RUNE
“I TOLD YOU IT was warm down here!” William yelled to be heard above the engine’s noise. He stepped off the steel catwalk and descended the spiral staircase, leading Rune deeper into the boiler room. The steam from the boilers wafted up to them, moistening Rune’s skin as the SHUNK SHUNK SHUNK of the engine beat loudly. “Careful not to slip!”
Rune gripped the rail, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Gideon as possible. She and William had left the room where the ship’s staff were having an after-work party, and where she had found Gideon taking Abbie’s hand and leading her into the dancers.
The sight was like a fist squeezing her heart.
Gideon had called Abbie an old friend. So why did it seem like more? And why did it bother Rune so much?
And why hadn’t he asked her to dance?
A girl like you wouldn’t be caught dead dancing with riffraff, he’d once told her.
How can he know if he never asks me?
Sighing, she turned her attention to William.
“Did you fight alongside them at the New Dawn?” She raised her voice to be heard as they descended. “Ash and Abbie and Gideon, I mean.”
He shook his head, helping her down the steps. “I grew up on the Continent. I only met Ash and Abbie here, aboard the Arcadia. Though, from all the stories they tell, I sometimes feel like I was there.”
Another question hung from the tip of her tongue, though Rune was afraid to ask it.
She forced it out: “Gideon and Abbie weren’t just friends back then, were they.”
William paused for a second, halfway down, and glanced up into her face. He shook his head.
Rune nodded, lowering her gaze to the next stair, and continued down.
Why would he lie?
But Gideon had lied from the start: pretending to be in love with her to catch the Crimson Moth.
At the bottom, Rune stepped off the staircase to find herself facing a row of black boilers, their glowing red mouths opening and closing as stokers shoveled coal into them.
“Try to stay out of the way,” William said as he pressed his hand to the small of Rune’s back, guiding her past the sweaty, coal-stained men keeping the fires aglow.
The alley between the bulkhead and the boilers was piled with coal at the edges, and overhead ran the steel catwalk they’d walked down only moments ago.
How many levels down are we? she wondered, staring up through the maze of ladders and pipework.
Rune was no stranger to ships—she’d inherited her grandmother’s shipping business. But Nan’s ships were wind powered. Nothing compared to this.
For a moment, she forgot about Gideon and Abbie and the knot in her chest, marveling instead at the activity teeming around her. Here she was, walking through the heart of a massive machine kept afloat by hundreds of thousands of parts, all of which were kept running by people who worked around the clock.
She’d never felt so small and insignificant. “Incredible, isn’t it?” William yelled as they walked.
She gave him a smile, even as she began to worry. Because beneath her silk gloves, Rune’s hands had started to sweat.
She needed to be careful. There was a spellmark drawn in blood on her thigh, keeping her disguised. If her skin grew too damp, the mark could smudge and the illusion would evaporate, leaving her exposed.
Rune couldn’t stay down here long. “What else is down here?” she asked.
“There’s a cargo hold on this level,” said William, ducking out of the way of the fire stokers. “It’s on the far side of the boilers.”
A cargo hold.
Rune tried to contain her excitement.
It was exactly what she was hoping for. If she could look inside—a long shot, since the ship’s holds were likely locked—she could determine if there was room to smuggle a few witches.
“Is it the only one? Or are there others?” Worried that her questions might arouse suspicion, she added: “My grandmother used to own a shipping company. I’m fascinated by ships.”
He smiled, indulging her. “There are other holds, but they can only be accessed from outside.”
At the end of the row of boilers, they turned to enter a small walkway leading to the next stokehold.
A trickle of sweat ran down Rune’s spine. She needed to get out of here, and soon.
“When do they load them?” It was one thing she’d need to know: when staff entered and exited the holds.
“A few hours before departure. They seal them after the witch-hunting hounds check the luggage.”
Rune frowned. “Seal them as in … lock them? With a key?”
“Seal them with hatches,” he said. “Which are bolted and caulked.”
Well. That was unfortunate. Rune could unlock a door with magic, but she couldn’t unbolt a hatch without people noticing.
