Rune Awakening

by Genevra Black

  He didn’t have to look for very long.

  “There.” Satara pointed at a nearby bush, which was shivering curiously. Her eyes lit up as a bit of gray light caught the metal tip of a spear. “It’s Astrid’s!”

  Edie looked between her and Cal and motioned for them to stay quiet as they approached the totally inconspicuous, spear-wielding bush. Who was in there, anyway? Who could possibly have gotten the spear and shield from the bottom of the ocean? There was really only one answer that made sense.

  “You can come out,” Edie promised, trying to keep her voice friendly. “We won’t hurt you. You just … startled my friend.”

  After a moment, the spear dropped to the ground, though the shield was still out of sight—if he had it. Satara bent and picked it up, looking pleased at the show of good faith. But her expression quickly turned from pleased to disgusted when, as she pulled her hand from the shaft of the spear, it came away slimy.

  Finally, the creature crept from the bush. Edie recognized him just from the shape, even though he was crouched: large, with broad shoulders and eyes blacker than the night around them. When he stepped into the gloomy light, she could see he was clutching the shield to his middle, webbed fingers drumming anxiously along the ancient wood.

  Fish Guy offered a sharp-toothed, almost sheepish grin.

  Edie’s shoulders sank. She saw it, but she could barely believe it. “Uh … hello again.”

  Cal stepped forward. “What’s your deal, sneaking up on a guy while he’s … vulnerable?” he demanded.

  In turn, Fish Guy straightened to his full height, towering over all three of them; just when Edie was sure he was tall enough, there seemed to be more of him. He puffed up his chest and jabbed a clawed finger at Cal, looking down at him like a god about to smite a disobedient acolyte. It probably would have been more threatening had he not been naked and dripping sea water. “Again-walker, I am centuries your elder. I will not hesitate to tear your impudent flesh from the bone!”

  Cal sneered. “You’re welcome to try, if you want new lead fillings.”

  “Guys! Come on.” Edie gave Cal a reproachful look before turning her attention back to the fish guy. “Who … what … are you? Why did you bring us the shield and spear?”

  He could have easily just left them sitting at the bottom of the ocean to be swallowed up by silt, or brought them to whatever hovel he called home and kept them as souvenirs. He’d had to go out of his way to find them, climb out of the ocean, and deliver them to a group of people who had already inconvenienced him once—or, at least, gotten him in trouble with a sea spirit sorceress.

  The fish creature lowered his arm and hunched again, clutching the shield tight. He looked at Edie. “I am sjóvættr, of course.” His tone was much too dignified for someone whose breath smelled like low tide.

  “A sea spirit?” Edie crossed her arms and clenched her jaw to keep from shivering. He didn’t look like much of a sea spirit to her; he was sort of slimy and gross. Tiralda had been different, ethereal with the power and energy coming off her. “What’s your name?”

  The spines running up his back bristled, and he opened his mouth to answer her, but what came out was a series of ugly, guttural sounds and hisses that sounded more like someone choking than an actual language. It went on for a while, too—long enough that Edie could have introduced not only herself, but Cal and Satara, too.

  When he was done, he asked politely, “And what are you called?”

  She shared a glance with Cal and Satara, then looked back at Fish Guy. “Wait, back up one second. What was that?”

  He began to repeat the sound, but Cal cut him off: “We don’t speak fish, Jabberjaw!”

  “Do you perhaps have a ... shorter name, one we mortals can pronounce, scale-friend?” Satara asked in a friendly tone, standing tall.

  The fish man seemed to respond favorably. At least one of them knew how to talk to mythical beings. He perked up and smiled at Satara. “Hm. Well ... in times past, mortals have called me Fiskbein.”

  “Fiskbein? Very well.”

  “Fiskbein it is,” Edie said, looking him over. He was totally naked, but also totally flat down there—a small mercy. “I never got to thank you for saving me.”

  “Yes ... she chased me away.” Fiskbein bared sharp teeth. “The sea witch will tell you I’m a creature. She lies! I am vættr, like her.”

