Chapter Seventeen

  “You are insane! I can't believe you would even consider going out there!” My sister threw her hand towards the exit of our home, a cave under the mountain. “After what happened to Mother, and then Father? What's going through that skull? Where would we even go?”I shoved the last of my belongings into the large pack and cinched up the strings. “Not ‘we’, Gia. I'm going alone. I promised Mother you’d be safe. I can't take care of you out there, and I have to find him. You can't come.” I couldn't look at her. I knew she'd be angry.

  Gia froze, except for rubbing the emerald on her wrist. The bracelet, consisting of a few small emeralds set in brass, was her favorite. The metal was worn down and faded with as much as she ran her thumb over the gemstone setting. “What are you saying right now?” She spoke slowly, controlled. “Don't tell me your plan was to run, in the middle of the night, and just leave me here?!”

  “Gia,” I tried to reason, “You’ve never practiced your magic, and you've never had a Persona. How would you even survive out there, as an outlawed species, if you can't even shift on your own?” I stood up from where I was kneeling at the bed and slung my bag over my shoulder. I knew the words would sting her. I learned how to channel my magic from a very young age with Father, while Gia and our mother didn't seem to consider it in the slightest. It was unfair of me to bring it up, but it was the truth.

  When I turned to face her, she was staring daggers at me with tears streaking her face. I sagged, my expression softening. “Gigi…” I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a bear hug. She didn't return the embrace. When I let her go, her tears had dried and stained her face, but still threatened to spill over again.

  “Don't do this.” She pleaded, quietly this time. “Please, Rune.”

  “You know I have to. I can't rest like this. Not knowing where he is, or what happened. It's been five years, and we've heard nothing. This place is not where we belong. This mountain is not a home. It's a tomb.” I took two steps past her, towards the exit.

  Gia spoke through clenched teeth. “Rune of the Mist, if you walk out that door, if you leave me here with no one left, I will never forgive you. I will consider you dead.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Goddess, grant me strength.’ I thought with an exhale. “Giabella of the Mist, please forgive me. I will come home to you, and I will have the answers we deserve. I promise.”

  I started walking again, and this time, I didn't stop. Not when I heard the whispered pleas, not when the ceramic pitcher she'd been carrying shattered, not when the pleas turned to sobs. I steeled my resolve and stepped into the moonlight.

  “I'm sorry.” I spoke under my breath. I never looked back.

  The sound of rapping on my door pulled me from my sleep. I growled loud enough for whoever it was to hear me, and then pulled my pillow over my face.

  “Barrett, it's already midday, and Roland told us to leave for the Western border at sunrise!” Arlo pleaded. “Gods, why did I get reassigned to you in the first place? Sahara would never.” I heard him mutter under his breath.

  I held a silent chuckle as I thought about how Sahara was the exact reason he was reassigned to me in the first place. She wanted him dead, and I offered to do it. For a price, of course. I was, after all, still a contract man for hire. She contacted Roland and told him she no longer required Arlo because she’d hired someone else. Roland decided he was my problem now, Arlo and Barrett were the ones who created the mess with Ravenwood to begin with.

  I got out of bed begrudgingly and sighed. “Fine, I'm coming. Mount the horses to the cart, I'll be out soon.”

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  “Are you certain?” Arlo asked through the door, clearly unconvinced that I was getting up. I opened the door to meet his gaze and sneered.

  “Quite.”

  Arlo observed my half-dressed, heavily annoyed state, muttered an apology and quickly turned away to follow my orders. It amused me to see how quickly he rolled over. The man was built like a beast, but when it came to any sort of authority, he just went belly up like a dog. I rolled my eyes and slammed the door. Fucking coward. I laughed to myself as I shoved my leg through a pair of trousers I’d pulled from the chest.

  “Arlo!” I shouted when I got to the courtyard. He looked up from where he was tying a canvas over the cart. I tossed my head to the side to summon him. He ran to the front and grabbed the horses’ reins. When he brought the cart to the front, I took the reins from him and climbed into the seat. He clambered up next to me and sat with a huff, which made me roll my eyes.

  “Honestly, brother, you’ve the grace of an ogre.” I muttered and snapped the reins, and we were on our way. Our orders from Roland were to set up a new spot on the Western border for him to meet with his ‘friend’ from the North. I kept in touch with Finn and Sahara through a pair of sending stones that we purchased before parting ways. They weren’t perfect, they could only be used once a day, but it was good to know I wasn’t completely alone.

  The plan we’d hatched over the stones the night before was simple. A day or so after Arlo and I started the expedition, we’d get into an unfortunate run-in with the Royal Guard, which would of course be Finnegan in uniform. He would confiscate our merchandise in the name of the King, and arrest us. We’d be ‘held’ at a camp that Sahara and Finn set up in advance, where I could finish the job properly without the chance of being intercepted by passersby on the road.

  Overcomplicated, if you ask me. August chirped as I thought about the plan. Just slit the man’s throat in his sleep along the way and be done with it. I shook my head and responded, Roland and the others won’t believe me if I just say it happened and I show up with no evidence and no merchandise. In their eyes, Arlo is fine and we took all of their property to sell for ourselves.

  Arlo clearing his throat pulled me away from my conversation with August. I listened to the wheels of the cart rattle along the cobblestone as the horses trotted at a steady pace, waiting for him to speak. “Have you got any smokes left on you?” Arlo finally spoke up. “Y’know, the good ones that we got in Sparcee?”

  I reached for the pocket inside the lining of my jacket and pulled out two rolled bundles of herbs the size of quills. “S’varcé.” I corrected, “A few, yeah.” He quickly pulled a matchbox from his own pocket and lit them both. He thanked me as he took one from my outstretched fingertips. I took the other and put it in my mouth.

  I understood now why Finn kept cigars on his person. I’d never smoked before for fear of affecting my magic, because that’s what I was told by the Elders growing up. However, during the first couple days working Underneath, August gave me a crash course in the common substances Barrett seemed to push frequently. It was then I learned about a low-tiered cigarette that was meant to relax the nerves, which also happened to heighten my perception because of my fae blood. Now I quite enjoyed my daily smoke.

  I took a long draw from my cigarette and turned my head to blow a stream of smoke off to the side of the cart. “Arlo,” I said after a few minutes of us both relaxing and enjoying the calm ride on the empty road, “This’ll be good for us, starting up in a new town. I won’t be smothered by that blonde tramp. You and I can go and sell whatever we like. You won’t be playing two sets of cards anymore. It’ll be just like old times.”

  He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it will. Except this time we’ll be rich.” He patted the barrel in the cart behind us. I laughed and cast a side-glance his way. I almost felt sorry for the brute, seeing him like this. He wasn’t a bad person, he just got mixed up with some bad stuff and let the drugs and the money control him.

  That is how most corruption starts, unfortunately. It's all in the paths we choose. All it takes is one slip into temptation, and it can turn the most righteous men into the villains in children’s stories. They become desperate, and nothing is more powerful than desperation. August pondered thoughtfully, although that didn’t help me feel any better about what was coming next for the man sitting next to me. I really don’t like when you ponder out loud in my mind. It’s troublesome and ominous. I told him, which only got an echoing laugh in response. You’ll see what I mean eventually. He went quiet after that, leaving those words to echo in the back of my mind.

  “Creepy bastard.” I grumbled under my breath.