“The hold on this level is only used for coal and ship supplies, though. So it isn’t bolted.” To Rune’s surprise, he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Should we investigate? Or would you rather return to your husband?”
His thumb grazed her knuckles. Surprised by the intimate gesture, Rune glanced up to find his eyes asking a wordless question.
Trust me. Gideon’s voice echoed in her mind. I’m a man. I know what he wants.
Was Gideon right? Had William brought her down here to seduce her? Rune stared at his hand on hers, feeling uneasy.
But if it got her into the cargo hold …
I might not get another chance to investigate.
What other choice did she have? If she wanted to smuggle witches aboard the Arcadia, she needed to see inside that cargo hold. To do that, she needed to play along.
It wouldn’t be hard; this was a game she excelled at.
Rune looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m sure my husband doesn’t even know I’m gone.”
The corner of William’s mouth lifted. “Then let’s—”
Behind them, a voice roared like thunder. Louder than the engine’s noise.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my wife?” William flinched.
Rune spun to find Gideon materializing from the steam, storming toward them. His massive frame filled the narrow alley, and his eyes were black with rage.
Gideon lunged for William, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and shoving him up against the bulkhead wall. William winced at the impact.
“Stop!” Rune grabbed Gideon’s arm before he did further damage. “He was only—”
“And you.” Without letting go of William, Gideon threw her a dark look. “What were you thinking? Coming down here alone? With him?”
I warned you about this guy was the furious accusation.
But what right did he have to be angry? Rune wasn’t his actual wife.
He’d made it clear the very idea of being married to her appalled him.
And he’d been flirting with Abbie all evening. The latter made her hands clench.
“Do you have to be such a brute?” Rune took William’s arm and pulled him from Gideon’s grasp. “What’s wrong with you? He’s just giving me a tour.”
“It’s true,” said William, innocently lifting his hands. “I’ll bring her right back when we’re done. I promise.”
“You’re not bringing her anywhere.” Gideon’s hands were fists at his sides, mirroring Rune’s. “She’s coming back with me.”
Rune crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere with a man who behaves as abhorrently as you do.”
“As your husband, I insist.” He prowled toward her, reaching for her. “Insist all you like,” said Rune, twirling out of his grip. “I’m refusing.”
He was standing over her now. Head bent. Inches away. His gaze bored into hers as they seethed at each other. “Listen, you demon: I will carry you out of here if I have to, and you know it.”
“That’s precisely my point!”
William cleared his throat. “I really don’t think this is—”
Gideon tore his gaze from Rune to glare at the man beside them. “Get the fuck out of here. Before I throw you into something worse than a wall.”
Rune rolled her eyes.
But she looked to William. “Go. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Gideon watched him leave. Only when William disappeared into the steam did he turn his rage back on Rune.
The heat of it burned her.
“Are you out of your magic-addled mind? What are you doing down here?” He glanced around them, taking in their surroundings as if for the first time. “I told you not to trust that…”
His eyes narrowed as some realization dawned on him.
“Merciful Ancients. This is part of your plan, isn’t it? You’re going to use the Arcadia to smuggle your witches out of the Republic. That’s why you’re down here.”
Rune’s heart fell. Was she so transparent?
To him? Apparently yes.
“You’re unbelievable.” Gideon stepped back, running a hand roughly through his hair. “Here I was, thinking he was trying to take advantage of you. But it’s the other way around, isn’t it? You lured him here to use for your own purposes.”
Okay, that was too far.
Rune hugged herself, trying to shield herself from his anger. “Yes, Gideon. That’s me: a grand seductress.”
She’d had quite enough of this conversation. Moving to go around him, Rune started to follow William back to the party.
He stepped in front of her, blocking her way through the narrow alley. “You say that as if it isn’t true.”
A wave of anger swept through her. She wanted to shove him, but any amount of force she used wouldn’t budge him. It would only make her look pathetic.
“Let me pass!”
This time when he reached for her, Rune wasn’t fast enough to evade. He pulled her in close, his grip firm on her wrist. “I was worried about you. Afraid you were falling prey to some cad, when I should have known better.” His gaze flickered over her face. “The Crimson Moth only ever pretends to be prey. In truth, she’s the predator.”
