Lorelei tossed in her bed, its sheets akin to sticky vines trying to bind and strangle her. No, these were no vines but the burning tentacles of the dhrowghost. They slithered and wrapped around her, constraining her limbs, until she couldn’t even move a muscle. The stench of burnt flesh, mixed with the suffocating sweetness of opium and walnuts, filled her nostrils. Lorelei shook as a familiar sound reached her ears. Chains jingled in the darkness, followed by a long howl. A gray figure materialized before her – distorted and grotesque, but still recognizable. It was the binshi elder, the one who took care of Kai and Anuk.

Opening his mouth, dark smoke started coming out of its depths as he moaned:

“Murderer! It is your fault!”

Cold shivers ran down Lorelei’s spine as she flailed, trying to get herself out of the binds. But it wasn’t over yet. One, two, three more ghastly figures materialized around her as if summoned by the elder’s call. They had no faces, but even in their ghost-like appearance, their hair was brilliant white, contrasting with the surrounding murk. Despite never seeing them, it was painfully obvious who these people were. One of the maids had let it slip out a few days ago. These were three of the eight Shadows sent by Gregor to look for her. The unlucky ones. The ones who got killed by the drals while following the Red Hand’s false leads.

Lorelei opened her mouth. She wanted to apologize. To tell them how sorry she was.

No sound escaped her lips.

The four figures surrounded her; hands outstretched as if wanting to tear her to pieces. Gathering all of her remaining strength, Lorelei struggled to free herself but it was to no avail. Little by little, fatigue overcame her as she hung helplessly in her shackles and resigned to her fate.

Suddenly, the ghosts stood still and then parted, making way for a new arrival. A tall man in flowing dark robes slowly approached. His white skin, peeking between the folds of the cloth, glistened like polished marble. As he stepped closer, Lorelei could see the trail of red coming from his right hand.

The scream remained stuck in her throat.

Bending over, the man grabbed her chin with a bloody palm, forcing it up. His long dark hair brushed against her face as her senses were assaulted by the thick smell of musk and walnuts yet again. The horrid demon mask was just inches away so that she could distinguish every dent and swirl on its polished surface. Behind it, two holes of endless darkness stood in place of the eyes.

“Hello, mutt!” A hissing voice crawled in her ears. “Did you miss me? It’s time to resume our play.”

The hand grabbing her chin clenched even tighter. Salty blood filled Lorelei’s mouth, gagging and choking her cries. She thrashed as something heavy hit her body and sharp pain flared through her bones.

Coughing and gasping for air, the young woman finally sobered up. She was lying on the floor in her room, sheets wrapping around her limbs. As the pain and the salty taste in her mouth still lingered, Lorelei realized that in her feverish nightmare she had bitten her tongue.

She struggled up, tossing the crumbled, blood-stained sheets to the side. Her nightgown was sticking to her skin so wet as if she had just jumped into a pond. Lorelei took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. A shaking hand wiped her brow.

Everything was fine. It was just another nightmare. Not the first one, and definitely not the last.

Lorelei considered for a second whether to call a maid but decided against it. The poor girls needed some sleep too. It wasn’t their fault that their mistress was haunted by spirits. Instead, she went to one of the chests along the wall and pulled out a fresh gown.

Changing quickly into the dry clothes, the young woman threw a look outside of her window. There wasn’t even a single star on the ink-black sky. Far in the east, a green line stretched like a thin thread over the horizon. It was almost dawn. Lorelei felt a longing in her heart. She wished to feel the fresh morning air against her face; to bathe in the first rays of the new day as she did in Sefis. Yet, she knew better than to wander atop Ildemar’s steep roofs. The light breeze of Sefis was nothing compared to the spring gales of Norden.

In that case, there was the next best thing she could do.

With new determination, Lorelei opened the chest once again and, after some pondering, pulled out a large warm shawl. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she hesitated again. It was too early, so there would hardly be anyone around to see how indecent her attire actually was. If she was quick enough, she could go there and back before the servants noticed that the duchess had been gone, wandering around in her night-gown no less.

Her light steps led Lorelei to the door. A quick glance outside showed an empty, poorly-lit corridor and an old servant dozing off in a niche nearby. Lorelei breathed in relief. There were no signs of guards or other hurdles on her way. Closing the door behind, the young woman tiptoed past the sleeping man and, without looking back, hurried along the corridor.

Moments later, one of the deepest shadows moved a bit. A quiet voice whispered:

“Should we follow or report to the turgan?”

