RUNE
“HOW DID YOU MANAGE it?” Rune tried not to slip as they made their way down the rain-slick gangway. “There isn’t a single witch-hunting hound in sight.”
She knew how he’d done it, of course. She just didn’t want to give him a reason to think she’d overheard his scheming with William.
The sky was moody overhead. Black clouds sat on a gray horizon, letting them know it had recently stormed, and might storm again, if it felt like it.
“I had someone take care of it,” Gideon said, carrying their luggage beside her.
Right, thought Rune. Just like you’ll take care of me, soon enough.
But the moment she stepped off the dock and onto the busy wharf, her dark thoughts scattered. Rune felt like a ship dropping anchor after months adrift on an ocean of tempestuous waves. The island beneath her was steady. Secure.
She breathed in, and with the salty air came the smell of sea and rain. Of lichen and juniper forests.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
Of home.
But for Rune, home meant danger. This was witch-hunting territory, and here her life was forfeit. She couldn’t walk the New Republic’s streets as herself. Not to mention: Gideon’s plan was now set in motion.
She needed to be especially careful.
Rune had cast Ghost Walker before disembarking, in case they were walking into a trap. It had been Gideon’s idea, oddly enough. As if he half
expected one.
But if they were walking into a trap, it was yet to be sprung. “Can I borrow your horse?” Rune asked.
She needed to get to Wintersea House. Needed it like she needed air to breathe and water to drink.
Wintersea was safe. Wintersea was hers.
If Gideon didn’t lend her his horse, she’d have to rent one from the city stables. Rune had packed enough money to get her through the next week or so. She didn’t want to be here any longer than that.
“Where are you planning to go?” he asked.
“Home,” she said as she walked across the wharf, toward the city streets. “To Wintersea. Once you have the sibyl, bring her to me. In the meantime—”
“Rune … you can’t.”
Can’t? Rune scoffed. If he thought she was going to stay here in the city with him—
“Wintersea House is the residence of Noah Creed now.” Rune stopped in her tracks.
What?
“He claimed it after you left.”
Left. Like she’d had a choice in the matter. Rune hadn’t left. She’d been forced to flee for her life.
Her hands curled into fists. All her things now belonged to the Good Commander’s son? Her books and clothes and casting room; Lady, her beloved horse; Nan’s gardens and the pine needle path through the woods to the beach …
All Noah’s.
“Where am I going to go?” she whispered.
“My apartment,” said Gideon, turning onto the street and heading toward Old Town.
Rune stared at his back, feeling like she might burst into tears. But what choice did she have?
 |
THE LAST TIME SHE was inside this tenement building, Gideon handed her over to the Blood Guard.
The time before that, she gave herself to him, body and soul, when they made love in his bed.
When she stepped through the door, flashes of memory hit like a gale- force wind—his mouth grazing her thigh, his cold voice ordering his soldiers to arrest her.
A war of emotions raged within her. She felt dizzy with them all. Though she’d been to his parents’ tailor shop downstairs a few times,
she’d only been to his apartment once—on the night she spent in his bed. It had been dark then, with only the moon shining through the windows to illuminate things.
Now, daylight laid everything bare.
The main room was sparsely furnished. On one side stood a small kitchen with a woodstove; on the other, a sitting area with a sofa and shelves. The sofa was worn, but not threadbare. The floorboards beneath her feet were warped and scuffed, yet sturdy. And she even spotted books on the shelves.
As she made her way over to read their titles, a wooden figurine no bigger than her palm grabbed Rune’s attention. Someone had carved the pale wood into the shape of a deer. Its smooth curves called to Rune, and she picked it up.
“It was Tessa’s,” said Gideon, shutting the door behind them. “My father made it for her.”
Rune knew almost nothing about Alex and Gideon’s little sister, except that she’d died young. Killed by Cressida.
Rune ran her fingers over the deer, which exuded a kind of warmth despite being made of nothing but wood.