The words stung. But of course this was how he viewed her. Rune wasn’t someone doing whatever she needed to do to survive people like him. To Gideon, Rune was a cruel witch. A dangerous temptress. A master manipulator.
Just like Cressida.
His voice was low. Rough. “You’ve made a fool of me yet again.” Caught in his grip, Rune gave up trying to pull free and glanced away,
no longer able to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true—that it was William who brought her down here. Gideon would see what he wanted to see.
He stepped closer, taking up all the air. Raising her already sweltering temperature.
“Do you have nothing to say for yourself, Rune?”
Why did something so simple—him saying her name—threaten to shatter her into a million pieces? She hated his effect on her. She wished she could reverse it. Wished he felt half as agonized as she did.
“Did I wound your pride, Captain Sharpe?” she said, hoping to sting him the way he had stung her. “It wasn’t personal. As you said: I use everyone.”
She tried to tug her wrist free. But his grip held her fast.
“Sometimes I think I could forgive you for that—using me, to save your precious witches. I could understand it. But the thing I can’t forgive, the thing I will never understand, is how you could make me fall for you when all along you were in love with my brother.”
Rune glanced up into his eyes. His gaze was intense. A tempest of feeling. It wasn’t the first time he’d accused her of such a thing. This time, trapped as she was with him, Rune couldn’t let it go unchallenged.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“You’re still wearing his ring!”
The anger radiated off him. It surprised Rune, who felt him holding the worst of it back. And deeper than the anger: hurt. Real hurt.
Rune frowned, confused by it. You couldn’t hurt someone who didn’t care about you … right? And Gideon didn’t care about Rune—not the real Rune. Not the witch.
His free hand lifted, as if to touch her, then clenched instead, returning to his side. “I hate your damned lies.”
Her lies? What about his lies?
“You want the truth?” Her own hurt bubbled up, like steam from a volcano ready to erupt. “This is the truth: I would have married you in a heartbeat, had you asked me. I would have married you knowing you would hand me over to my killers—or kill me yourself—the moment you found out what I was. That’s how pathetic I am, Gideon! That’s how desperately I wanted to be yours!”
His brow creased as his eyes searched her face. “Then why say yes to my brother?”
“Because he loved me! Because he didn’t want me dead! It was the best offer I was ever going to get!”
This time, when she tried to yank herself free, Gideon let go. She stumbled back several steps, glancing down at her gloved hand. The one bearing Alex’s ring.
She’d been afraid to take it off. As if removing it would dishonor him.
I wish it was yours, she wanted to say to Gideon. I wish you’d given it to
me.
But saying so would be a profound betrayal of Alex.
“I loved your brother,” she said instead. “But only as a friend. A dear friend. Maybe it could have become more, eventually. And maybe that wasn’t fair to him. But…”
She felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes she wondered if Alex had been in love with a version of Rune that didn’t exist.
I know the Crimson Moth. And she is no caged thing.
That’s what Alex had gotten wrong: he wanted to give Rune a quiet, comfortable life. And for a moment, Rune had thought she wanted that. But deep down, she knew the peaceful future she might have had with Alex would never have satisfied. Not completely.
There was a part of Rune’s soul—most of it, maybe—that yearned for adventure. That craved a challenge. That liked a little danger.
For better or worse, Rune needed these things to feel alive. In wanting her to live a safe, easy life, Alex was—without realizing it—wanting Rune to be less herself.
She tugged off her glove. Sliding the ring from her finger, she walked toward Gideon, grabbed his hand, and pressed the silver band into his palm. The moment his fingers closed around it, relief flooded her. Like a burden lifted.
“I was just a girl to Alex.” She stepped away, pulling her glove back on. “Someone to be loved and cherished and fought for. That’s why I said yes to him.”
The nerve in Gideon’s jaw ticked.
“I’m not a girl to you, am I? I’m a witch, and always will be. Something to be hated and hunted down. Not cherished or protected. Not loved.”
Rune waited for him to deny it. To contradict her.
But he only stood there, silent and stoic. Confirming what she already knew.
I am such a fool.
Stepping around him, Rune ran for the stairs.
