by Janna Ruth
Turning to the Pest side, I shout, “I need three dryads down at the lions. Hold there.”
I no longer see the individual nymphs but the wave as a whole. It’s not perfect, just like the nymphs aren’t perfect. There are many spots that seem less dense than the rest of it. If we hit those, we can lessen the hold the nymphs have over the water. I keep moving up and down the bridge, directing spirits and seekers alike as the wave continues to build around us, frozen in mid-air. I don’t know whether the seekers know who gives them the impressions or whether they think it’s their own doing, but they’re hitting the wave exactly where they need to.
The nymphs themselves are still a big problem. Iván has weakened his own one enough to assist his teammates at the Pest side of the bridge. Meanwhile, Wulf is managing to keep the nymph at a distance. I can see the frustration grow on his face. He’s not used to his blows having so little effect. He’s got the strongest, most complete nymph in front of him, and I worry that he’ll exhaust long before the spirit will.
“Rika, quick,” Aeola alerts me to a problem on the Buda side. There, Rebeka and Zsuzsanna are fighting against the nymph that attacked Wulf and me on our day at the river. Two dryads are also involved in the battle, and yet, the nymph bears down on all of them. He’s sunk his needle-like teeth into Zsuzsanna’s thigh and is threatening to drag her down the bridge, but the seeker’s other leg is jammed in the railing. No, a dryad is holding onto her, wrapping her roots around her leg and railing to save her. I need to get them a break, or the water will wash them both down the bridge.
“Rebeka, strike where the spray hits! Aeola will show you!” Aeola speeds away from me, leaving a spray of water in her wake. The spray shows Rebeka exactly where Wulf has hit the nymph before, and only seconds later, Rebeka’s staff hits in the same space, widening the ugly hole in his forehead.
The nymph loosens his jaws, and the dryad manages to pull Zsuzsanna back onto the bridge. She lies there, disoriented and clasping her bleeding leg. Meanwhile, the two other dryads hit the nymph with their spindly fingers in the exact same spot as Rebeka did until his entire forehead cracks open, spraying water like a mouldy fountain.
I’m still grossed out by it when something hits me so fast, I can’t even scream for help before my body slams into the railing on the far side of the bridge. Pain explodes in my back, making me gasp. But there’s no air to breathe, only water. Foul water. Slimy oil fills my mouth, causing me to gag instead. Clawing at the railing, I try to get to my knees, only to have them knocked away from under me.
Then someone grabs me. At first, I think it’s Wulf because the grip around both of my arms is as firm as his, but it’s twigs that hold me, not fingers. Szirom pulls me to my feet and steadies me, helping me breathe through the pain. An instant later, Aeola is at my side, brushing my face with her warm breeze until I can think straight again.
As soon as I can, she tells me, “Wulf is in trouble.”
My head whips around to the left. For some reason, there are now two nymphs attacking him. It looks like József has abandoned the one he had engaged in a battle and joined Rebeka and their hurt teammate instead. With his back against the railing, Wulf is hard-pressed. The moment he concentrates on one, the other tries to get on his undefended side. One of the nymphs spits foul water into his eyes, and the reflex causes Wulf to jerk his head to the side. Immediately, the second one lunges forward, plunges her teeth into Wulf’s lower arm, and drags him over the railing.
“Aeola!” I watch in horror as he falls backwards into the tumultuous waves. Aeola dives after him in a flash.
The second nymph begins tearing at the steel cables until one of them snaps loose and smacks a dryad in the face, flinging her far into the water. The spirit seekers are still fighting up and down the bridge, but they’re losing the battle.
I try not to think about Wulf and take a deep breath, ready to do my part. Just before I step forward, Szirom puts a hand on my shoulder. When I look at her, she’s concentrating so hard the knots of wood in her face pulsate. One of Szirom’s long fingers separating from her hand. A knot appears in its place as the finger falls into her hand. She passes it to me. “Stick her where it hurts.”
My fingers close around the piece of living wood in my hand that’s barely long enough for a dagger. “Thank you.” Facing the nymph, I take a deep breath, then I holler with as much taunting as I can manage, “Hey, you slimy puddle.”
