RUNE
IT HAD BEEN UTTERLY stupid to go to Gideon’s bed last night.
Rune was certain he’d been too drugged to remember her climbing under his covers and burrowing into him. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was, she remembered. She remembered all of it.
His heat, driving the chill out of her body. The delicious feel of his bare skin against hers. His powerful arms holding her fiercely, tightly. As if she was his. As if nothing could hurt her so long as he was there.
It could be like that every night, if you wanted. And she did want it.
That was the problem.
Rune had woken from a nightmare and found herself alone in the dark. These days, her nightmares were usually about Cressida. But last night, it was Nan who walked her dreams. Blood Guard soldiers dragged her grandmother up the purging platform’s steps as she screamed for Rune to help her. But the crowd pressed in from all directions, and the more Rune tried to get to her, the more they forced her back.
Until Nan’s screams fell silent.
Rune couldn’t sleep after that. Every shadow hid a nightmare. And though it was irrational, she wanted Gideon. In a moment of weakness, she went searching for him.
She found him sleeping in the bedroom across the hall, along with some tincture on his bedside table. Giving it a sniff, Rune recognized the smell of a sleeping draught.
It was a mistake, and she regretted it. She couldn’t let it happen again. She needed to tear herself away before Cressida found them. It was only a matter of time.
There were two choices: have Gideon ripped away from her, or leave before he could be.
No, there’s a third choice. You can ask him to come with you.
She shook the thought away. “Sugar?”
Rune glanced up to find Bart Wentholt holding out a mug of coffee in one hand and a sugar bowl in the other.
Rune took the coffee, cupping its warmth. “Please.”
It was funny how, now that she was really looking, there was an intelligence in his warm brown eyes she hadn’t noticed before. Bart Wentholt had fooled her into thinking him a dolt, and Rune admired him for it—the way one con artist admires another.
Bart dropped a lump of sugar in her mug before moving on to Seraphine, who was already taking her seat at this table on the terrace. Around them, bees droned in the flowers, birds sang in the trees, and sunlight filled the air.
It was strangely peaceful, for an island at war.
Harrow sat on the opposite end of the table from Juniper, who sat on the other side of Rune. Gideon took the seat between Harrow and Bart.
An invisible line had been drawn across the table, separating witches from patriots. The patriots had no reason to believe these witches weren’t secretly loyal to Cressida or her causes. And the witches couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a trap, with Blood Guard soldiers coming to arrest them at any moment.
If this was going to work, they all had to trust each other. But no one had a reason to.
Maybe, once he sees how impossible this mission is, Gideon will give up and come with me.
“Seraphine, Juniper…” Gideon glanced from witches to patriots. “This is Bart. And it seems you already know Harrow.”
Juniper shifted in her seat but said nothing. Harrow crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.
“Well?” she asked Gideon. “What’s your plan, Comrade? The Blood Guard are looking for you. Cressida is looking for you. You can’t hide here forever.”
“He doesn’t have a plan,” said Rune.
“Yet.” Gideon shot her a withering look. “I don’t have a plan yet.”
“It’s not too late to hand them in.” Harrow nodded toward Rune, Seraphine, and Juniper.
“What I do have is a proposition,” said Gideon, ignoring her.
He rose from his seat and stood between the table on the terrace and the gardens beyond. Rune stared into her coffee, preparing herself to listen to his nonsense all over again.
“You said yourself the Blood Guard are rudderless, Harrow. And Noah Creed is not his father. If it’s true his army is bleeding soldiers, we can draw those soldiers to our side. I know these men and women. I know what they want, and what they’ll fight for, and I’m willing to bet there are those on your side”—he glanced at Seraphine and Juniper—“who want the same thing: a world where they and their loved ones can be happy and safe. A world without tyranny, violence, or hate. A world where we can live as equals.”
Harrow blew out a skeptical breath and sank lower into her chair.
