The Lost Runes Saga [Epic Fantasy]

EIGHTEEN

Full of disquiet, Vidar walked down the corridor on his own. The kenaz rune imprinted on his forehead showed the bare stone and a long carpet on the floor. The admissions woman said he'd find an exit if he just continued in a straight line before she locked the cell-like door and left back the way they'd come. He was grateful she hadn't given him another lesson in the dangers of rune craft before they separated. Vidar knew the dangers before, and now he'd seen them for himself. It changed nothing. At least not his conviction to use runes or even to teach the craft to others, but he would make sure they all understood what would happen if they didn't follow proper instruction. They'd end up like Sven. Withered husks without a speck of life in them.

At the other end of the long corridor, he found an unlocked door leading to another spiral staircase. Walking round and round as he ascended the steps, Vidar let his fingers touch the bare stone and feel the rugged surface. As long as he kept himself anchored to something real, something solid, perhaps he would not float away and into the strange, heavy feeling in his chest. Sven was dead, but Vidar needed to keep on. He couldn't let himself slow down.

A few steps, or perhaps many, later he stopped and squeezed his hands into tight fists. Vidar rendered the kenaz rune inactive. In the darkness, he released a long, loud, wordless cry, trying to let some of the heaviness he felt out , trying to make some of it go away.

Later, the cellar door shut behind him, and an automatic locking mechanism clicked. He drew in a deep breath of cold air, then pulled on the handle, but there was no opening that up again without a key or a sizeable explosion. Straightening, he looked around. The building was a ruin left behind by the now-dead dragon. First the church, and now the rune scribes' guild. Apparently, many old buildings in Halmstadt had alternate exits, or entrances if you possessed the proper tools.

The house through which he'd emerged was on a street he hadn't seen before, near the moat cutting off Nordstan, the upper city, from the rest of Halmstadt. Damaged buildings littered the area, some were nothing more than blackened walls. Still, people were up and about, working on repairs.

A purple and pink sky told of dawn fast approaching as Vidar made his way back to the shop. The bustling activity of people registered, but he ignored them all, not even keeping a close eye on corners and alleyways for thief activity. Once back, a sound from upstairs broke through the haze. A voice, loud and furious, and it was neither Alvarn's nor Erik's.

He rushed up the stairs. The small bedroom was a bustle of activity, with Alvarn's larger frame taking up most of the room.

Vidar crossed the room in a few strides and leaned in past the door. "What's happening?"

"Your dragon rider woke up!" Erik shouted, turning away from the bed to face Vidar. "And he isn't happy!"

"He's trying to get out of bed," Alvarn grunted as he did his best to keep Rend where he was.

Rend let out a wordless cry.

"Out of the way!" Vidar shouted, pulling the other two back and out of the room.

The look on Rend's face did not register as fear or pain, but rage. Indignant rage. His hand clutched at his chest, and he leveled a furious glare at Vidar. "HERETIC!"

Vidar blinked and shook his head. "What?"

"YOU. MAKE. ME. BLASPHEMY." A finger in the air punctuated each word, pointed right at Vidar in accusation.

"What the damned hell are you blabbering about? I've saved your life!"

Rend pointed at himself. "I. DIE."

"No," Vidar said, feeling frustration turn to rage of his own. "You're not dying until you tell me what I want to know!"

"You transferred dragon's essence to him," Alvarn said from out in the other room, his voice high-pitched and stressed. "I don't think he likes it."

"YES. FAT MAN SAY," Rend said, struggling to get out of bed. His leg was looking much better but Vidar doubted it would carry any sort of weight, so he pushed Rend back down.

"You're the one who showed me how to get the dragon's essence! Stop being so difficult!"

Rend's eyes widened at the comment, but he did not deny it. Instead, he curled into a ball on top of the bed, muttering something in a language Vidar didn't understand, still clutching at his chest.

"Maybe you better give us some space," Vidar said, looking over his shoulder.

"I'll head out then," Erik said. "Need some nails."

Vidar turned back to Rend, then to Erik again. "No, wait. Stay in the house. I need to tell you something."

"What?" Erik asked.

Rend looked almost catatonic. The boy being alone for a minute wouldn't matter. Vidar stepped out into the main room on the upper floor and breathed in. "It's Sven."

"What about him?" Erik asked. Alvarn took one look at Vidar's face and understood something was wrong, but he didn't say a thing.

"He..." Vidar began, unsure how to break the news. "I'm sorry, Erik, but he's dead."

Erik just stood there. He didn't even blink.

"It was the runes. Sven messed up in a way he couldn't come back from. It killed him."

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Alvarn paled and sat down with a heavy thud before putting his face into his hand.

"Erik?" Vidar asked.

Erik's blank expression contorted to show a face Vidar hadn't seen on him before. Tears ran down his cheeks, and his upper lip pulled up, like in a snarl. For the longest time, he still didn't speak a word, but his breathing picked up. Eventually, his finger pointed right at Vidar in accusation. "This is your fault! You talked him into it! Rune witchery! What about Siv?!"

"She's fine," Vidar said.

Erik shook his head. "She's not fine!"

Before Vidar replied, Erik stormed out of the room and down the stairs. The door slammed shut behind him when he exited the building.

The silence hung heavy in the room until Alvarn cleared his throat and spoke without looking up. "...Vidar."

"If you're about to lecture me about the dangers of rune craft, save it."

Alvarn nodded to himself and stood with a sigh. "I'm going down to open the shop."

Once he was gone, Vidar turned back to Rend, who was sitting up with a curious expression. "Friend dead?"

