Runebinder

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Runebinder Page 13

by Alex R. Kahler


  Devon and Dreya paused by the side of an old SUV. It didn’t stand out from any of the other vehicles they’d passed, save for the fact that all its windows were intact.

  The twins exchanged another look. Devon shrugged.

  “Devon thinks... He thinks he can drive this,” Dreya said.

  Fire and Water flickered in Devon’s body as he peered intently through the windows, his hands tracing the glass like a kid ogling a candy-store window.

  “Drive it?” Jarrett said. “Good luck getting it to start.”

  Tenn remembered the cold mornings of his childhood and his mother’s frantic attempts to get the car running so she could get him to school on time. Memory made his heart clench, but he stayed focused on the present. The last time this SUV had been used was probably three years ago. Minimum.

  “The tank is full,” Dreya said. “The battery is dead, but Devon can change that. He is good with cars. They were his fascination as a child.”

  Jarrett raised an eyebrow. If Devon was paying them any attention, he didn’t show it.

  “Tenn?” Dreya said. “The doors, if you please.”

  “Um, okay.” He opened to Earth and pushed his senses through the various mechanisms, finally finding the locks on each of the doors. He twisted the metal and rendered the locks obsolete. Crude, but it got the job done.

  “Everyone in,” Dreya said. She walked around to the passenger’s side and got in without waiting for an answer.

  “Beats walking,” Jarrett said with a shrug. He opened the door for Tenn and then slid in, throwing their gear in the trunk.

  “Have you done this before?” Jarrett asked when they were inside.

  Devon nodded. “Once,” came his muffled reply.

  Tenn didn’t want to know what Devon was doing. Fire and Water and Air were glowing in his body, and that was enough to give Tenn a hint. Strange noises came from the engine. The truck shuddered.

  “The oil is bad,” Dreya said. “He is purifying it. And charging the battery.”

  “I didn’t realize you could do that,” Jarrett said.

  “At its base, Fire is energy.”

  “So why don’t you have electricity in Outer Chicago?” Tenn asked.

  “Ask Cassandra,” Dreya said. Tenn couldn’t see her face, but he could tell from her voice that there was a smirk on her lips. “Other guilds have electricity. So far, hers is the only one we have visited without it. I think she prefers the appeal of living in the Dark Ages.”

  “Not surprising,” Jarrett muttered.

  Tenn sank back in the seat, and Jarrett put his arm across Tenn’s shoulders.

  He tensed for a moment. Even though they’d spent a few hours earlier curled against each other, this felt foreign. This felt too normal. Too good. He waited for Jarrett to shift, to retract his arm. He didn’t. So Tenn decided to go with it. Tenn snuggled in close, absorbing Jarrett’s warmth. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend they were just in the back of a car on a cool winter’s night, about to drive with friends to the movies or out to eat. He could pretend there were no monsters and no magic—just an empty road and warmth on the horizon. If he ignored the pops and hisses coming from the engine, that is. He didn’t ask if Devon really knew what he was doing. He didn’t want to know.

  Finally, with the crunch of gears and a rumble, the SUV shuddered to life. Devon looked back at the two of them. Although his mouth was covered by his scarf, his eyes grinned with a distinct told-you-so look.

  “Damn, boy,” Jarrett said. “If only we’d known about your skills sooner. You could have been the official bus driver.”

  Devon chuckled and turned back to the front. With a shift of gears, they were off.

  To say it was strange was an understatement. Tenn hadn’t been in a car since...well, since he’d fled from the Academy. He’d never expected to have the experience again. He stayed nestled against Jarrett and watched the world streak by outside the window. Devon turned the heat up.

  “What are you thinking?” Jarrett asked. He ran his fingers through Tenn’s hair.

  Tenn shook his head. It was way too easy to get used to this closeness. Way too dangerous to think this was possible.

  If he let himself think either of those things, he’d just want it more.