“You have been hunting us for years,” said Juniper suddenly. “What reason do we have to trust you?” She glanced at Harrow. “Any of you?”
“I just gave you your enemy’s weakness,” said Gideon. “The Blood Guard are floundering without a strong leader. There’s one reason to trust me.”
“She’s right, though,” said Bart. “Even if it were possible to steal the Good Commander’s army from under him and then crush Cressida’s, why would anyone believe we wouldn’t return to hating each other?”
Gideon seemed about to respond when Seraphine’s voice cut through the noise.
“Cressida’s army is also in shambles,” she said, folding her hands on the table. “Half of Soren’s soldiers blamed Cressida for the prince’s murder and
left, taking his ships with them. The other half she pays to keep in her employ—but at some point, the money will run out.”
This seemed to surprise Gideon, who glanced at Harrow, as if trying to confirm the information.
“Even now,” Seraphine continued, “many witches are deeply troubled by Cressida’s tactics, but are afraid to rise against her when disloyalty will cost their lives. They know Cressida is the only thing standing between them and the witch hunters, and for that reason alone, most will remain loyal. She is the lesser of two evils. However: with Soren’s army diminished, and without the sisters she badly needs to rule at her side, Cressida will struggle to hold on to her power. If someone were to offer the witches a better deal, they might be persuaded to abandon their queen. Or better yet: turn on her.”
This, Rune knew, was exactly what Gideon wanted: fault lines running through both sides.
But was Seraphine truly considering this? Allying herself with Gideon’s reckless cause? Very few witches would dare stand against Cressida, knowing how painful her vengeance could be. Rune had the scars on her back to prove it. Witches who hadn’t seen Cressida whip her almost to death would have heard the story. It would be a cautionary tale.
Gideon planted his hands on the table, leaning in as his gaze locked with Seraphine’s. “If we permanently ensured she can’t resurrect Elowyn and Analise, would that help?”
“It would be a start.”
“There’s a long-lost heir, right?” said Harrow, leaning her chair back so it balanced on only two legs. “A sibling Cressida needs to do the resurrecting? If we found and killed them, it would put an end to her resurrection plans.”
Seraphine tensed. Juniper reached for Rune’s hand beneath the table.
Rune stared into her coffee, a chill sweeping through her as she remembered Gideon’s plans to hunt down the missing Roseblood.
There hadn’t been enough time to tell Gideon the truth. And even if there had been, Rune wasn’t sure she wanted him to know.
If he knew it was me, what would he think?
Not only had her biological family destroyed his, but Rune was the sister of the girl who’d abused him.
Would he do as Harrow recommended—dispose of her before Cressida could use her?
It would be the smart thing to do, anyone would agree. Her death could prevent the resurrection and upend Cressida’s plans for ultimate tyranny.
She watched Gideon run a hand over his rough-shaven cheeks, as if contemplating Harrow’s question. Before he could answer it, Juniper interrupted, still squeezing Rune’s hand.
“Instead of murdering innocents”—her voice sharpened as she cut her gaze to Harrow—“I’ll return to the capital and learn where Cressida is keeping her sisters’ bodies. If we destroy them, they can’t be resurrected.” Juniper glanced at Gideon. “While I’m there, I could recruit more witches to our cause.”
Our cause.
Rune couldn’t help but notice the word choice.
“And why should we trust you?” The legs of Harrow’s chair slammed onto the floor as she leaned across the table, eyes narrowing on Juniper. “You could just as easily give us all away.”
There it was again: us.
Juniper stared her down. “The same could be said about you.”
Our. Us. Despite their squabbling, they spoke as if they were on the same side, even if they didn’t know it yet.
“I’ve never given Cressida reason to believe I’m disloyal. She trusts me.” Juniper spoke to Gideon now, ignoring Harrow. “As soon as I learn where Elowyn and Analise are preserved, I’ll report back.”
“I’ll go with her,” Harrow cut in. “To ensure she doesn’t double-cross us.”
