola?”

  She comes at me from behind, playing with my hair and settling around my shoulders like a warm embrace. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

  Giddily, I turn around to her. “We’re going to Budapest.”

  “Budapest?” Confused, she takes back to the air. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s a city far to the East, the capital of Hungary, and it’s beautiful.” I’ve got only the best memories of Budapest. “Wulf got a call-out from the spirit seekers there, and I’m going with him.”

  Aeola frowns. “Why? He made you cry.”

  “You saw that?” I ask, momentarily sobered by the events of last night.

  “The wind carried your tears,” she explains, “and his words.”

  Sighing, I lean against the wall. “Yeah, well… it’s not really about him. I need to go to Budapest. She… my mum might be there.” It’s a small chance, a tiny chance, but it’s bigger than any I’ve had in the last eight years.

  Fortunately, Aeola understands instantly. “Then you must go.” A cloud of sadness surrounds her, nevertheless.

  “And you must come with me,” I declare, pushing myself off the wall again. “I promised to take you travelling, and I won’t go without you.”

  Aeola breathes gratitude into my face. “But how?”

  That is the critical part. “I thought about it. Luckily, we’re going by train, so following us should be possible.” I really hope it is because I don’t like the other option.

  “Trains aren’t as fast as aeroplanes, but most of them are faster than the wind,” Aeola explains. “Have you checked the weather report? Will there be a wind blowing in your direction?”

  The relationship between spirits and their elements is weirdly co-dependent. Many sylphs can cook up a magnificent storm, but their power is limited to short, local bursts. I guess you can’t truly tame the wind or stop the plants from growing. Spirits have to go with the flow. Sylphs more than any other.

  Which is why I’ve come up with Plan B.

  “There’s another way.” As I pull the tube out from under my jacket, Aeola shirks away from me in fear. It hurts to see her so mistrustful, but I get it. I’d react the same if someone offered to lock me in a cold, dark space. “Don’t freak out. Just listen to me.”

  Aeola wavers in the air. “Speak.” The word is full of tension, like the calm before the storm.

  “I won’t activate the trap. I’m not gonna suck you in, nor will I ship you off to Rome or something like that. You know that.” If the battle against her father has shown us anything, we trust each other. “This tube will protect you from Wulf. I can hide you in my backpack, and I’ll let you out as soon as we arrived in Budapest. I promise.”

  She probes the air around me, tasting it until she’s satisfied. At long last, Aeola nods. “I trust you.”

  “I know.”

  It still breaks my heart watching her sneak into the tube. I wish I could leave it uncovered, but Wulf will notice where he won’t question the tube. “I’ll see you tonight,” I whisper inside of it, then swallow as I close the trap.

  “Do you want to sit at the window?” Like a true gentleman, Wulf is offering me my seat first. His tickets have got us into first class, which is a little more spacious than the other seats on the train.

  “If you don’t mind?” I still can’t believe I’m actually going with him. I mean, not that it matters that I’m going with him, but that I’m going. I’m leaving Berlin behind, even if it’s just for a little while.

  He shakes his head and loads our staffs and the rest of his luggage in the overhead compartment. “Not at all. I’m probably gonna sleep, anyway.”

  How he can pass on seeing the world so easily, I don’t know, but I slip gladly into my seat. I only have my backpack, though Camille insisted on packing it for me, making me promise to buy a proper suitcase and more clothes in Budapest. For a moment, I press it close to my chest, feeling the spirit trap in there, then I put it under my seat.

  Wulf takes his seat next to me. His elbow touches mine by accident, and we both take our arms off the armrest. I try to mask the awkwardness by taking off my jacket and hanging it on the little hook near the window, but Wulf chuckles.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replies, sobering up instantly. “It’s gonna be a long day.” He stretches out next to me, reclining his seat.

  “Sorry,” I mutter and look out of the window, watching the people on the platform saying their goodbyes.

  In the reflection, I can see Wulf studying me. Turning around, I confront him about it. “What are you doing?”

  Caught red-handed, the tips of his ears flush with blood. It’s surprisingly cute, I have to admit. He clears his throat. “Excuse me. I’ve just never seen scars like that. They’re from your battle with the Erlking, right?”

  I look at the dendritic lines of the scars. “Yeah.” To me, they’re a sign of my victory. I’ve beaten the odds, beaten the deadly promise he made me. “I survived.”

  He gets caught in my eyes, his mouth slightly ajar. “So you did.”

  I’m the first to break off our eye contact and turn back to the platform. The train is getting into motion, creeping out of the station. People are waving outside, but the only face I see is Wulf’s mirrored one in the windowpane.

  Oh, yes, this is going to be a long day.