“She is the lady of the castle,” another low voice responded. “It is her right to wander and our duty to protect. Follow the lady, but give her enough privacy. If you spot any danger, don’t hesitate to kill.”

***

The winding corridors led Lorelei to her destination. As she stepped into the secluded courtyard, the smell of wet earth, greenery, and a pinch of sulfur tickled her nose. Whisps of mist floated around and together with the low gurgle of flowing water called upon an eerie, yet calming feeling.

Walking alongside one of the narrow paths, Lorelei ignored the nearby stone bench. Instead, she found a mossy patch at the roots of one of the threes and nestled there. She closed her eyes, resting her head on the rough bark, while her hand absentmindedly stroked the soft moss. The warm damp air reminded her of the early summers in Sefins when she went through the fields with master Levi gathering herbs. She chuckled remembering his monologues about medical plants, interrupted from time to time by enthusiastic cussing when his foot would fall through a rabbit hole. These had been sunny, carefree moments, dispersing the gray and oppressing day-to-day life in the Orten household.

Closing her eyes, Lorelei tried to recall the joy and warmth she had felt helping her teacher, and that she so much needed right now. Following him, learning from him, helping him, had become the meaning of her very existence. And practicing his craft was the only thing tethering her to life and giving meaning to her being born into this world. Her lips soundlessly repeated his teachings. Yarrow to lower fever, stop bleeding, and reduce pain; shepherd’s purse to stop bleeding; ribleaf to prevent infections. 'A ginseng-tonic a day keeps death far away,' he used to tell her with a big smirk while crushing herbs and mixing powders in a big mortar.

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If only it was that easy!

Tears trickled quietly down her cheeks. She knew the names and uses of hundreds of grasses, flowers, roots, and barks; their combinations into different salves and tinctures. But there were none that could bring back the dead.

Lorelei’s fingers dug into the moss without her even noticing, squishing the soft stems. Oh, she had prided herself on her knowledge. Thought that she can do good by treating the refugees in the camp. But in the end, what had she achieved? Her stubborn refusal to go back to the castle had resulted in a tragedy.

Wrapping her arms around her body, the young woman gave up suppressing her wails. It was her fault! It might have been William’s plan to drag out the Red Hands, but she had played her part perfectly. Ignorant. Stubborn. Overconfident. And now, four lives had been extinguished because of her.

Swallowing hard, the words Noah had said to her on that day in the vagrants’ camp came back to mind. ‘If something were to happen, your blood will be on my hands’. Now she knew what he meant. Those people’s blood was on her hands. There was no way to bring them back; to amend her mistake.

But this crushing realization was not enough. Simply remembering his words stabbed her bleeding heart even deeper. She had been so blind. She had missed the secret meaning behind his warning. He had known. He had agreed to use her. He had seen her as nothing but a useful tool. A walking bag of medicine with a bright target painted on top. A fat worm on a fishing hook. And because of that, she killed four people!

Lorelei rocked slowly back and forth as even more unwanted memories flooded her mind.

‘You urged me to bed her as soon as possible!’

There had been such disgust in his voice. But of course, what else to expect when talking about a lowly tool? He had played his part so well. All those little acts of kindness, all that warmth, it had been fake. No, rather it had been her fault for reading too much into it. After all, a master would pet and be affectionate to his favorite dog. Looking back, how could she even think of having any feelings other than gratitude towards him. A dog had to be loyal and grateful to a good master for giving it food and shelter instead of a whip, right?

Pressing her forehead against her knees, Lorelei took a couple of broken breaths. Dear Gods, how much she needed, how much she longed for a hug right now! Yet the mere thought of it called forth the feeling of his arms around her. It had felt so warm and safe there. And it all had been a lie. She had been a foolish, gullible, irredeemable idiot for ever believing any of it. A servant, a dog, a tool, she should have known her place better.

“Merhek!”

The word slipped from her tongue before Lorelei could stop herself. She had no idea what it meant. She only knew that it didn’t leave master Levi’s mouth the day he had almost broken his ankle in a traitorous rabbit hole. The pain, the shame, the sheer absurdity of the situation had all coagulated in that one word.

Lorelei lifted her hand to brush her eyes and noticed that the bandages around her still healing fingers had been covered in soil and moos goo.

“Merhek!”

She rubbed her cheeks, smearing the soil and tears all over her face.

“Merhek! Merhek! Merhek!”

“Oh, my! How rude!”

A soft voice came suddenly from her left.

Lorelei jumped, throwing a frantic look over her shoulder. Unbeknownst to her, a person had appeared next to the tree with a small lantern in hand.

