RUNE
RUNE LICKED THE SEA salt from her lips as the unfurled sails of Alex’s boat ballooned overhead. Her Ghost Walker spell kept the craft concealed as they headed out to open sea. The wind was against them at first, making them easy prey for bigger, faster ships. So Rune cast Tempest
—a spell from Seraphine’s repertoire of elemental castings.
It was designed for sailing, and when combined with a compass showing which direction a witch wished to go, the spell summoned a strong wind to fill a boat’s sails, propelling the craft much more quickly toward its destination.
Rune kept expecting to see a ship in pursuit. To find Gideon at the stern, giving the order to subdue her.
But there was only the sea, rising and falling, everywhere around her.
Aurelia didn’t look back once. She sat with her face in the wind, holding Meadow close, shivering in the cold night air. At one point, Rune slid Gideon’s jacket off and handed it to Aurelia, who used it as a blanket to wrap the child in.
The island shrank behind them. As the fear of being caught ebbed, Rune ran her hands along the Aria’s polished wood, thinking of Alex. How he was saving her once again. She glanced at the stars, sending out a silent thank-you, wondering if it could reach him beyond the grave.
When they left New Republic waters, Rune finally settled in, glancing back one last time as her home disappeared for good.
If she made it to the Continent, the first thing she’d do was find Seraphine and tell her she was running away. Somewhere neither Cressida
nor the Republic’s witch hunters would find her. Perhaps Seraphine would come with her. If not, Rune would get a message to her once she was safe.
The salt spray dampened her hair. The wind stung her cheeks.
Will you miss me, Crimson Moth?
Rune shut her eyes against the memory of his voice.
She should be happy his plot had failed. She’d eluded him; she should be celebrating.
But instead, a chasm had opened inside her.
You are a knife in my heart.
They sailed on.