  “So, why Budapest?” Wulf asks me after our tickets have been stamped off about an hour later. We’ve already left Berlin far behind.

  So far, I’ve spent most of the time watching the countryside swish by. Everywhere the trees are turning green, welcoming spring into their hearts. I turn away from the window to face him. “It’s a beautiful city.”

  He has a book on his table, a crime novel from what I can see, and a spectacle case, which surprises me. Judging by the look of the pages, it’s not the first time he’s read it. “I’ve never been there.”

  I know he’s fishing for information, but I smile at him without giving him the pleasure. “You’ll love it.”

  Snorting, Wulf leans back into the chair. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

  To be honest, I feel a little bad about it. I guess part of me is still afraid he’ll put me on the train back at the next stop, despite the fact he took me along on the most feeble justifica
tion. “Speaking of secrets, you should probably know that Camille told me about your parents.”

  A muscle on his cheek twitches, nothing more. After a while, he says, “It’s not a secret.”

  “It’s not common knowledge either.” It’s only fair that he’s aware that I know.

  “I assume it hasn’t changed your stance on spirits?” Oh, boy, here we go.

  Sadly, I’m not one to back down from a confrontation. “It hasn’t, no.”

  Wulf leans forward, finally looking at me. “I don’t get it. The news is full of catastrophic weather phenomena. In Budapest, they had more accidental drownings last week than in a decade. In a decade. So, what if there are one or two spirits that aren’t dead set on destroying us? The rest of them are.”

  His arguments are good, don’t get me wrong, but they pain me more than they change my mind. I put my hand on his, turning my body towards him. “Because it matters. Look,” I say while running my fingers over his thumb until I catch myself in the act. Hastily, I remove my hand. “It’s the same kind of nonsense you see amongst people. A few refugees commit a crime. Now, they’re all violent. Let’s get rid of them. All Travellers are thieves and good-for-nothing. We don’t want them here. Or even worse…” I’m not going there. Wulf is clever enough to know what happens when one group is deemed undesirable to live. He is German, after all.

  “Spirits aren’t people,” Wulf says and turns away from me.

  Obviously, I won’t get him by showing him the harmfulness of othering, so instead, I ask a simpler question, “How?”

  His eyebrows draw closer, as I’ve seen him do so often in the short time we've known each other. “How are spirits not people? That’s like asking why dogs aren’t people.”

  “So, they’re animals?” I ask, not letting him get out of this that easily.

  Wulf shakes his head as if he said something ridiculous. “No, spirits are spirits. They’re intelligent beings that use their immense powers to damage us, to destroy what we build, to kill.”

  “That doesn’t really make them sound much different from people.” Of course, spirits are nothing like humans, but they aren’t exactly soulless monsters, either.

  “No, no. you’re twisting it around. People are people, and spirits are spirits.” He’s grown quite agitated now, using his hands to gesticulate. “You can’t even begin to compare them. We’re not elemental beings. They have no flesh, no bone, no organs. As far as I know, they don’t even die.”

  For someone who has been so well-trained in spirits, he really knows little. “They go to sleep,” I tell him softly. “When they’re really old, they often go to sleep.”

  “Like a volcano?” Wulf asks, interested despite his contrary opinions.

  Now that he mentions it, I know it to be true. “Exactly. Some wake up again, but many volcanoes sleep forever once their time of activity has passed. The same goes for gnomes that become one with the stone, or dryads that are so old, they’ve grown an entire forest on their back.”

  He leans into his seat once again. “Well, I wish they’d all go to sleep for a very long time.”

  I could keep arguing, but his words carry such profound tiredness with them I can’t bring myself to do it. “What happened in Naples?” He told us the mission details, but not what it did to him.

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” Wulf doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even tense up, but it says everything he can’t. Sure, sylphs killed his parents, and he’s likely seen a lot of heart-breaking scenes on the job, but this pain isn’t as old as the others. It hadn’t had time to scab over yet.

  The train takes us along the Elbe River into Czechia. Just seeing the Giant Mountains rising in the distance makes me tear up. I’ve travelled them with my mother. All those sleepy villages, the ravines, and the legends have melded together into a fairy-tale-like dream. One day, I promise myself, Aeola and I will hike those mountains again. We’ll go there and everywhere else I’ve been with my mother and all the places we never saw.

  Arriving in Prague sets off the next wave of nostalgia. So much time has passed since I’ve last been here, yet the city still looks the same. Sure, there are new buildings, but the sea of red roofs is exactly as I remember.

  We have a twenty-minute stop here, and when I step out to move my legs, I’m almost tempted to stay here. To ease back into this city and see what’s left of me in there. I have to tell myself that Budapest is bigger. What I’m feeling here will be tenfold there.