  Edie had the feeling she wasn’t getting the whole picture. After meeting her, Edie wasn’t Tiralda’s biggest fan, but surely there must be a good reason she hated the other sea spirit so much. Was he dangerous? “Why does she treat you like a creature, then?”

  “Her kind deny spirits like me, their own brethren, the right to reach our full potential. They are wicked, wicked, vain beings!” His voice became deeper in anger; the flanging intensified, vocals frying. “They fear our ugly bodies and the magnitude of our power. That’s why you must let me come with you! Their selfishness must be punished. If I could only develop my magic....”

  Satara dug the base of her spear into the dirt and leaned on it, brows knit. “You expect us to take you on so you can, what, have your revenge? We have a mission of our own, Fiskbein. It has nothing to do with dismantling vættr hierarchy.”

  “But I could do whatever you wanted!” insisted the spirit.

  Edie snorted. And here she had been thinking he was some sort of all-powerful lord of the ocean based on the way he’d spoken to them, calling them “mortals” and threatening them. She shook her head.

  Cal cut in. “So, basically, you’re a sea spirit just like Tiralda, but shittier? Listen, buddy, we were sent to pick up a witch, not some bottom-feeder.” He reached into his back pocket and drew out a cigarette, then lit it.

  Edie thought about scolding him, seeing as how they were in the middle of the forest, but she didn’t want to derail the conversation. Smokey the Bear would be so disgusted with me.

  Fiskbein’s fingers tightened on the dented iron rim of Astrid’s shield. “You owe me a life debt, twice-fold, and I’ve brought you the weapons you foolishly lost,” he said, voice rising in volume. “Will you truly insult me and then turn me away?”

  Edie had to admit, she felt bad about it. She was absolutely certain she would have died without his help. She looked at Satara and noticed that she, too, looked conflicted; her shoulders were limp, her eyes roving over Fisk in thought.

  The spirit tucked Astrid’s shield under one arm, baring his teeth again. “If you leave without me, you leave without the shield.”

  He didn’t look as intimidating as his words sounded, though. His gills drooped, his back hunched. He looked starved and unkempt, and desperate. Edie had a feeling that if one of them pressed him hard enough, he’d give up the shield anyway and high-tail it back to the ocean. So much for tearing the flesh from their bones.

  Edie looked to the others. Cal stood with his arms crossed, a disapproving glare stuck on his face.

  Satara looked concerned, but more open. She sighed, gripping her spear tighter. “I ... suppose you can come back with us. But,” she added before he could start celebrating, “if Astrid says you have to return, you must to do what she says.”

  Fiskbein’s gills flared, this time in delight, and he flashed them all a frightening grin. “You won’t regret this, mortals. Tiralda, tear her scales, will be sorry she broke her oath to you. I am twice the sorcerer she is.”

  Edie sighed and followed Satara as she started back to the car. “Oh, yeah? Do you do seidr, too?”

  The hulking spirit—it felt strange to think of him as a spirit, since he was very clearly corporeal—trudged along beside her, gait uneven and galumphing on land. “No, no. Freyja’s Craft is of no use to most water elementals. We favor her father.”

  “Her father?” Edie looked to Satara for help.

  “Njord,” Satara said. “God of the sea.”

  Fiskbein perked up a bit. He seemed surprised Edie had to ask, but said nothing.

  “So, you can control waves
and water and stuff like that?”

  He paused before clearing his throat. “Potentially.”

  Okay, she got the feeling he wasn’t as powerful as he’d advertised. “Right. Potentially.”

  He grinned sheepishly and changed the subject. “You never told me what you call yourselves.”

  “I’m Edie Holloway”—she was relieved to see he didn’t recognize the name—“and that’s Cal, and Satara.”

  Satara glanced back as they reached Ghost and nodded.

  Cal wasn’t as cordial. “Fuckin’ terrific, someone else I gotta babysit,” he muttered around his cigarette, sliding into the front seat and jerking a thumb back. “Edie, since it was your brilliant idea to go fishin’, you get to sit in the back with him.”

