by Janna Ruth
“What happens to those that don’t believe?” I can’t imagine ever swallowing that bullshit, even if I was exposed to it for three years.
Rebeka mindlessly swirls her pálinka. “They disappear,” she says at last. When she looks at me, her eyes are full of tears. “I had a friend like that. We roomed together, and at night, we’d discuss our lectures. She kept saying how the SSA was wrong, pointing out all the inconsistencies. She was very smart, emotionally as well as intellectually. Then, one day, we got separated. I got another roommate, one I’m pretty sure was given to me so I’d take on her views, which were as anti-spirit as they get.”
“And your friend?”
“She continued her studies, and then she graduated ahead of class.” Rebeka smirks in a decisively ugly way. “But you can’t find her in the database. She never got stationed anywhere. She’s not working for the research facilities either. I checked. She completely disappeared.”
The hot soup in my stomach has turned into ice water. My eyes flicker to the door. It’s past midnight. If I run now, I could hide. If there’s one thing I know about more than spirits, it’s people disappearing. Homeless people disappear all the time, until they reappear face down in the Spree. And let’s not even think about my mum.
“You’re safe here,” Rebeka says, grabbing my hand. “Nobody would suspect me helping you, right? I’m Iván’s right woman. His girlfriend. A good and proper spirit seeker.”
“Why?” Even for cover, I’d never sink that low. “Do you sell spirits to avoid suffering the same fate as your friend?”
She withdraws her hand with a sigh. “As I said, you get bombarded with anti-spirit propaganda until you believe it. We were separated during our second year. Shortly after, I got together with Iván. Like my new roommate, he had completely swallowed their beliefs, priding himself in the future that awaited him. I mean, his mother was a spirit seeker, so there’s that. I wish I could tell you that I held onto my beliefs, but they faded before I even knew what was happening. By the time I graduated, I thought I was doing the right thing. Saving the world from spirits.”
Just as Wulf does. And Lukas, and every other spirit seeker I know.
“He knew about my connection to Sebestyen,” Rebeka continues. “I introduced them to each other. It was Iván’s idea to sell off the occasional spirit. He hoped it would help us defend the city when the SSA wouldn’t step up their game.”
Annoyingly, I get where Iván’s coming from. While he has absolutely no regard for spirit lives, he cares for this city, for his people. In the end, he’s much more like Wulf than he’d be able to stand.
“Sebestyen was all for it, delighting in the chance to get his hands on some actual spirits. I didn’t feel comfortable at first, but Iván convinced me that it was necessary. We had to do everything in our power to stop the spirits.”
“So, what made you change your mind?”
“That first night I saw you, I heard you talk to the dryads. It reminded me of my friend. But then you said you were with Wulf Bachmann, and I know better than to confide my doubts in one of his seekers. I didn’t know what to make of you until your breakdown over the dryads. That’s when I knew you were just like her. And still, I was wary. Could you really be so naïve as to hang out with the SSA’s poster child or what was going on?”
My cheeks are burning, and I quickly down some of that pálinka. It was naïve of me to believe I could change him.
“And then you gave this speech to Wulf today. You reminded me of everything I used to believe in. Everything I knew!” Once again, Rebeka grabs my hands, her eyes burning with passion. “I believe you. I believe that there is a better way. Because there has been. It’s in the research. There have been people who revered spirits.”
I wouldn’t call my relationship with spirits reverence, but it’s comforting to know that, contrary to Wulf’s beliefs, I’m not the first, much less the only one who’s ever seen spirits for what they are. People know. The SSA knows. They’ve just decided to keep it a secret.
Well, I’m ready to expose them. I won’t disappear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I FEEL LIKE I barely slept at all when Rebeka shakes me awake again. Her eyes are widened with fear. “We have a problem,” she says when I moan in response.
My mind instantly jumps to our previous conversation. “Are they coming for me?” In my dream, Wulf and his entire team hunted me all through Berlin.