  “Nothing. It’s just...this is weird. I mean, it’s just so...normal.”

  He didn’t just mean the car ride. He meant Jarrett, the way that being around each other felt natural, every movement and touch one of memory and not new territory.

  Jarrett felt like home. All of this did.

  “I know,” was all Jarrett said. Then they both went back to staring out the windows, lost in their own thoughts.

  A few miles in, Devon turned on the radio. No stations played, of course—just static. It’s not like they were expecting some magical mystery signal from a Howl-free country or something. That shit only happened in bad zombie flicks. There was a CD in the player, and Devon switched over to it. Tenn jumped as heavy metal blared through the speakers. Devon turned it down.

  The world had changed entirely. Tenn knew that. But here, in the car, snuggled against Jarrett, he could almost let himself believe otherwise. He could almost forget about the Howls and the necromancers and the monsters that seemed to stalk his bedside. He could almost forget the blood staining his hands and heart. If he tried, he could almost let himself believe that this was a life they could have again—driving around with friends, listening to music, going somewhere for enjoyment rather than necessity. He could almost believe there’d be a house at the end and a family to invite over for dinner.

  He could almost believe that everything would be okay.

  He could pretend.

  That lie... That lie was the only thing that made life worth fighting for.

  He closed his eyes, and sleep found him immediately.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HE STOOD AT the window in his room, looking out at the familiar geometry of the streetlamp and garage and backyard, the three-story house across the alley and the giant pine tree at its side. His hand trailed across the curtains. He couldn’t sleep. It was well past midnight, and his parents had been in bed for hours. A part of him didn’t want to be awake, didn’t want to be waiting with this sickness in his stomach. The other part of him wanted to take it all in, every single last second he had here. Tomorrow, he left for Silveron. Tomorrow, he left everything he’d ever known behind. Not that there was much to say goodbye to. Most of his friends had stopped talking to him the moment he’d mentioned his acceptance—whether from anger or jealousy, he wasn’t certain.

  Even his dad had been against the decision. Thirteen is too young to leave home, Tenn had heard him telling Mom. She’d put up a fight. She always would.

  Apparently, a few of his friends thought that magic was the devil’s work, and if so, what did that make him? He’d spent the last weeks of summer vacation here, in his room, alone, watching TV and waiting. It was supposed to be an exciting time—that’s what all the pamphlets said. Instead, he felt miserable. His summer hadn’t been filled with video games and pizza, no more talk of what the coming school year would bring. At least, no more days of that for him; his friends had kept up the tradition without him.

  The photos they’d scattered on social media like intoxicating bread crumbs were proof enough of what he was missing.

  Behind him, the room was cluttered with packed boxes and suitcases. He’d tried to pack light, but his mom wouldn’t have it. She’d thrown in extra blankets and sweaters and socks, and even filled a box with emergency supplies—cookies, granola bars, instant noodles—just in case the cafeteria food was gross. Tenn’s stomach turned. It was the little gestures like that that made leaving so hard—the idea that someone loved him so much, the idea that he was willingly leaving that behind. Most kids his age
wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Then again, most kids probably didn’t think they needed to leave home to find themselves. His only consolation was that it was just for a few months.

  Just a few months.

  Even then, though, he knew he’d never come back. Not as the person he was. He’d come back and be able to use magic, and that would set him apart farther than anything else. He’d entertained the idea of showing off to his friends, making things fly or lighting candles or walking on water.

  What was the point in even thinking that when he didn’t have friends to return to?

  He took a deep breath and went back to his bed, sat down on the covers and stared at the open suitcase in the corner, filled with all his new uniform clothes. It wasn’t robes. He’d almost hoped it would be, fulfilling some childish wizarding fantasy. The uniforms didn’t even look British. Just generic gray collared shirts and black slacks they’d gotten from the same store he got all his clothes.