The nymph reacts instantly. “Who are you calling a puddle?” Water splashes over my knees, threatening to wash me away.
“Would you prefer stinky swamp face?”
Nope, she doesn’t. With a snarl, the nymph splashes herself at me. I try to sidestep her but get swept into her wave instead. She would’ve flushed me over the railing like Wulf if Szirom didn’t root me to the spot. I can hardly thank Szirom before she moves forward and entangles the nymph in long vines. The nymph expands and expands with an unearthly scream until Szirom’s vines snap in ear-splitting thunder.
“No,” I whisper, realising how badly hurt Szirom already is from her fight with the spirit seekers. Now she’s writhing on the ground and still trying to pull the nymph down with her.
Her former finger in my hand pulsates with her life force, reminding me of what I have to do. Using the opening Szirom’s sacrifice gives me, I jump onto the nymph’s back. Just before I crash through the wave, I drive the dryad wood through her head and back out of her mouth, tearing my wrist on her teeth as I fall through the water. My knees hit the ground, and I’m howling with pain as I fall on my side next to Szirom.
But it worked. The freely given dryad wood has torn the nymph open from inside, and now she is nothing more than what I already called her—a sad little puddle. All around me, I can feel the wave losing its force and the water changing direction, flowing back downriver as it’s supposed to.
“Szirom, we did it! We…” My jubilant cries are quickly stifled when I look at the dryad. The oil has seeped beneath the cracks in her bark from the earlier fight with the spirit seekers. Already, her remaining leaves are turning brittle and grey. “No, no. Szirom, we did it. We saved the trees.”
She raises her hand to my cheek, and I grasp it with mine, holding it close. “Plant me one, will you? A white poplar.” I feel something round taking shape between my skin and her wood. A seed.
“Don’t die,” I beg her. She just saved my life, saved everyone’s life. Even that of those that sought to capture her.
“We live,” Szirom whispers, her voice as brittle as her leaves. “We grow. We die, only to give new life. That’s the dryad’s way of life. Remember that.” As she turns entirely rigid, a light wind blows her leaves away. All that’s left from her life is the dryad wood in my hand and the seed in my other.
Gently, I brush her face. “I’ll plant you an entire forest, my dear friend.”
“Oh, Rika.” Suddenly, Aeola is there, wrapping herself around my body and offering me solace.
With a start, I remember why she wasn’t here in the first place. “Is Wulf…”
I haven’t even finished the sentence when I hear his soggy steps on the bridge. There’s a gaping wound on his arm and another one on his thigh, but the water has washed away the blood. He looks tired enough to drop right here and sleep through the next day and night.
His gaze drifts from me to the dead dryad, then back to me again. I hold my breath, waiting for his verdict.
“I’ll see if the others need my help,” is all he says before dragging himself past me down to the Pest end of the bridge where the water hasn’t quite calmed yet.
“He thanked me for saving him,” Aeola says, trying to cheer me up.
I don’t know what I expected from him. If Aeola saving him didn’t change his mind, a couple of dryads joining forces with him wouldn’t do it either.
My jaw is set. “As he should.” It’s the least he could do after the spirits gave their lives for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AFTER W
HAT HAPPENED at the Széchenyi Chain Bridge, it didn’t take much to convince the Budapest spirit seekers to replant the forest. Not even Wulf has argued against it, though he’s shaken his head when I demanded it and stayed at the base. Although the dryads have saved everyone’s lives, he remains stubborn. Fortunately, the others have had a change of heart, especially after the notice Iván received this morning.
“They’re defunding us,” he tells me as I dig a little hole for the white poplar seedling I’ve managed to find. “A sixty-per-cent cut to all funds because we had so much before.”
You’d think after saving Budapest from a bunch of monster nymphs, the SSA would be a bit more forgiving, but no. Wulf’s report has rendered the Budapest base practically defenceless.
“And of course, they ordered me to step down for Józsie.” There’s just a hint of bitterness in his voice. It’s clearly not the worst consequence.