Rebeka shakes her head. “No. It’s worse. I mean, maybe not for you, but for Budapest. I just had a call from Iván. The nymphs are taking down the bridges.”
I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“There’s an immense wave coming in from the South, and it’s building up. It swept under the Rákóczi Bridge, washed over Petőfi and hit Liberty so hard it took down some of the crossing cars. Right now, it’s on its way to Elisabeth Bridge.” Rebeka is shivering, and so am I. If you know anything about Budapest or the Danube, you’d know how wrong this wave is. It’s not just some freak flash tide from the melting snow; it’s a wave that’s going upriver, against the current, the work of something disturbingly unnatural.
The polluted nymphs.
“So, what’s going to happen?” I ask. “Do we need to evacuate?” I’m already getting dressed.
Rebeka rocks back on her heels. “They’re evacuating the houses closest to the river. This one’s not in the zone right now, but if this wave continues to build up, it will rival the destruction of World War Two. To stop it, the spirit seekers will meet it head-on on the Széchenyi Chain Bridge.”
“What?” This is ridiculous. Fighting an enormous wave of dirty, spoilt water? “They can’t possibly hope to defeat it.” Then I remember Wulf is with them. The man fought a volcanic eruption; why not the Danube?
Rebeka looks like she’s going to burst into tears. “I know! We’ll have to try, though.”
“You’re going?” I can see how much this is frightening her, and after everything she told me about the SSA last night, I thought things had changed.
“This is my city. If we don’t stop the wave, it’ll destroy the parliament. It doesn’t matter whether or not the SSA sucks, this about our people. But maybe… Maybe you could do something? Talk to them.”
The hope in her voice tortures me. What did I do to inspire that in her? And how can I possibly disappoint her now?
You can’t talk down a flood, I hear Wulf bellowing in my head. Part of me wants to prove him wrong, but there’s a bigger, wiser part that knows it’s in vain. These aren’t ordinary spirits. They aren’t even angry spirits, not like the Erlking. They are so destroyed internally they only know destruction now. “These spirits are different. I’m terribly sorry, but they don’t listen to me.”
Rebeka closes her eyes for a moment, breathing flatly. “Then run. Run as far as you can and stay away from the SSA.” Then she grabs her staff and hugs her cousin. Tears are streaming down both their faces. A few hushed well-wishes, and Rebeka is out of the door.
Her cousin looks at me, clearly struggling to breathe. “I don’t claim to understand why you’re not going with her, but you can stay until tomorrow morning… or longer if needed.”
Yeah, I’m not going to impose on this poor woman who might lose her cousin tonight any longer than absolutely have to. In fact, I need to leave right away. “Thanks for everything, but I have to go.”
I might not be able to stop a tidal wave, but there’s something I can do.
By the time I come down the stairs, Rebeka is already gone. It must be four or five in the morning. The sky is still dark, and the streets are mostly empty. The closer I get to the river, though, the more activity buzzes around me. People are leaving their homes, only a few bundles in their hands. Children are crying in their parents’ arms. The police are instructing people to get up into the hills.
The flashing lights of the police cars are melding with those of my memories. The cries of the strangers around me becom
e the cries of the people I loved. When somebody grabs my shoulder, I almost hit the guy in the face. It takes every fibre of my being to not give in to the panic attack building in my chest. This guy might be a policeman, but he’s not the one that put me into his car then arrested the rest of my friends and family.
“You can’t go to the Danube. You need to evacuate.” It takes a moment for me to realise he’s just trying to help.
Fortunately, my mouth works quicker than my mind. “SSA. I’m with the SSA.”
He lets go of me, studying me with curiosity. “Right. Well, in that case, you might want to head to Széchenyi. I heard that’s where they’re making a stand.” Then he salutes me. “Thank you for your service. Good luck!”
