by Frank Morin
That blow should have left her shaken for a long time, but the effects were already draining away under the power of her enhancement. She leaned against the wall and stared across the training room, out the wall-length windows overlooking the pool. That fight had been exactly what she’d needed.
Well, all but the punch in the face.
She loved the training room in Quentin’s mansion, preferring it to the larger facility at Suntara. She trained every morning with one of her teachers before heading for the headquarters. Quentin had insisted on hosting them all at his home as long as they stayed in Rome. Sarah hadn’t argued. Quentin was an excellent host.
They also had plenty of privacy. Although Quentin’s staff was quite large and there were always several enforcers on guard duty, it usually felt like they had the place to themselves. Dozens more people could have stayed there and not felt crowded.
Sarah enjoyed feeling like she was finally starting to get a handle on fighting. Tomas and Alter had worked out a compromise approach to training her, focusing on the fundamentals of how to bring the pain to enemies before they could do violence to Sarah.
The brutality of the training might have turned her off to the whole idea had she not just survived the life-and-death struggle against Mai Luan. That conflict taught Sarah that there were enemies out there intent on killing. So she learned to drive a finger or blunt object into someone’s eye. She learned how easy it was to rupture an ear drum or a crush a windpipe or shatter a joint.
She was good at it.
Her rune helped. Both Alter and Tomas commented that she picked up the techniques fast. Her rune increased her speed and reflexes, and she blamed it for her ready willingness to hurt someone when she needed to. Additionally, her training helped ease her fears, calm the nightmares that plagued her sleep ever since the showdown with Mai Luan. She might not be an enforcer or a hunter, but she vowed never again to be a victim.
After resting for a moment, Sarah said, “I need that rune inscribed, Alter.”
His contented smile faded. “Sarah…”
She pulled out of her pocket a folding knife Tomas had gifted to her. “Just do it, Alter.”
“Not with that.”
He retrieved his leather satchel and extracted a beautifully carved wooden box, about the size of her outstretched hands. It was fashioned from dark wood, polished to a bright shine. Every side was carved with runes, only some of which she recognized.
“What’s that?” she asked, intrigued.
Alter opened the box, revealing a set of fine-pointed knives with carved handles. “This is my runesmith kit.”
Sarah touched the lid and it thrummed against her finger. “There’s active power here.”
He nodded. “Fueled by my soul, linked by my rounon. The box protects the contents and preserves the knives.”
“Wow.” Sarah hadn’t realized such a thing was possible.
“I haven’t used it much since coming here,” he admitted. “These knives are used for personalized runes and for higher-level rounon activities.”
“Like what?”
“Like making your rune permanent.” He extracted a short, double-edged knife with a simple handle carved with the Egyptian ankh symbol of life.
Sarah was wearing a halter-top that left her shoulders bare. She looked at herself in the wall-length mirrors. Her exposed left shoulder blade still wore the fading mark of her temporary rune. When he first drew it, she’d felt a rush of strength and agility. As the rune faded, the effects had waned too. He had needed to redraw it every few days, and every time he did, he’d renewed those effects.
“I can’t wait to make it permanent.” This was her rune, personalized and discovered by her in the hectic days leading up to the confrontation with Mai Luan. It had helped save her life, and she yearned to have it sealed to her forever.
Alter hesitated. “There’s usually more to the first rune ceremony.”
He had annoyed all the others with his long-winded monologue prior to marking the temporary rune, but she hadn’t minded.
She gripped his hand. “It’s all right, Alter. I think you covered it pretty well. The others are gone, so there’s really no point.”
“You recognize the importance of what you’re doing?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“I do.”
“And you swear to use your enhancements to battle the forces of evil and protect the innocent?”
“Alter, I’m not joining a superhero league. I’m fighting heka.”
“Fine.” He looked frustrated that she didn’t let him turn the moment into another major ceremony. “Don’t move.”
Sarah stiffened as he lifted the knife to her skin, forcing herself to watch in the mirror as he started cutting. Alter moved with quick, sure strokes. The tip of his knife sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of red in its wake.
She barely felt anything.
The blade had to be as sharp as a scalpel, and he wielded it with incredible precision. He completed the shallow cuts of the rune in under ten seconds, finishing with a flourish. As he stepped back to admire his work, a deep warmth radiated from the rune. The crimson lines glowed with a soft blue light.
Alter grinned. “It’s looking good. It usually takes several hours for a rune to completely bond--”
The rune flared to brilliant white. Sarah had to turn away from the mirror and shield her eyes. The radiating warmth intensified, and she gasped from the power of it. Every muscle quivered with rippling energy, and lingering aches from the recent punch in the jaw evaporated.
She glanced back in the mirror. The light had already faded. The new rune glowed like silver on her skin. Alter approached and touched it with a hesitant finger, his expression surprised.
“I guess it worked,” she said.
“Too fast,” he muttered.
“Well, I’ve had the temporary rune for a long time.”