  Edie groaned, but she didn’t have the energy to fight him. She was exhausted from a near-death experience, she was shivering cold in her stiff, still-wet clothing, and she was voraciously hungry. “Fine,” she mumbled, moving to climb into the back seat.

  With great force, the trunk popped, and the headlights flickered on and off.

  “Oh, yeah,” Cal added, reaching out the window and ashing his cigarette on the gravel. “Lay the tarp down before you get in. I got a blanket in the back, too. I don’t wanna have to reupholster the entire goddamn interior ’cause of your wet asses.”

  Edie rolled her eyes and slid out of the car again, going to retrieve the stuff from the trunk. The tarp smelled suspiciously tangy and had some stains on it that she tried not to think about as she tossed it in the back seat. She handed the blanket to Satara, who covered her own seat with it. She adjusted the passenger seat forward so Edie could squeeze in, then Fiskbein, once Ghost’s protective barrier was laid out.

  Cal kept the top up as they pulled out of the campground. Probably a good idea if they wanted to keep a low profile. The group called enough attention to themselves as it was.

  Unfortunately, the enclosed space trapped the briny odor of their new companion. Edie’s stomach stopped growling and started turning instead.

  Despite Cal’s protestations, Fiskbein stroked the interior of the car. “This is peculiar. Do you live in here?” He turned to look at Edie, blinking.

  “Uh, no. I live in an apartment.”

  Cal stopped the car for a moment. Edie looked past Fiskbein, watching as Satara got out and pushed open the gate blocking their path. Once she was back in, they were back on the road and headed out.

  “How far is it?” Fiskbein asked, gazing out the window.

  “Three or four hours from here,” Edie replied.

  Everyone in the car was silent for a while; Cal played the radio quietly, and one of the humans would cough every so often from the intense stench in the cab.

  They were probably about fifteen minutes into the drive when Fiskbein asked, “How far is it now?”

  Edie and Cal exchanged a look in the rearview mirror. It was going to be another long night.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Edie bit into her second Big Mac and watched Fiskbein levitate the ice out of her soda. With the windows down, the smell in the car had finally dissipated enough for her appetite to come back in full force, so they’d stopped by a McDonald’s and ordered two Big Mac meals, a Filet-O-Fish for Fiskbein, and water for Satara. She and Edie had been sharing fries and watching the sea spirit’s tricks ever since they’d pulled back onto the highway.

  They were on the last leg of their trip, with nothing better to do. It seemed like they had already exhausted possible topics of conversation, and Cal had put a ban on road games after a round of I Went on a Picnic ended with Fiskbein using the runic alphabet instead of the English one.

  “So,” Edie said, “you can only manipulate liquid that already exists? You can’t just poof water out of thin air?” She glanced down as an out-of-control ice cube bounced out of the floating collection Fiskbein had amassed and hit her thigh, then took another bite of her burger.

  “Mmm … well….”

  “Let me guess,” said Cal, “you can do it, you just don’t wanna.”

  Edie couldn’t help but snort a little. Whenever they questioned him about his magic, he’d change the subject, or make excuses as to why he couldn’t show off his all-powerful abilities.

  He bared his pointy teeth at Cal. “My powers are not a toy that I can simply summon for mortals’ amusement.”

  Edie whacked his arm lightly. He was drier now than he had been—almost like a snake. “You know, you don’t have to act like a dick and lie about your powers. I’m still learning, too.” She took another bite of her burger, then said around it, “I’ve never even cast a real offensive spell before.”

  Fisk looked at her quizzically as he compacted his collection of ice cubes into one big, misshapen ball of watery ice. “How can that be?”

  “How can what be?”

  “The sea witch talked about you like you were someone important. I was listening. And your companions answer to you with deference.”

  Edie squirmed uncomfortably, but before she could protest, Cal piped up: “Hell no we don’t.”

  Satara looked like she had tasted something bad, but she mumbled, “Edie’s father was a leader in our community, once.”

  Dammit. As soon as Satara mentioned Dad, Edie became almost as tense as Cal did.

  “Our faction is called the Reach,” she continued as she unwrapped a granola bar. “Perhaps you’ve never heard of it, but it used to be huge.”