Managing not to roll my eyes at him, I slip past the barrier the police have built and head down Margaret Bridge. I’m not stupid. I know that this isn’t the Széchenyi Chain Bridge, but I’m not here to fight. There’s no staff for me, none that I would willingly want to touch, and I don’t see any point in getting in the way of the spirit seekers.
Instead, I’m here to evacuate the dryads. If an upriver wave can sweep away the bridges of Budapest, it will completely devastate Margaret Island.
Aeola joins me as I run across the empty bridge. “Are we going to fight?” she asks me.
Between huffs, I explain my plan to her. “We need to warn them, at least.” The dryads are still weak. Most of them won’t have found a tree to bond with yet, and I’m not sure if any tree will survive the water.
“What about the spirit seekers?” Aeola asks. “What about Wulf?”
“Wulf made his choice,” I say pointedly. “This is what he signed up for. He lives for these catastrophes.” And after tonight, he might be dead. Despite all of our differences, I find I still care. Everything I said is the truth. He’s a spirit seeker through and through, and for him, that means risking his own life to save thousands of others. And though infuriates me more than anyone ever did, I still admire him for that.
I shake off the undeserved adoration. “He could save so many more if he wasn’t at war with the spirits.” I have to say it out loud to get over my doubts.
Aeola sighs a little. “He’s like my father. The anger has made him blind to the world.”
“And righteous and overbearing and… just an all-around idiot.” Will I ever get over him? Now don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not in love with the guy. I have just got to know him too well to simply put him in the people-to-avoid drawer he belongs in.
We arrive at the park, and I instantly pick up the panicked whispers between the trees. There are so many of them I can’t understand more than a few words. “… flee…” “… what do we do?” “… don’t want to die.”
“Quiet!” I shout, and the leaves around me fall silent.
I turn around myself, trying to face all of them, though most of them are still hidden in the trees. “Panic won’t help us.”
“Us?” an old voice asks.
“Yes, us. We can only survive this if we work together.” My voice is surprisingly calm although I haven’t planned any of this speech. “The spirit seekers are making a last stand on Széchenyi Chain Bridge. They won’t succeed, but they’ll buy us time. While they fight off the nymphs, we can leave the island.”
Naturally, there’s protest. “Without our trees? We can’t leave the trees behind.”
“I understand that.” Great, now my voice is on the verge of breaking. “Leaving behind a part of you hurts.” In my mind, I can see myself hugging Eszti goodbye, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see her. “But you will survive. You will grow new roots.” The citadel of Spandau somehow sneaks into my mind. “And they’ll grow stronger, and you’ll grow stronger. But if you stay here, you’ll drown.”
The protest is softer now, more defeated. “But what about our trees?” The trees are more than just their home. They’re a part of them. They’re their parent and their child. Some of the dryads cared for these trees since they were saplings.
A dryad steps out in front of me. She doesn’t have a tree, not anymore. “We cannot run away, Rika,” Szirom says.
But I want them to. I want them to be safe. There are more parks in Budapest, up on the hills of Buda, further inland in Pest. “I don’t want you to die.” Tears are streaming down my face.
“Then we must fight.” Szirom nods. She turns around to face the rest of them. “These nymphs don’t belong here. They have been introduced. Introduced to bring horror and death to everything alive. We are dryads. We live. We grow. We die, only to give new life. Today, the spirit seekers and we have a common enemy. Let us fight. Not for them, but for us and everything that lives.”
“Elisabeth Bridge is down.” That’s the call I pick up as we move along the shoreline. I swallow at the thought of how powerful this nymph-forced wave is to tear down a fortified bridge with giant white gates.
Luckily, none of the police officers has a high NAV, or they’d be freaking out about the two dozen of dryads following me toward the Széchenyi Chain Bridge. Things will change when we get to the bridge, but I’m hoping that the spirit seekers will be too occupied to worry about the dryads making a stand next to them. And if we somehow survive this and Iván takes down the rest of the trees, I will personally skewer him with his staff.