“That shouldn’t make a difference. This rune is already tightly bonded to your soul. It’s fully powered.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” She felt wonderful, stronger than ever.
Alter paced away, and when he turned he was almost glaring. “Who are you, Sarah?”
“You can’t ask me that and say my name in the same sentence,” she teased.
“Don’t play games. Each new rune for a person bonds more quickly than the last, as long as a soul has the vitality to power it, but the first rune always takes longer.”
“You’re the runesmith.” Sarah didn’t care why it worked. She was loving the effects. She felt like she could run all day.
“But what are you?” he asked softly.
“Is this going to be one of those Mr. Miyagi moments?”
“Who?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Really? You don’t know Karate Kid? It’s a classic. You’ve got to see it.”
“Are you asking me on a date to see a movie?” Alter asked, his tone joking, but his expression eager.
“You wish.”
He really did. If Tomas hadn’t already been in her life, she probably would have agreed to go out with him.
“I wish I knew how you do it,” Alter said. “You pick up runes better than most hunters. You design a higher-level rune on your first attempt, and it bonds in seconds.”
“If you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” Sarah teased. “But that movie’s been out of the theaters for years.”
He allowed a hint of a smile, but persisted. “It’s not in your blood, but there’s got to be something.”
“What do you mean, it’s not in my blood?” Her family might not be a thousand centuries old like his, and her parents had driven her away with their ridiculous expectations of a meaningless life, but that didn’t give him the right to disparage them.
“Only one family line has ever demonstrated this level of natural rune talent, and then only rarely.”
“Well, maybe I’m connected somehow.”
“No. I wondered about it and had my family ch
eck.”
“Check what?”
“Your genealogy.”
That was a surprise. “Really? I barely know my grandparents.”
Alter shrugged. “We have connections to extensive databases.”
“And they’d spend time doing that kind of research for you?”
“It’s important, Sarah.”
She didn’t see why. “Well, what did you find?”
“Not as much as we should have,” he said with a little frown. “The family archivists tracked several of your lines all the way back to the Middle Ages, but a surprising number of your lines have been lost.”
“Lost how?”
“The records just don’t exist,” he said. “We were focused on Europe, and they usually kept good records. The biggest danger was always fire, and fires seemed to happen a lot to your family lines.”
Sarah shrugged. “I’m sure everyone’s history runs through times like those. Think of all the wars and disasters that could wreck a church.”
“It’s true, there’s a certain percentage of loss expected, but usually we can work around those, tie different lines from different towns back to common ancestors, that sort of thing. In your case, the number of broken lines was so extensive, there are gaps our genealogists haven’t been able to fill yet. We can’t be sure if there are any connections with that family tree.”
“Whose family?”
“Joan of Arc.”
Sarah laughed, but realized he was not joking. “The Joan of Arc?”
Alter nodded. “She had a singular gift. That was why she was so successful in battle and why they really killed her.”
“So when you mentioned rare rounon powers before, you were talking about her?”
He nodded. “She was one of the incredibly rare individuals we call rune warriors.”
“Rune warrior,” Sarah repeated slowly, loving how the words rolled off her tongue. Just like runes felt right at a fundamental level, the title called to her. “What does that mean?”
“It means she could do things none of the rest of us could. I thought maybe you might be connected. It would explain your innate understanding of runes.”
“But you can’t tell for sure with my genealogy so messed up?”
“There are other ways,” he said softly, not looking her in the eye.
“What ways?” she pressed, eager to learn more. “Tell me about it, Alter.”
“I don’t want to encourage you,” Alter said. “You already push the limits so far beyond what’s safe, it’s a miracle you haven’t killed yourself.”
“Sometimes you act like a grumpy old man,” Sarah chided. “Come on, Alter. You can’t mention something like that and not tell me more. It’s cruel.”
She placed a hand on his arm, pleading.
Alter glanced up to meet her gaze, then sighed. “Fine, but it’s kind of a long discussion. We can talk about it at dinner.”
“That’s a good idea.” They often shared meals while discussing runes. It was a good use of time.
Talk of rare rune powers stirred her appetite for learning, and fueled her desire to complete her new rune. She’d work on it through the afternoon.
“Wait,” Alter said as she rose.
He cleaned the little rune knife using a crimson-colored cloth from his rune kit box. He replaced the knife, his movement reverent, then carefully closed the lid. When he rose, he extended the box to her.
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked.
“I wish you to have this.”
“Why? I’m not a hunter or a kashaph.”
Alter grimaced, as if imagining one of the abominable cultists getting their hands on his precious rune kit. “Please, Sarah. This is a gift I’m making freely. It’s important.”
“Then you shouldn’t waste it on me.”
“I have my reasons, and I want you to have it.”
Sarah should refuse, but he looked so earnest, she couldn’t. She reached out to take it, but he pressed her hand to the lid. The wood glowed under the contact and the runes carved into it radiated warmth into her skin.
