Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)

Justin nodded and stepped over to Tenn, throwing him over his shoulder fireman-style. Tenn wanted to map the place out, but all he could see was the floor and he was too drained to fight for a better view.

A door opened, and Tenn was hit with a blast of warm air that smelled like cinnamon and fir as they went down a maze of white-carpeted hallways. He closed his eyes briefly. How long had he been unconscious in the basement? How long until sunrise and the twins started their attack? How the hell was he going to fight his way to Jarrett—and fight their way out—when he could barely move his head without being struck with pain? They already knew he could cloak himself, and it was clear even that magic was faulty.

He tried to think. He tried to race through the runes, to discover some deeper level of meaning, but his thoughts were thick, his mind slow from what Leanna had done to him.

They halted, and he heard the click of a door opening. All thoughts of fighting and escape were knocked from his head, along with the wind in his lungs, when Justin threw him to the ground. Tenn moaned.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Justin said. He kicked Tenn in the side. Then he knelt down. “After all, you don’t want to fuck up your heroic entrance.”

He grabbed Tenn’s chin and forced his face to the side.

The room was white and dimly lit. And there, in the shadows, was Jarrett.

“I’ll let you two lovebirds reconnect,” he said.

Then Justin stood and left, the lock latching behind him.

Jarrett’s eyes were closed. He didn’t register the noise of the door slamming. Tenn crawled over, his muscles screaming nearly as loudly as the hammer of his heart. Please. Please. Please be alive.

Jarrett’s arms were twisted behind his back, his legs bound with rope in front of him, and his hair hung limp over a pale face. Bruises masked his eyes and a gag wrapped around his mouth. Jarrett was still. So, so still. Tenn reached out and put a hand to Jarrett’s face, his fingers shaking. Jarrett’s skin was warm. But not nearly warm enough. Tenn gently removed the gag, swept the strands of hair behind Jarrett’s ear. More bruises. Jarrett didn’t move. When his chest rose, Tenn gave a small cry of relief.

“Jarrett,” he whispered. He brushed his forehead, touched his lips. Jarrett remained as still as the dead. “Please,” he whispered. His words were salty with tears. “Please be okay.”

He opened to Earth and tried to heal Jarrett’s wounds.

Tenn gasped.

The force of it hit like a blow to the gut. The moment he pressed the magic to Jarrett’s body, something took hold. A hunger so great, a void so vast, Tenn felt himself nearly swallowed by the pull. Earth screamed. He fell back, stared at his hands as though burned. Then he looked at Jarrett. Really looked.

The sallow skin, the bruises that had nothing to do with being beaten. Jarrett hadn’t been attacked. His Earth Sphere had been tapped.

Tenn’s breath caught in his lungs as he stared at the man he had hoped could be everything—home, safety, salvation. The man who was only minutes away from turning into a kraven.

Earth was dying in Jarrett’s pelvis. It had been drained to the point of exhaustion, well past the point of replenishing itself. If it was pulled just a little bit more, it would implode and start the horrific process of turning Jarrett into a Howl. That hunger... That was more than Tenn’s magic could fill.

He stared at Jarrett and felt a horrible vise clench at his heart.

He was going to have to watch Jarrett die.

Again.

The door opened behind him, but he was too stricken to even turn around. The door closed with a click. Tenn could feel the intruder’s presence but wouldn’t look. He couldn’t tear his eyes off Jarrett. He reached out, touched Jarrett’s shoulder. He didn’t let go. Maybe if I just give him a little. If I try.

“This one, he has been such a charming guest. So polite.” Tenn heard her step closer to them. “He’s been waiting so long for you to arrive. Imagine his delight when we heard the wall crumble! We knew who it was, of course. And so, I had him specially prepared for your arrival.”

“You did this to him,” Tenn said. The vise tightened, but a new emotion tinged his hopelessness: rage.

“In a sense,” Leanna said. “My necromancers have been practicing for ages to perfect it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to pause the draining process right on the tip of conversion? Even the tiniest amount too much, and he would be nothing but a mindless kraven right now.” The swish of fabric, and he saw her kneeling beside him from the corner of his eye. “You should be honored. I did all of this for you.”

Tenn’s gut churned. He spared her a glance.

“Why?” The word sounded so small. But in the face of this, he didn’t feel strong. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought he could save anyone.

“Because,” she said, “you are special. And I had to make sure you were the one before continuing.”

“What?”

She placed something in his free hand. It was warm and heavy, and it seemed to press against his heart like oil. He glanced down. It was a stone, smooth and black, inscribed with tiny marks that caught the light like quicksilver. Just looking at the marks sent whispers through his thoughts, the Dark Lady echoing in the void: be mine, be mine.

Tenn tried to let go but she clenched his fingers around it. He felt bones grind.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” she asked. “You’ve seen this before.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away from Jarrett as a slow realization dawned. It took everything he had to push the thought away.

“But I would bet there’s something you don’t know,” she said. She turned his face to hers with her free hand.

Before he could ask what the hell she was talking about, she opened to Earth again.

He saw and felt her filter energy into the stone clasped in their hands. But that was it. The runes didn’t glow. The stone didn’t shiver with energy. She closed off to Earth and let go of his hand, settling back on her heels.

“As you see,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness, “although those are the words of the Dark Lady, one must be fully alive to use them.” She glanced out the window. “The runes won’t activate for the Kin, even though we wield the Spheres like any of our...minions.” She nearly spat the word. “It’s the only reason we put up with those idiots in the first place.”

The implications made Tenn’s head spin: the Kin couldn’t use runes. That’s why they needed living necromancers to turn the Howls. He had thought the Kin were all-powerful. But why the hell is she telling me this?

Leanna looked back to him, and there was something in her eyes that made him wonder if she could read his thoughts.

“That is where you come in.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t understand. Yes, I’m well aware.” She gestured to the stone. “Why do you think there are only six Kin? Why do you think we’ve settled for creating lesser Howls since the Dark Lady died?”

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