“Now then, little bird,” the unknown woman leaned down and a big smile stretched on her dark face, “what harsh winds have brought you to my garden?”

***

“Idiot!”

Swish! Thud!

“Unbearable, impossible coward!”

Swish, swish! Thud!

Noah’s sword hit the training pell with such force that it almost cut it in half.

In the flickering light of the torches, the lone figure on the training grounds swinging a red-patterned blade looked menacing. But that’s exactly how Noah was feeling right now – furious. And the worst part was that he had no one else to blame but himself.

With a low cry, the man slashed again at the training post.

He had so much on his head! He had to tackle grumpy nobles, unhappy binshi, darn monsters from beyond the grave! He had to review taxes, broker new treaties with the whale-hunters, look out for spies and assassins trying to make his cheery everyday life even more colorful; had to haggle trading negotiations with overseas merchants, prepare the castle for the annual Council meeting, write reports to the Emperor, review the budget for bridge and road construction, root out a maniacal cult that planned to turn his lands into a bloody graveyard. But the only thing on his mind right now was that one woman who refused to talk or even meet him for the past week!

Noah huffed and leaned on his sword. His right shoulder still hurt a bit from the time that crazed horse had thrown him and Lorelei down. Yet, what hurt more even without any wounds right now was that stupid heart of his.

The man growled and wiped the streaming sweat from his brow. The sword started flashing again, continuing its deadly dance.

Oh, he knew very well what he was feeling. Guilt! He had acted like an uptight idiot! Like the stoic noble lord! And he had messed up gloriously.

‘You are so ignorant, little brother! You are like a flying arrow – never looking left or right, only at your target. But remember, an arrow can reach its destination only if the winds allow it. Read the wind, or you will be swiped away by it.’

Remembering Yanosh’s words brought a frown to Noah’s face. He had never understood the deep philosophical insights of his friend. That is, until a certain whirlwind had entered his life some two months ago. She made him feel angry, afraid, desperate, and more guilty than ever. Yet, seeing her shy smile, the sparkle in her eyes when learning something new or speaking about her teacher, her determined frown when she took care of someone’s ailments, all this had made him feel… warmth. To him, she had been a burden, an intrigue, a benefactor, a friend, a comrade in arms. And what had he done? He had failed to protect her. Betrayed her. It did not matter that it was William’s brilliant plan. Noah had to admit deep down that, had it been any other person but Lorelei, he would have been perfectly fine with it.

His blood ran cold from the realization. But he was the duke of Norden. He had a duty to protect his people. The wellbeing of the many at the price of a few lives. Was what he and William did really that wrong? Wasn’t it the logical course of action?

‘Like an arrow never looking left or right.’

But he had looked. And what he had seen were two tear-filled eyes. A frail woman that stood there like a fragile frozen flower, ready to break into dust at a single touch, yet stubbornly enduring.

‘A tool should know it’s worth’.

Red Dawn’s hilt slipped from his sweaty palm and fell on the ground with a muffled thud. Noah cursed and rubbed his blistered hands as his jaw clenched.

He had tried to apologize many times these past couple of days while knowing very well that an apology would do little good in righting the situation. Still, it could have been a start. He wanted to make amends. Tell her that he did not view her as a tool. That she was… important to him. But every time he had tried to visit her, one of her maids sent him away. The lady was sleeping. The lady was not feeling well. The physician was treating the lady’s hands. And every time, instead of barging in, he had walked away with the excuse that it was courtesy to respect Lorelei’s privacy.

Hypocritical coward!

Deep in his heart, Noah knew that he had been simply afraid. Terrified to meet these two eyes filled with pain and contempt. Scared of what else she might say to him. And even more afraid of what he might do.

With a heavy sigh, Noah lifted up the sword. The flames of the torches danced over the red blade. At the man’s beckon, an old servant trotted to him.

“Clean and sharpen it.” Noah put the sword in his hands. “And don’t forget to oil it. It was a bit hard to draw.”

“As you wish, my lord. Anything else? Should I order for your breakfast?”

“No.” Noah threw a glance to the nearby shadows as the man rushed away. He made a circular motion with his right arm and a drawn hiss escaped his lips. He might have overexerted himself this time. “I will be in the baths. Make sure no one disturbs me.”

“Yes, my lord,” replied the Shadow. “Should I call the physician or elder Marishka?”

“No. I just need a bit of peace and quiet.”

Yes, above all else, he longed for peace of mind. If only the damn world would give him some, be it for a moment. Especially today.