  He wasn’t even able to convince himself to bring his stuffed owl. He had a feeling the other kids would think it was stupid. Magic was no longer for the geeky. Magic was a career move. Magic was humanity’s way forward.

  He glanced up into the mirror above his dresser and yelped.

  With a crash like a wave, reality came back. He wasn’t thirteen, he wasn’t leaving for Silveron in the morning and he definitely wasn’t meant to be here. His heart raced; if he was here, that meant... He pushed himself from the bed.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Tenn turned around and faced the man standing in the shadows.

  “Get out,” he whispered. Matthias just laughed. That’s when he noticed that Matthias was holding something in his hand. A book.

  No, not a book. His journal. His heart dropped, doubled over with the feeling of betrayal, of being laid bare. Matthias caught his glance and smiled. He stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight.

  “You’re making this too easy,” Matthias said. “Going out into the field again? It’s almost like you want to be found.”

  “Stay away from us,” Tenn said. The glint in Matthias’s eyes made him realize his mistake a second too late.

  “Us? They’re forcing bodyguards on you now? How embarrassing.” He tossed the journal into the air and caught it. “Stupid, too, when one considers the rather mortal implications of being by your side.” He opened to a page. “It would seem that those close to you often meet rather untimely demises.”

  “Shut up,” Tenn said. He didn’t move to attack; he knew there was no point. Not in a dream. Not without any weapon, magical or material.

  “‘I’m worried about leaving,’” Matthias read in a mocking, childlike voice. “‘What if something happens to Mom and Dad when I’m away? I know I can’t protect them, anyway, but I don’t know what I’d do if something bad happened. How do I know I’m not saying goodbye forever? I don’t want to go. I know I can’t stay here, not if I want to really live my life. But I don’t want to leave them behind. It feels like leaving them is the end. Like if I’m gone, something bad will happen. I don’t want to lose them. I already feel like I’ve lost everyone else.’”

  Matthias closed the journal and looked up at him. Tenn felt hollowed out from having his words read back.

  “How does it feel, Tenn?” he asked smoothly. “How does it feel to know that every one of your deepest fears came true? And that you were the cause of them?”

  “I...”

  “You will come to me,” Matthias said. “You are weak. You think you’re strong, that your training has made you hard, but deep inside, you’re still a lost little boy crying for his mother.”

  “Shut up,” Tenn said. There were tears in his eyes. Why wasn’t the dream ending? Why couldn’t he wake up?

  “When will you understand? More will die because of you. Even the friends who keep you safe—either I will kill them, or you will.” He honestly looked concerned. Like he was talking someone off a cliff. Then his mouth quirked into a smile. “You’re dangerous, Tenn. To yourself, and to others. That is why Leanna wants you. You need her guidance. You need her help, before you kill everyone.”

  “I’ll die before I serve her,” Tenn whispered. He tried to build the fire inside him, tried to steel his voice, but being here, being back in this room, hearing those words... He didn’t have the resolve. He was weak. He was empty. He could never run far enough from this place to be anything beyond what he was—lost, scared, confused. Just like Matthias knew him to be.

  “No,” Matthias said. “I know you, Tenn. I’ve seen into your heart. You won’t die. Not yet. You’re too cowardly for that, and Leanna wishes for you to be brought to her alive. You are safe, so long as you do not defy me. But your friends? They are not so important to my mistress. They will die first. Then, when you have no one left to harm with your protection, you will come to her, begging for forgiveness.”

  Tenn looked at Matthias.

  “If you hurt them, any of them, I’ll kill you.”

  Matthias just laughed and dropped the journal at Tenn’s feet.

  “Perhaps,” he said. “But the threat of death means nothing to one like me.” He leaned in close and whispered into Tenn’s ear. “Either come to me or do not. I’ll find you no matter what. And when I do, I will kill them. One by one. And you will watch them scream.”

  His fingers dug into Tenn’s shoulder. Pain coursed through him, and the dark room bled black.