His brother won’t have any of it. “You’ve got the higher NAV. You’ll always be the commander in my book.”
Iván smiles, and I’m glad that, at least, these two now seem to be on the same page. “But what are we gonna do now? My team will have to get part-time jobs so they can afford to risk their lives. How am I supposed to protect everyone?”
I carefully lower Szirom’s dryad seed into the ground before I plant the seedling on top. “There could be a way.” I look across the meadow at Rebeka, who nods to me.
“Spill, spirit girl.” After the bridge attack, Iván has adopted a new name for me. I don’t really mind as long as he doesn’t pass it on to the SSA.
“Well, you could start cultivating your relationships with the dryads.” Patting the soil around the seedling, I try not to sound too giddy. “You’d have to make amends first, but I’d say they’ve proven themselves immeasurably valuable.”
Iván and József share a look. The older brother shrugs, deferring the situation to Iván. When Iván turns back to me, it looks like he’s set his mind. “If that’s what we need to do to keep people safe, I’m all in. I just… I wouldn’t know where to start.” He takes a deep breath. “What are your plans?”
“My plans?” I get up from the ground.
“I’m assuming after the fight you and Wulf had, you’re not so keen on Berlin anymore.” He looks sheepishly at me. “Rika, you belong here. You’re one of us. And we want you here. You could help us establish this unique collaboration. You could see it come to fruition. I mean, the dryads already trust you, and you know what they need.”
It feels good to hear Iván appreciating me. When he’s done, I smile at him. “You have to learn how to listen to them. Your NAV is almost at four hundred. You just need to open your heart to them. And you’ll have to earn their trust. It’s not gonna be easy. That said, I can’t be your easy way out.” I look over to Rebeka, who is directing two of the workers. “If you need help, I’d suggest listening to your girlfriend. She knows more about spirits than you think.”
Iván follows my gaze and swallows. “So, where are you going?”
Staying in Budapest is tempting. It definitely feels more like home, and now that the spirit seekers are inclined to work with the spirits, I would love to stay and watch my vision come to life. But I’m a Traveller. Settling isn’t for me. Maybe I’ll come back one day, visit old friends, and look after Szirom’s tree, but for now, I need to move on. “There are things I have to take care of in Berlin, and then… I don’t know.” I look up at Aeola, who is drifting with the clouds. “Wherever the wind takes me.”
“Well,” Iván says, the disappointment thick in his voice. “It’s not like I can pay you anything.”
I can’t bear seeing him this defeated. While I’m still angry about what he did to the dryads, I understand that it was born from desperation. He truly cares about the people here, and it breaks his heart that he can’t defend them as he wants. I look at the white poplar seeding. It’s just a tree now, but there’s a dryad seed underneath, and though it hasn’t sprouted yet, I know she would agree with me.
I take out the dryad wood Szirom has given me so graciously and put it into Iván’s hands. “Her name was Szirom. She fought at your side, even though you hurt her. She died because of it.” The oil wouldn’t have got into her if she had been whole. “This is more powerful than any spirit seeker staff you’ll ever have because it has been given freely. I’m lending it to you until you’ve earned it.”
His fingers curl around the wood, and I can feel him shudder in reverence. “Thank you.”
“Thank Szirom.” I point to the seedling. “She’ll bloom one day. You’d better treat her right from now on.”
Iván nods, unable to speak, then he pulls me into a hug. “Viszontlátásra,” he whispers. He pats my back before stepping backwards. “I’ll take care of her.”
I leave him with his brother and go over to Rebeka. She opens her arms wide and greets me with, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him in line from now on.”
“I’m counting on you.” I hug her dearly.
More earnest, she adds, “And I’ll make sure Sebestyen does no more research with spirits without their explicit consent.”
“Thank you.” It eases my heart to know I’ve put an end to the gruesome experiments here, at least.
“You’re going back to Berlin with Wulf?” she asks, pulling a face.
“If he’ll take me.” He’s still not talking to me, though he hasn’t put up a protest either. After being such a presence from the first day I met him, he seems like a ghost now.