“What’s happening?” she asked softly.
“I’m transferring it to you,” Alter said, his head bowed in concentration. “I’m attuning the runes to your soul. They’ll preserve this kit for you.”
“But I don’t have a rounon gift,” she protested.
“I’m facilitating the transfer,” Alter said. Then he frowned. “It is done.”
“Then why do you look like you just swallowed a bug?”
“It happened too easily. I’ve never transferred something like this, so it should have been difficult. I was prepared for that, but the transfer went too smoothly, almost as fast as if I was transferring it to another hunter.”
“Well you did just inscribe a rune for me,” Sarah pointed out. “We’re already linked.”
He frowned again. “Perhaps.”
“Don’t look so bummed,” Sarah said, her tone light. “I didn’t force you to give it to me.”
“It’s not that, really.”
“Then let it go,” Sarah said. “No one likes an Indian giver.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t regret being generous,” she said, holding the box close. “And thank you, Alter. I can see how important this is to you.”
“Since it bonded so well, keep it open on your desk while you study runes,” Alter added. “The enhancements worked into it will facilitate quicker learning and improve memory of rune lore.”
“Wow, really?” That was awesome.
“This box has been in my family for twenty-five generations,” Alter said. “Some of the best runesmiths of all time have worked on that sequencing.”
Sarah looked at the beautiful box with new wonder. “Alter, this is a precious heirloom. You can’t give it to me.”
He pulled his hands behind his back. “It’s done, Sarah. It cannot be undone.”
The depth of his generosity moved her. Alter wasn’t subtle, and he’d been attracted to her since the day they met, but he’d never tried winning her with gifts before. Tomas had given her a gun. She’d been thrilled, but maybe she needed to encourage him to try a little harder.
She didn’t want to encourage Alter, but she couldn’t receive such a wondrous gift without giving Alter a little kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, and she meant it.
His cheeks flushed, and she retreated. “I’ll see you later, Alter.”
Sarah threw herself into her rune studies, and the hours quickly fled until dinner time. Eager to learn more about rune warriors, she headed for the art gallery dining room.
Chapter Fifteen
Baking is an under-appreciated secret weapon. If I wanted to conquer the world, I’d use pastries. In a single lifetime, I’d be hailed queen of the world by a fat and happy populace. I can think of worse futures.
~Harriett
When Sarah arrived in the beautiful art gallery dining room on the main floor of the mansion, Alter was already waiting. The room served as the team’s unofficial meeting hub, and Sarah had expected to find the group gathering for another dinner.
Alter was alone. He’d discarded his normal hunter tactical clothing for navy slacks and a matching dress shirt. He looked great. The end of the table, which could have seated twenty, was set for only two, complete with candelabra. She couldn’t imagine how he’d arranged the private dinner, but he was clearly planning for more than another working meal.
Alter helped her with her chair. “You look lovely, Sarah.”
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
She’d worn a dark skirt and a cream-colored blouse. Her thick hair hung loose below her shoulders. She was glad she hadn’t dressed down like she’d been tempted to. She didn’t want to encourage his interest, but he’d invested enough effort into the dinner that she decided to enjoy it.
Alter sat across from her as the first course of Greek salads were served. His gaze was in
tense, but Sarah didn’t give him time to make the meal uncomfortable.
“I know so little about your family, Alter. Tell me about them.”
“You already know what’s important.”
Sarah shook her head. “Not exactly. Did you know, you’ve never once mentioned your mother?”
She had realized it just that afternoon. His father and brother were such important parts of his life, but she knew so little about the rest of his family.
“My mother was special,” Alter said, glancing down at his plate, his voice soft.
“Was?” Sarah wished she’d picked a different topic.
“She died saving my life.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was the heart of our clan as much as my father was the head. She was a brilliant strategist, and led the women’s infiltration corps.”
“What’s that?”
“Her core mission was gathering intel and infiltrating suspected kashaph cells. She helped orchestrate some of the most important strikes of the century.”
“Why haven’t you told me about her before?” Sarah asked. “She sounds incredible.”
“She was,” he said with a soft smile. “We cherish her memory, so I don’t speak of her around the demons.”
“Please stop calling them that,” Sarah said. “You’ll never get over your family’s bias with the constant name calling.”
“You’re assuming the bias is wrong,” he responded.
“What do you think your mother would have thought of you working here with the facetakers?”
He considered the question. “She would have supported the need to remove the Cui Dashi, but she would not have wanted me to linger as long as I have.”
“You’ve had good reason.”
Alter leaned forward. “She always told me to keep my heart pure, and I’d always know what to do.”
“Sounds like good advice.”
“Except remaining in the company of the dem…the facetakers, is slowly drawing me away from the purity of my family mission.”
“I don’t see it that way,” Sarah said, hoping he was finally in a position to listen to reason. “You’re assuming your family’s hatred of facetakers is the right thing.”
“And you’re deluding yourself that it’s not,” he shot back.