  “We tend to keep to the waters. We have no business on land. But….” Fiskbein squinted. “I think I remember something of that nature, back when we baseborn”—he spat the word—“were still allowed in the E’ularu and the cities. I think I remember some of the wellborn in disputes about something like that. Feuding on land.”

  There would be time to ask him about the ins and outs of sjóvættir society; for now, Satara just nodded as though she understood what he was talking about. Edie supposed they had enough information to at least get a vague picture. “Richard Holloway studied the old Reach for years, then sought out others who wanted to restore it. Like Astrid Fengrave, my battlemother. It’s a noble cause. The Gloaming and Aurora have gone unchecked for too long.”

  “Yeah, so noble. Dick Holloway, what an upstanding fuckin’ citizen,” Cal said, his voice dripping with venom. “What would we all have done without him?”

  Edie felt an almost painful surge of anger coming down the line of their mental connection. The comment effectively ended Fiskbein’s brief history lesson. Satara studied Cal but said nothing. Edie looked away, out the window.

  There was a period of silence before she remembered something—something Tiralda had said. At the time, it hadn’t seemed important, considering Edie had almost just drowned.

  “Tiralda said something about Astrid ‘grooming’ me to be the Reacher.” It didn’t feel like Astrid was grooming her to be anything; so far, all Edie had done was run an errand for her and nearly get killed in the process. “What is that?”

  Satara’s gaze was controlled as she turned it on Edie, but frustration simmered just under the surface. “Astrid didn’t tell you?”

  “No?”

  Satara glanced at Cal before taking a breath. “The leader of the Reach.”

  Cal, holding a beer, watched from the couch as Edie wrote SALT!!! on the grocery list stuck to her fridge. With her hair down from its usual spiky bun, with her exhausted face, piercing eyes, and pasty skin, she looked so much like her father.

  Too much.

  Whenever she looked at him, he had to remind himself that this was different—had to be. There was too much at stake for him to run away again.

  But he would if it came down to it. He was sure of that.

  He exhaled hard through his nose—such as it was—as she padded through the kitchen to the couch and sat down next to him. Relaxing a little, he sat back and gestured to the empty hamster cage on the coffee table. “So, you gonna get rid of that, or is it a piece of modern art now?”

 
; Edie sighed, sweeping her hair over one shoulder. She looked a lot more comfortable now that she was in dry clothes. “I’ll take care of it eventually. If you haven’t noticed, I have a lot on my plate at the moment.” She leaned forward to peep beyond the kitchen, toward the bathroom door. “Is everything okay in there?”

  There was a soft trilling, then Fiskbein called, “Thank you for the salt, human!”

  “You know table salt isn’t the same thing as sea salt, right?” Cal asked under his breath, raising a brow in her direction before taking a long swig of beer.

  “Yeah, I know. It’ll have to do for now, though. Maybe Astrid can afford to buy buckets of aquarium salt, but I can’t.”

  Satara had wanted to skip Edie’s place altogether, but the kid looked like she might fall over dead if she went another night without sleep. And Fiskbein had complained the whole last half hour of the trip that he felt sick and needed water.

  Satara hadn’t been too pleased with their change of plans, but she’d conceded and gone to find somewhere in town she could rest. Poor gal. Edie seemed totally oblivious to why Satara wasn’t fond of her, of course, and had been wondering aloud about it for a while now.

  It seemed obvious to Cal. But he’d let her figure it out.

  Edie dragged her hands down her face, sighing hard. “I’m going to crash soon. I’m so freaking exhausted.”

  “What’re you gonna do with Barnacle Boy?” Cal jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom.

  He could tell it was a good question because of how miserable she looked when he asked it. “Well … Mercy is probably at Drake’s house or working, but she’ll have to come home eventually, and Fisk”—she’d given the thing a nickname?—“definitely has to clear out of the tub by then.” Edie’s face crinkled in deep thought for a few seconds, then went slack with exhaustion when she gave up. “Astrid will have a better idea of what to do. But for tonight, I guess he can just hide in my room if Mercy comes home.”