Rebeka looks worried. “Be careful, Rika. Wulf might be a good guy, but he has connections to the SSA that run deeper than anyone else’s. Duty will call him, and he’ll answer it.”
“I know.” It’s a risk, but there’s more in Berlin for me than Wulf.
Wulf keeps his distance on the ride back to Berlin. I thought that we could discuss what had happened, but as soon as he stows away his luggage, he’s off to the diner wagon. I spend the entire trip alone, thinking about what I’ll do in Berlin. The picture of my mum is in my hands. Maybe Miriam can help me log into some database and look for her. Or I could post pictures of her around town. I’d need a phone for starters. Maybe I could use some of the funds I received for helping with the Erlking to buy one.
As we drive through Bratislava and Prague, I try to imagine my mother walking through the city. She could be literally anywhere, and my chances of finding her are incredibly slim. But then again, I found Eszti’s home and this picture of the two of us. If nothing else, I’ll always have that.
Wulf returns about five minutes before we arrive in Berlin to retrieve his luggage. He still doesn’t look at me, though, treating me just like any other random person on the train.
Once outside, I immediately free Aeola, even though it’s in plain sight of him. I can tell from the contraction of his shoulder muscles that he notices, but thankfully, he keeps quiet. I remember Rebeka’s words about Wulf’s ties to the SSA. He’s already proven that he will report violations of the code of conduct despite all reason. Instead of improving the situation for Budapest, he’s made it worse because duty told him to. I doubt it will be much longer before duty tells him to report my NAV to the agency. When he does, I need to be long gone.
Despite treating me like I’m invisible, he doesn’t object to me returning with him to the citadel. By the time we reach the colossal grey walls, I’m low-key pissed about it. What I did in Budapest saved his life. Aeola actively saved his life. She told me how she kept him breathing while he fought off that nymph underwater. Without her, he would’ve drowned, and still, he acts like I’ve committed an unspeakable crime.
The others are in the hall when we arrive. They’ve already learnt that we’ll be returning and have waited with dinner. It’s not a big bash like the Hungarian welcome, just some crumbed zucchinis and schnitzel, but it tastes delicious after an entire day of travelling. There’s surprisingly little talk at the table, which makes me wonder whether Wulf has already sent them a report or calle
d them from the train.
“So, how did you like Budapest?” Camille asks me as we finish our dessert, a raspberry jelly.
Before I can answer her, Wulf dismisses the question, “She’s been there before.”
Camille frowns a little, clearly picking up on his vibe. For now, she decides to ignore him. “Have you?”
Despite his passive-aggressiveness, I answer cheerfully, “My mum and I lived there for a couple of years. It was amazing to be back. I missed the food, the people, the language.”
“You can speak Hungarian?” Lukas asks, sounding as if I just claimed to be the daughter of the Pope.
“Természetesen.” I grin at him. It pleases me to see him roll his eyes. Gosh, I’ve missed these guys.
Before I can answer any more questions, though, Wulf gets up, putting his hands on the table. At last, he’s looking at me. “Rika will leave us tomorrow. She will pack her bags and go.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I ask, my heart fluttering in my chest. I’ve expected something like that, but it still hits me like a splash of cold water.
His eyes narrow. “Then you leave me no choice but to report you to the SSA for engaging with spirits on a non-combat basis.”
The remarkable thing here is really that he won’t report me if I leave.
Camille puts a hand on my arm. “Wulf. I think you’re overreacting with this.” Yep, she definitely knows what happened. “Rika has a unique way with spirits, I know, but maybe that’s what we need.”
It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. “We need people who fight spirits,” he snaps at her. “Rika won’t do that. Rika wants to talk with them and play house. There’s no place for her among us. So, tomorrow, she’ll leave.”
“Then I’ll leave with her,” Leon says with a voice as calm as if he’s just announced tomorrow’s weather.
Everybody stares at him, even me. Wulf’s nostrils flare. “What?” It’s a question I would have asked more nicely, but I certainly want to know the answer to. I never had anyone step up for me. Not like that.