Nan had bought Rune dozens of toys as a child. Too many, probably. But no one had ever made Rune a toy. She found fragments of Levi Sharpe in the chiseled surface, where the man had skillfully shaved away wood to expose the form beneath. He’d left his marks; something to say he’d been here, that he loved his daughter.
Realizing her knuckles were turning white, Rune loosened her grip on the deer.
“I’m going to shower,” Gideon said from behind her. “And then I need to report to the Commander. Are you hungry? I don’t have much food, just some apples and hardtack under the sink. But there’s a day market a few streets over where you can buy food to cook.”
Cook?
Her?
Rune lowered the deer and stared at Gideon.
“Right.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck, glancing at the ceiling. “You don’t know how to cook.”
“I have servants for that,” said Rune, defensive.
Or rather, she’d had servants for that. Now she had nothing.
He sighed. “Never mind. I don’t want you burning the building down.
Wait until I get back, and I’ll make us dinner.”
Rune watched him disappear down the hall. Who’d taught him to cook?
His mother? His father?
She glanced down to the deer figurine in her hand, wondering what that would be like: Having a mother and father. Being taught to cook.
Rune wouldn’t have traded Nan for anything in the world, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. What was it like, growing up in a family like Gideon’s? Parents. Siblings. A house full of people, teeming with life. The loneliness nipping at her heels for years suddenly caught up, sinking its teeth into Rune.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The pounding scattered her thoughts.
Rune went to the window and glanced out.
Half a dozen soldiers in red uniforms stood outside the door below. She drew back, keeping out of sight and sucking in a breath.
Had Gideon summoned the Blood Guard? Had they come to arrest her?
It made no sense. If he wanted her arrested, he should have let them discover her on the Arcadia. They could have taken her straight to prison from there.
“What…” Gideon emerged from the hall, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his feet bare. He glanced at Rune, heading for the window.
His mouth thinned into a grim line. “Damn it.” The pounding increased.
“How do they know I’m here?” Rune backed away, nearly tripping over the coffee table.
“They’re not here for you,” he said, re-buttoning his shirt and striding across the room to check the windows on the other side. “They’re here for me.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“It’s what I didn’t do.” Gideon unlocked the pane, then swung it out. “They’ll want to search the apartment.”
Rune joined him at the open window, peering down into an empty alleyway below.
“I’ll help you up.”
She frowned at him. “Up where?”
“Onto the roof.” He took her hips in his hands and lifted her into the pane. With no other options, Rune got her feet under her, then gripped the pane. The roof was directly overhead, a little slanted, but not enough to be steep. “Here. Take this up, too.”
Gideon left and came back with her suitcase as the pounding on the door down below grew more insistent. Grabbing the leather handles, Rune hefted it onto the tiles overhead, then crawled up after it.
“Stay there until I return.” “And if you don’t return?”
“Then you’re on your own,” he said, before swinging the pane shut.
Wonderful.
A moment later, muffled voices entered the apartment below. Rune took off her shoes to ensure she didn’t slip, then kept low to the rooftop tiles as she scurried toward the roof’s peak, lined with chimneys. Keeping herself hidden, she peered down to the street below, watching as two Blood Guard soldiers brought Gideon out, his hands bound in front of him.
They forced him onto a horse, and then rode toward the palace.
She heard booted footsteps inside as the remaining soldiers searched his apartment. Only when they, too, left, taking their horses with them, did Rune relax. Pressing her back to a chimney, she sank to the sun-warmed tiles and let out a breath.
Feeling a sudden roughness beneath her palm, she lifted her hand. Three names were scratched into the tiles: Tessa. Alex. Gideon. The Sharpe siblings must have played up here as children.
That’s how Gideon knew where to hide me.
Nan would have killed Rune if she’d ever tried to climb onto a roof.
Her fingers traced the names, lingering on his. Wondering what trouble he was in, and if he would return—or if she’d be forced to find her way down and rescue him.