Juniper’s brows shot up her forehead. “You? You’ll be recognized and put to death the moment you set foot in the capital.”
“And you care about that?”
Juniper glanced away. From across the table, Harrow couldn’t see the shine of tears in Juniper’s eyes. Rune squeezed her hand.
“And if this entire plan fails?” Rune demanded, cutting through the argument.
She glanced from Harrow and Juniper to Gideon and Seraphine. “You will be responsible for the slaughter of those you give false hope to. If your barter doesn’t pay off, and Cressida wins, she’ll torture and kill everyone who stood against her. You know this.”
Seraphine studied Rune with her onyx eyes. “You’re right. But if there’s a chance—”
“You were supposed to be gone,” said Gideon from across the table, pinning Rune with his heated gaze. “And yet, here you are.”
Anger ignited in her chest. Rune wanted to say she didn’t have a choice; Cressida had tortured her and dragged her back. But the thought of Cressida brought back the sting of the whip and that bone-deep fear.
“You want to run away?” he said. “Go. No one is stopping you.”
The words stung. He glared at her, as if he no longer cared whether she was here or not. As if her doubt annoyed him.
As if she annoyed him.
Bess and Antonio shattered the tension by stepping onto the terrace, each one carrying a large, lidded platter.
“Breakfast is ready,” sang Antonio, setting his platter down on the table. “You have some more visitors, Captain Sharpe,” said Bess, lowering
hers.
Summoned by her words, a ragtag crew of people stepped out onto the terrace. At the sight of them, Gideon rose to his feet.
“Ash? Abbie? What are you doing here?”
It wasn’t just Ash and Abbie, but the entire group from the Arcadia. Gideon’s old comrades.
“I got a strange telegram from Laila,” said Ash, rounding the table to pull Gideon into a fierce hug. “All it said was you were in dire straits, and to come if we could. I must say, things are pretty grim out there.”
They pulled apart. Gideon stared at his old friend, eyes full of wonder. “And you came all this way to…?”
“To help, of course.” It was Abbie who spoke.
Abbie stepped forward and Ash moved away, until it was just her and Gideon, considering each other.
“We’re here to support you.”
Rune couldn’t help but notice the way Abbie looked at Gideon. Like she believed in him. Like she would follow him into hell, if only he asked.
It was this that made Rune push away from the table and flee.
 |
SHE WANTED TO LOOK at Gideon like that. Wanted to believe in him like that. To trust he could deliver them from this.
But she didn’t believe it. She couldn’t.
She could only believe in Cressida’s cruelty and power and vengeance. She believed Cressida would prevail, and execute them all. She believed Gideon would lead everyone to their deaths.
I can’t stay and watch that happen.
She wanted to put the whole world between herself and the scene on the terrace.
Bess had given her directions to the hot spring this morning. It wasn’t the other side of the world, but it would give Rune privacy. Not only had she not bathed in days, but there was little chance of someone finding her there and seeing her destroyed body.
It was only a ten-minute ride to the hot spring, situated at the top of a mossy headland. By the time she and Lady arrived, she was a little less upset. Hot water gushed from the source, forming a waterfall as it flowed down to the flat stones beneath.
Rune left Lady to graze further afield, grabbed the towel and the bar of soap she’d put in the saddlebag, and headed for the waterfall. Setting her towel down on a dry rock, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the steam clouding the air. Its heat caressed her skin.
She drew closer to the waterfall, her feet slapping against wet stone.
Already, she was feeling better. More herself.
She saw now how ridiculous it was, the way her chest tightened at the sight of Abbie. And how humiliating, that the look between Abbie and Gideon made her want to run like some small, frightened animal.
She wasn’t that girl. She didn’t trip over silly feelings. Rune survived.
She stepped into the waterfall, letting its heat soak her skin. This is all I needed. A chance to clear my mind.
Turning her face into the rushing water, she closed her eyes against the warm droplets …
… and burst into tears.