When I step onto the bridge, Aeola and Szirom at my side, I can see the wave. A giant bulge of water moves towards us in a slow creep-like fashion, more like a dune shifting with the wind than water flowing. In the early morning light, it looks grey instead of blue. Behind it, I can see Elisabeth Bridge broken in two. The white gates have fallen inward, still precariously perched on steel ropes. Water flows into the city from the sides of the wave. It sweeps away cars and streetlamps, crashing them into each other or the nearby buildings.
The lions of Széchenyi welcome me with their stone eyes. They’ve guarded this bridge for so long, but there’s nothing they can do tonight.
The spirit seekers are spread across the bridge, each of them having ample space around them. The first one, Zsuzsanna, notices me, but she doesn’t see the dryads. From her frown, I can tell that she knows something is up. I ignore her as I do Rebeka’s widening eyes. József is the next, but he’s so focused, eyes fixed on the approaching wave, his fingers clenching around the staff, that he doesn’t even hear me passing behind him.
Like the spirit seekers, the dryads spread out along the bridge. I slip next to Wulf, who has naturally taken the centre spot where the brunt of the wave will hit.
“Try not to kill our allies if you can,” I say softly as I take my place next to him.
He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Rika?” Then he looks behind him and pales. “What have you done?”
“Surprisingly, nothing. They wanted to help.” I skip the part where the dryads couldn’t care less about the spirit seekers and are here because they want to protect their trees and whatever they include in ‘all that lives’. “Where is your staff?”
The one in his hands is a standard-issue staff. Wulf doesn’t answer me, so I look around myself and find it in Iván’s hands. “You’ve got a serious hero complex,” I tell Wulf. Of course, he’d give away his powerful ancient staff and prove he can still kick ass with one that doesn’t even come close to the original.
“Says the woman that turns up empty-handed to a battle,” he mutters, still not looking at me.
Noting the slight undertone of concern, I smile. “I’m not empty-handed. I’ve got Aeola.”
For a moment, Wulf doesn’t say anything. His eyes are fixed on the wave that’s now only one or two hundred metres away. When he speaks again, his voice sounds pained. “Rika, leave, please.”
“It’s too late for that,” I whisper.
I’m right. The wave is speeding up. It’s growing in size, as high as the bridge, then higher, much higher. It’s not just water that’s coming at us, but a wave of pure hate. It might very likely tear us apart.
“There’s five of them,”
I say, noticing the bloated shapes of the nymphs.
Aeola wraps her lower body around my hand, and I squeeze her tight. There’s no going back now.
For a moment, it looks like the water is just going to move over our heads, curling into itself like a wave you could surf. Then it crashes down on us, grasping at the stone gates and tearing at the steel ropes.
Wulf raises his staff, but it’s the dryads that launch themselves forward, cutting through the water and slicing it to ribbons.
I scream at the top of my lungs as I watch a dryad drop into the river, only to be swept away from us. The Danube will take him down its course, further away from his roots than he’s ever been.
A nymph lunges at us, and Wulf steps forward to meet her, spinning his staff around to hit her left and right. Though each hit is placed near perfectly, the staff barely cuts into the water-filled form. I can see Iván further down, fighting on the slippery railing of all places, smacking Wulf’s staff into another nymph.
Water sweeps at us from all directions. Instead of flowing on, it keeps enveloping us, greedily reaching for our lives. Within seconds, I’m drenched from head to toe. Aeola makes sure I’ve always got enough air, but apart from that, there’s not much I can do other than to watch seekers and dryads go down under the onslaught.
The smell of the foul nymphs is overbearing. Their oily touch makes me want to scream, while the hate makes me want to curl up and cry. But I can’t do that. Everyone’s fighting for their survival, and I have to do my part. One look at Aeola, and she knows what to do.
“József, hit the water where it shimmers black, four steps to your right.” Aeola’s wind carries my words, and the spirit seeker follows them, driving his staff into the oily gleam I know is there. The pressure of the water lessens a little around him.