Vidar brought in a chair and sat. "Yes," he said. "A friend of mine died."

"Sorry."

With a nod of thanks, Vidar rubbed his eyes. Tiredness had crept in, and he felt the powerful urge to just lie down and sleep. Instead, he explained Rend's position.

"The dragon's essence is inside me. I gave you some, and it seems to have helped in fixing your leg. Understand?"

Rend raised the hand resting on the bed, almost bringing it up to his chest before letting it drown down again. "Understand. Dragon's blessing."

"Dragon's blessing," Vidar mused. "If that's what you want to call it. Without it, you would've died. Like I said, I need answers from you."

"Not enemy," Rend replied.

"Enemy," Vidar said with a sigh. "Do you know how many buildings you burned? How many people died?"

Rend pointed to himself and shook his head in denial. "Not I. Vatrfjall."

"Your pet dragon!" Vidar spat, sitting forward and raising his hands, almost like he wanted to wrap them around Rend's thin neck.

"No pet," Rend protested. He looked up at the ceiling, eyes darting, as if searching for the right words up there. "Dragon."

Breathing in and out in deep breaths, Vidar sat back again. "You said the dragon, Vatrfjall, was it? That the dragon was a scout."

"No. I scout," Rend answered. "Dragon is dragon."

"You rode the dragon, Rend. You were in control, weren't you?"

"No control."

Vidar was about to say something when Rend spoke again. "Partner. Dragon partner."

"And now your partner is dead because it wanted to dig for the skeletons of other dragons," Vidar said.

"Shadows," Rend said. "Shadows make Vatrfjall angry. Angry sad."

"You lost control multiple times because of shadows?"

"No. No shadow. Demon."

Vidar looked right into Rend's eyes. Fear showed through. Genuine fear. "You called Lytir a demon."

"Lytir?"

"The man you saw by Vatrfjall's corpse."

Rend shuddered. "No man."

"He's a demon?"

Nodding, Rend repeated himself. "Demon."

"Demons aren't real."

The comment resulted in Rend leaning forward, wincing a little as some weight shifted to his bad leg. "Demons real. Dragons kill demons."

"You tried to kill demons?" Vidar asked. "That's why you burned down half of Halmstadt?"

"I scout," Rend said.

Vidar furrowed his brow, then blinked as the hairs on his neck and arms stood and a chill ran through him. "Did you say dragons? As in more than one?"

"Yes."

A lump formed in Vidar's dry throat. It would not go away, no matter how many times he swallowed. "Are they coming here?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Rend thought about that question for a moment before shaking his head. "Soon. Vatrfjall dead. They know. They come. Think demons kill. My fault."

Vidar got to his feet and ran both hands through his hair. Unsure what to do with himself, he stared out the window for a second, thinking he might see dark spots on the horizon, but there were none. He spun in a circle, breathing hard, his thoughts racing in a thousand directions at once, with none coming up with any answers, not even finding the right questions.

"Why? Why are you even here? Why did you come back?"

The legends of the dragons had to be true. Not legends. History. But, as little as Vidar knew of them, he did know the angels had wiped them out, with the support of humans, if the legends were to be believed. It sounded ridiculous, even to himself, but he didn't know what else to think.

"Demons," Rend said.

Vidar shook his head and sat down again, putting his head between his legs and his fingers on the back of his neck. "Demons. Demons."

Gathering his senses as best he could, Vidar sat back up. "Will the dragons attack like yours did?"

"Vatrfjall dead. Angry dragons."

"Great," Vidar sighed. "Just great."

After a moment of thinking, Vidar continued. "Can you talk with them? Stop this?"

"If see," Rend said, thinking it over. "Maybe."

"Will you?"

Rend's entire face twisted to resemble a question mark, and Vidar did his best to explain. "You try?"

"Yes."

Vidar breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

They'd need some sort of plan to have any chance to live through an attack by multiple dragons. People needed to be told. Jarl was high on that list. The man was a liar who broke his word at the drop of a hat, but he was the only official in Halmstadt who'd help. Viktoria, the guildmistress of the rune scribes' guild, needed to know too, and the thieves' guild as well.

Vidar could not do this by himself. The others couldn't learn of Rend's existence. If the crown or even the steward found out, they'd put him in a cell and torture the poor bastard. Looking at him sitting there on the bed, he was even younger than Erik. Just a boy.

"No earn dragon's blessing," Rend said. "Please take."

"You need it for the leg to heal."

"No. You take."

"Fine," Vidar sighed, standing and leaning over to touch the palm of his hand to Rend's chest.

Rend inched away at first, as if on reflex, but then did his best to relax and let it happen. Vidar closed his eyes and concentrated. Little of the dragon's essence remained in Rend's heartwell. Once the last bit of it transferred back to Vidar, Rend breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

Vidar scowled at him before withdrawing. "If you get in too bad a state, I'll be putting it back in there no matter what you want. If you can stop those dragons, I will not allow you to die before you do so, your weird beliefs be damned."

Rend glared back at him without comment, and Vidar pulled back. "I have to go. What you just told me is that Halmstadt is doomed if I don't do something. You wont run off, will you?"

"Doom. Not dragons," Rend said. "Demons. Watch demons."

"One thing at a time. Just stay put."

Rend just looked down at his leg. If he ran, he wouldn't make it far.

Vidar wanted to ask more about these demons Rend was talking about, but at this moment, the approaching death from above was the more immediate threat. People needed to know, and Vidar was the one person to tell them. With a nod of goodbye, he ran out and down the stairs. Before anyone else, he needed to tell Alvarn.