Page 75 of Runes To Rain
The second I enter the carriage, Reem says, “You can’t bring the sword. First?—”
Before he can get any further, Dio, who apparently I’m sitting beside, says, “Come on, Reem, clearly we have a few fans out there who are taking their obsession to a dangerous level.It’s probably a good thing for one of us to be able to do something about it.”
I’m stunned to hear Dio defending me. So stunned that I miss Reem’s response.
Because of that, I’m not sure what exactly prompts Dio to say, “Well, I’ve seen her and she’s skilled with that sword.”
That seems to cut off any further argument. Reem looks angry, but he remains silent.
The carriage ride is mostly silent and certainly awkward, with Reem avoiding Dio and occasionally glaring at me.
Since there are three of us sitting on this seat, I can’t move far enough away to not press against Dio. My heart pounds and I feel like I can barely breathe. His body is tense against mine as though he is trying to stay as far away as he can as well.
My hip and arm, where they rest against him, feel unusually warm, a fact I carefully avoid thinking about.
I can also feel him flinching anytime we go over a bump.
After a couple of hours pass, and yet again his breath catches as the carriage bounces slightly. I take a chance and ask quietly, “Are you sure you’re up to this?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
For a few moments, he doesn’t respond, and I’m wondering if he’s going to avoid answering or if he even heard me. Then, finally, he says quietly, “I won’t let the others down. I’ve dealt with worse.”
I grit my teeth and my hands clench into fists, crumpling the cloth of my skirt.
My heart threatens to stop as Dio’s hand appears in my field of vision and he gently wraps his fingers over one of my clenched fists.
“It’ll be fine,” he says so quietly that I wonder if he even meant to say it. He sets his hand back in his lap, and I fight to return my breath to normal.
It’s not fine, though. It’s torture feeling the evidence of his pain for the remaining hours it takes for us to get to our destination.
Eventually, the carriage stops, and I jump out as quickly as I can to put some space between us. As I move away from the carriages, though, I realize I don’t know where we are going. I pause, turning back to the group.
I wait, emotions swirling, until Lent walks up to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. He is in high spirits even for him. “This is when the real adventure begins, Shorty,” he says and pulls me along toward an alley.
I tense slightly as we move into the darker, more enclosed space, but Lent confidently leads me to a staircase and down through a small door that is painted red. In my periphery, I see the others following. Reem is almost directly behind us, and Dio is moving more slowly behind him with Fem walking at his side.
As we move through the door, a bell chimes, and I look around in wonder. I have never seen anything like this. Various small bundles of dried reeds and the stalks of some plants hang from the ceiling. There are small glass bottles containing different colored liquids on nearlyevery surface. Stacks of cards, leather-bound books, and small wooden boxes with neat labels are everywhere.
As I’m looking around, Lent releases my shoulders and walks over to one of the shelves to look through the various glass bottles. Behind the counter stands a gnarled little old man with only one eye, the empty socket horribly scarred. Behind him, hanging on the wall, are various small knives. There are many different sizes and shapes. A sign that hangs over them says,Blood Magic Instruments. As I look at them, one stands out, somehow looking familiar. I note it, but stay back, curious why the boys are here.
My question is answered quickly as Reem walks through the door behind me and moves to the counter. To the small man, he says, “I’m the one who called earlier, I’m here to pick up the stone we talked about.”
“Sure, of course,” the little man grumbles, as he begins to dig in his pockets for something. “I did tell you it’s unlikely the stone is genuine, right?” he asks, squinting his one eye and leaning towards Reem.
“Yes, you mentioned that,” Reem says dryly.
As I watch the interaction, Dio, whom I suddenly realize is standing near me, says, “Several times in fact if what Reem told us is true.”
His voice is pitched low, his words quiet and clearly just for me. The familiarity of the action makes my chest ache. I press the emotions down again as I struggle to breathe with the sudden tightness in my chest. I run the thumb of my hand over the place where he laid his hand on mine in the carriage. It still feels warm, as though I can feel the ghost of his touch.
As I try to focus on anything other than Dio, the little man produces a key from his pocket. Bending slowly, he leans over and opens a locked compartment. When he rises, he puts a small object wrapped in some type of fabric on the counter and looks expectantly at Reem.
Reem steps forward and carefully unwraps what turns out to be a small, normal-looking black stone with a hole in it.
I can’t help myself and step closer. As I look at the stone, I feel another piece of the map fill in, and while I’m blind to where that path leads, the message is clear. This stone is important to the overall journey.
Reeling slightly at the sheer weight of this message, I watch as Fem steps forward, looks at the stone, and scoffs. “No way that’s genuine,” he says.
I take a step back and watch the interaction silently, unsure if I should say anything about the feeling I just had. There is such a lengthy history of them not believing me, and this seems like a stretch.