  Wulf keeps true to his word and sleeps through most of the trip if he isn’t reading his novel. He cares neither for the boundless nature around us nor the cities reeking of history. I guess, as a spirit seeker, he has seen his fair share of the world. Still, it makes me sad that there’s no wonder left for him to see.

  By the time we leave Bratislava behind us, my whole body is on edge. It’s already afternoon. Our next stop will be our last. You can’t actually smell anything beyond the stale air in the compartment, but I feel like I can taste Hungary when we cross the border. That taste of a glass of red wine on a summer night, of sweet and hot paprika, of steam from a thousand thermal baths across the country.

  The sky is already darkening when Wulf wakes up to check his watch. “We should be there in half an hour. I better let the Vargas know we’re about to arrive.”

  “The Vargas?” I ask, only now thinking of the team of spirit seekers we’ll meet in Budapest.

  Wulf nods. “József and Iván Varga. Józsie was in my class at the SSA while his brother started a year after we graduated. They lead this team. I mean, Iván is the commander, Józsie, his deputy.”

  “I see.” I don’t tell him, but I really hope the Varga brothers are more like Camille and less than Robert, or even Wulf, in regard to spirits.

  It doesn’t really matter for now, because soon, the train enters Budapest from the north. Spring has come early here, and the trees are already in bloom. Through the windows, I can see Pest with its many-storied houses from different historical eras, all fitting into each other. When there’s a gap between the buildings, you can see the hills of Buda on the other side of the Danube River and the great bridges.

  It’s been over fifteen years since I’ve last been here, yet there are some small parts I recognise: a particular house here, a coffee shop there, the greens of City Park, which was once the festival grounds for the 1000-year-celebrations in 1896. And then the train rolls into the station and comes to a stop.

  Wulf gets up to take down his luggage and our staffs. He’s in no hurry to leave the train, which is just as well because my stomach has folded in on itself, turning my insides to mush. I’m simultaneously excited and scared. Excited that I’m back and scared that it might not be the city I remember.

  With some help from Wulf, I hoist myself out of the seat and follow him outside. Unsure where to go next, he looks around at the masses of people. As they’re dispersing, his face lights up.

  The Varga brothers could be mistaken for twins if one of them hadn’t bleached his dark hair to an elfish white-blond. Otherwise, they both have the same boyish, slender faces with full lips, high cheekbones, and prominent, dark eyebrows. It’s the one with the natural-coloured, slightly curled hair, who comes forward with a big smile and embraces Wulf. So, that must be József then.

  Wulf carries a similar smile as the two of them clap each other’s backs. “Józsie! Long time, no see. How are you?”

  “Good, good,” his friend answers with only the faintest accent. “Did you have a pleasant trip?”

  “It was okay, a bit long,” Wulf replies, then leans forward to shake the blonde brother’s hand. “You must be Iván. Nice to meet you.”

  The younger of the two brothers clasps Wulf’s hand and smiles at him. “Welcome to Budapest! It’s an honour to host the great Wulf Bachmann.” Then his eyes flick towards me. “And I see you brought your girlfriend along for the ride.” His accent is a bit stronger than that of his brother.

  “She’s not…”


  Before Wulf can introduce me, I step forward and do so myself. “Jó estét kívánok! Én Rika vagyok. Örülök, hogy végre találkozunk!”

  Iván’s dark blue eyes light up in delight. He takes my hand in his and pretends to blow it a kiss. “Kezét csókolom!” He looks at Wulf, laughing. “You never told us you got a Hungarian girl in your team now.”

  Wulf is in full shock mode. I can see from his completely frozen face he didn’t know that about me. It’s good to know I’ve still got one or two surprises up my sleeves.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “MY MUM IS from a small Hungarian town,” I explain to Iván as we make our way through the city. “Valkó, I think? It’s east of here.”

  He racks his brain for a moment, then nods. “I think I’ve driven through it once or twice. How cool is that? Well, welcome home then.”

  “Thank you.” I’ve definitely dropped onto the giddy side of excitement now, grinning wildly at everything.

  It’s already dark in Budapest, which means all around the Danube, the city shines in an orange glow. The brothers are taking us to a restaurant by the river, which is well visited at this time of day. They must have reserved a table, because the view we get is marvellous. I can see Margaret Bridge, which connects the two parts of the city and the small island in between. Further to the South, the lights of the famous Széchenyi Chain Bridge with its lions sparkle in the night. On the other side of the river, the majestic Castle Hill rises, the Buda Castle illuminated by lights.

  Iván holds the chair for me, and I thank him again as I sit down. “It’s so great to be back.”

  “So, that’s the big secret; you’re Hungarian?” Despite the beauty around him, Wulf is wearing a frown.