  * * *

  Cold sweat coated Tenn’s skin when he woke, and for a moment, he had no clue where he was. Then he blinked and realized the rumbling was from the car and the warm pillow beneath his head was Jarrett’s lap. He looked up into Jarrett’s face. He was sound asleep and peaceful.

  “Bad dreams?” Dreya asked, peering back to face him. She was still in the passenger seat, Devon behind the wheel.

  “I guess you could say that,” he replied. He slowly forced himself up to sitting, every joint in his tired body reminding him that he was not built to be sleeping in the backseat of a car.

  “You mumbled,” Devon said. Which, in Tenn’s opinion, was a rather ironic thing to say.

  “Sorry,” he replied instead.

  Matthias’s words dug into his skull. He hadn’t seen that old journal since Silveron, but he knew deep in his gut that the words were true. What did that mean? Had Matthias found the journal? Or was the man able to claw into Tenn’s past and read every line of his memory? His chest constricted; if Matthias could read Tenn’s mind, whatever he learned would be fed right back to Leanna.

  Tenn looked to Jarrett. He hadn’t had anything or anyone in his life he’d worried about losing since he’d found his parents torn apart in the garden shed. Not until now.

  “It’s Matthias,” Tenn whispered.

  Devon immediately swerved, and Dreya’s head jerked back. Jarrett mumbled in his sleep.

  “Not here!” Tenn said, fervent but quietly. Devon let out an audible sigh. “He... He’s in my dreams.”

  There was a long silence. Tenn immediately regretted his decision. He fully expected Devon to turn the car around, or for them to kick him out. If Matthias was in his dreams, none of what they said was private.

  “For how long?” Dreya finally asked.

  “Just a few days. Just after...after Water...”

  She swallowed.

  “Then we must be more careful,” she said. “If he is watching...”

  He caught the subtext; she was grateful she hadn’t said where they were going. And she was wondering just how deep they’d gotten.

  “Can you stop it?” Tenn asked. He hated how his voice cracked.

  Neither of them answered. That was answer enough.

  “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Dreya asked after a while. It was barely above a whisper. “Water. It is growing stronger. More vi
olent.”

  Tenn nodded, wondering how much he’d said in his sleep, or how much she felt from her own attunement to the Sphere.

  “We thought the end had come with the Resurrection,” she said gravely. “Now I am not so sure. The world feels once more like it did before the Howls came. An ending is coming. Even the Spheres are calling out to it.”

  In spite of the heat pumping through the vents, he shivered.

  “Does this have to do with the Witches? With our mission?”

  She nodded.

  “In a sense.” Her words were slow, picked carefully to not give too much away. “The Witches are tied to the very fabric of the world. They understand the Spheres on a level deeper than most. For them, magic is a religion, a way of life, rather than a tool to kill. They were the first to know of the Spheres, and look what the rest of the world did with their discovery. Since then, they have hidden themselves, lest their knowledge be bastardized again.”

  They hit a bump that Tenn prayed wasn’t a body. Jarrett snorted himself awake and looked around, eyes immediately wide.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Pothole,” Devon replied.

  Jarrett opened his mouth like he was going to ask more, then thought better of it.

  “Did I miss anything?” he asked instead.

  “Just scenery,” Dreya replied. She looked back to him. Her eyes flickered to Tenn—would she mention Matthias to him? Should Tenn? “It is almost morning. And we are on half a tank.”

  Jarrett nodded. “Let’s stop soon, then. You guys need to sleep, and I don’t know how to drive.” He looked to Tenn. “Do you?”

  Tenn shook his head. He was supposed to get his learner’s permit the summer after his first year at Silveron. Like so many things, that had never come to pass.

  “That settles it,” Jarrett said. “We’ll stop at dawn. Find a strip of cars so we can transfer, get a few hours of sleep. Then we’re off again. Matthias won’t even know we’ve been here.”

  Tenn cringed.

 

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