Page 34 of Runes To Rain
I meet his eyes and nod. “I won’t tell anyone,” I say, my voice still slightly raspy with disuse from the past couple of days.
He nods once and then departs the carriage, and I follow him.
When I look up and see the steps to the familiar front door, though, my feet freeze for a moment. As I look at the door to my home, I’m not quite able to move towards it. It feels like a lifetime ago I was last here, and while I knew this was our destination, seeing it feels different.
Malam stops and turns to face me. Then, to my surprise, he steps closer to me and wraps his arms around me, holding me gently for a breath. After a few moments, he steps back and offers me his hand, “Come with me,” he says.
I take his hand, and he draws me gently but firmly up the steps and through the front door and into the entry hall, where Fem and Lent close in around me. Arms embrace me and voices welcome me home.
“Gentle,” Malam growls quietly.
Suddenly, I feel the energy in the room shift. I detangle myself from the embrace of the boys and glance up just in time to see Malam point at Dio.
“You!” Malam snarls and, grabbing Dio by the upper arm, shoves him through the door into the office.
Stalking after him, he slams the door behind them, and we can hear raised voices.
“Fuck,” Fem says, gnawing on his lip. “I'd better go keep an eye on that and make sure the mansion doesn’t turn into a crime scene.”
I feel a spark of something in my chest, not worry for Dio, of course, maybe concern for Fem? Malam can handle himself, and there is something gratifying about imagining Dio facing an angry demon.
As I consider, Lent says, “Come on,” quietly to me, taking my arm and directing me gently from the room. “Let’s give them some space to work that out.” His voice is calm, but I see the worry on his face as he looks back over his shoulder at the closed door.
He leads me to the room with the floral wall and settles me on a couch. Reem joins us, walking through the door behind Lent. As I sit, Lent takes the linen bag from my shoulder.
“I’ll put this in your room,” he says quietly.
“There’s some food in there,” I say, and have to smile as his face lights up.
“Herfood is in there,” Reem admonishes.
Lent’s face falls.
“I’ll share,” I say to him, “I just ate a massive breakfast.”
Lent brightens up again and pulls the food out carefully, setting the neatly wrapped packages on the table in front of the couch.
Reem ignores him. Moving to stand in front of me, asks, “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Some water would be nice,” I say quietly. “Oh, and my books, they’re under the bed.”
“I’ll get the books for you, andLentwill get you some water,” Reem says. Irritation creeps into his voice as he glares at Lent, who has already begun rifling through the packages of food.
Undeterred, Lent pushes himself up and heads out the door just in front of Reem.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the couch, more than a little glad to be home.
Reem and Lent soon return, and we fall into a companionable quiet with Lent occasionally offering me bits of the food Lily packed. When he asks where I got it, I tell him that Malam gave it to me for the carriage ride in case I was hungry.
I’m happily focused on my book, munching on some small pieces of strongly spiced, crisp bread, when the door behind me opens.
The boys look up, and I turn around to see Fem walking into the room. His shoulders are drawn up and tight, and his face is blank. He looks at me momentarily, and I see strong emotions quarreling on his face. Then he pushes his hands into his pockets and turns sideways, looking away from me. He’s clearly uncomfortable about something, and I look back at my book, giving him space.
Unbidden, Lent and Reem rise and move to stand near him. They begin talking, and I hear the words, “still alive,” before deciding that whatever they’re talking about doesn’t concern me.
Instead, I focus back on my book. The energy in the room slowly shifts as I hear an indistinct conversation behind me. A while later, the door opens and then shuts, and everything is quiet except the sound of footsteps. Then one of the boys moves around the couch to sit, facing me, on the table.
I glance up, away from my book, and see Fem looking at me. He still looks uncomfortable, and he swallows as he searches my face. “Hey,” he says simply, but his voice is tight.
