Second Sight: The Rune Sight Chronicles

by Boyd Craven III

  “Fool, I’m her grandfather. My price for keeping her safe was service. Years pass, and I must admit, I see things much differently than I used to.”

  I coughed, my lungs on fire, and I stared at Zania, the woman who’d I’d saved not once nor twice. I’d taken a hit by a car that would have killed her. How could that have been planned? Or was this just a random chaotic struggle that hoped for the best outcome?

  “None of this makes sense,” I said to her, not voicing the rest aloud.

  “I know, you got all handsy, felt all big brotherly, trying to keep the little girl safe,” she said softly. “Guess what, buttercup? Life mages can alter their bodies, physical looks. We don’t have to age a day if we don’t want to,” she said, turning to look at the hooded figure.

  “What was your sacrifice?” I asked her.

  She grinned and pointed. Her father.

  “Are you ready?” Khrystiana said, walking up, both knives held in front of her.

  I was right. She had both of the blades I’d looked at. The one Vassago had tried to use on me and the one that had been found in the mage who was going to be the librarian.

  “Ready for what?” I asked her.

  “Oh come on, you had to have known you were kept alive for a reason. If I hadn’t had my adopted daughter break your mental block, it would have come off on its own anyway.”

  “You’re after my magic?” I asked her.

  “Ultimately? No, this is just an unusual side benefit,” she said, turning and walking in front of the hooded figure, ripping it off.

  It was Vassago, as I had figured. He was gagged, but other than straining against his restraints and a gag in his mouth, he just looked angry, sweaty and pissed.

  “You upset that your daughter’s been out this entire time? Did you know I even sent her to mage school for the council? No?”

  Vassago shook his head, and a tear ran down his cheek, then she turned to me. “And you… You’ve gotten closer to killing me than anybody in centuries. How did you manage to slip a bullet in past my shields? Was it your accursed runes?”

  “Can’t breathe,” I lied, taking as deep a breath as I could.

  Khrystiana nodded to Zania, who walked over to me and put a finger on my neck. Her cold touch turned warm, and some of the pain in my diaphragm lessened, and I took several gasping breaths before she could break the contact. Immediately, I felt my weight begin to stretch my muscles back out, wearing them down, tearing myself apart.

  “Now, how did you manage it?” Khrystiana said.

  “I can see the futures, I had kept Rose back to use as a surprise. I knew exactly when your shield would falter, where to aim.”

  “That’s a useful skill to have, don’t you think?” She asked, rubbing the blades of both knives together, throwing sparks.

  Rasmussen grunted but was otherwise silent and motionless. Zania on the other hand, had a maniacal gleeful expression, something I’d never seen before. That scared me because I’d been around her, and a lot. I’d never seen this. The woman was unhinged and licking her lips at the anticipated violence. What had the Empress done to break her? Did she have to break her? How did she turn Zania against her father?

  I looked around for anything, my head rotating. I felt my charm necklace, but with my hands pinned to the stake, literally, they were useless, and unless I got to a healer soon they would be no better than lumps. I could feel the weight of my pistols, and I assumed my Gerber was still there, but I knew Zania had the deathless blade. Why would they leave me with my entire loadout minus one item? Then it hit me. They had a reason. Weight. It was holding me down, killing me slowly and there wasn’t a goddamned thing I could do about it.

  “Where’s Rose?” I asked, my breathing difficult again.

  “She abandoned you,” Rasmussen said. “Hopefully the house Fae catch up to her soon. It’ll be fascinating to break her and find out who she was working for before me,” he mused.

  “Before you?” I asked him, the world spinning too fast.

  “I told you, if she threw in with you, she’d be a fierce ally. She must have recognized that she tied her lot to the wrong horse, eh?”

  “Eh,” I said and chuckled, coughing.

  “You know, you could work for me,” Khrystiana said. “I could spare you, have you healed. All you would have to do is bow down to me.”

  “After I killed your sons?” I asked her.

  A stormy look crossed her expression, and she showed her teeth in a soundless snarl, her hair blowing from a sudden gust of wind in the window.

  “Yes, there will be punishment for that, but I think you’ll like their reincarnations.”

  Uh… what?

  Vassago made a screaming sound and Rasmussen moved then; he walked over and pulled the gag made from a tied chunk of cloth out of his mouth.

  “This whole time, you were free?” Vassago asked Zania.

  “This whole time? Who left me down there alone? Who’s responsible for mother’s death? Who’s the one… you already know the answers. I owe you nothing.”

  “Nothing? I’ve been in servitude for a lifetime trying to save you,” he said, the words spitting out of his mouth.

  “That’s what you call this?” Khrystiana asked, pointing with the knives between him and me.

  “It was all I had left,” he told her.

  “No, I think you’ve got more to give,” she said, walking up to him.

  “I really don’t. You’ve ruined it all, you’ve taken everything away from me,” Vassago said, his voice turning more precise and clipped at the end.

  He took a deep breath as Khrystiana stopped in front of him and tried to spit. The Empress wiped her face and looked at him, her head at an angle.

  “Not yet,” she said, then plunged one knife after another into his heart.

  24

  For the man who was nearly impossible to kill, he died quickly. Khrystiana’s eyes rolled back as she held both knives and her body shivered as if deep in the throes of passion. A moan escaped her lips as her head arched to the ceiling. She didn’t let go until the tremors passed and then pulled the knives out of Vassago’s body and wiped them on the rag that had been in his mouth, before turning to me.

  “I’ve never harvested someone’s magic before,” she said, licking her lips sensually.

  “I recommend caution, Empress,” Rasmussen told her, noting the direction she was headed now.

  “You’re afraid I’d be too powerful, too fast?” she asked him without turning.

  I saw Zania’s eyes. They went from her father and back to Khrystiana. The maniacal glee seemed to be gone, replaced with confusion. She’d lost something, but she was still coming to terms with what it was.

  “His ability took decades of practice to master, at a reduced rate. He’s nearly full power now. As we speak, the rest of his mental and magical barriers are crumbling, and it won’t be long till his other abilities manifest.”

  “Abilities?” Zania asked, whipping around to Rasmussen.

  “Yes,” he said softly, and Khrystiana turned to him, an eyebrow raised, then pointed with the knife in a keep talking gesture.

  “His father… you all remember how bloody powerful Patrick Wright was. He had three gifts, his wife had two. When we tested the boy at birth, we know of at least three, with the Sight being the strongest. If you harvest him… It might destroy you.”

  Three types of magic? That was unheard of. I’d never—

  I’d left my sight open a crack, something I’d always done, and I quickly saw things were about to get busy. I ignored everyone else, despite wanting to know this and focused.

  A gate opens, a figure in flames steps out. Khrystiana is caught flat-footed, and in that instant, she is vulnerable. I am helpless to watch—

  “And you’re just telling me this now?” Khrystiana yelled.

  I shook my head as much as I could to clear my thoughts. I’d missed what he had been explaining. Something about conjoining types of magic and…
r />   “Hey,” I said, as loud as I could, and all three heads turned my way.

  “What?” All three of them turned in my direction and chorused the words.

  “No Hakuna’ing the mattattas,” I said with a wry grin as a gate came into being behind them silently, between the bed and the upright I was crucified on.

  “I’ve heard that line before,” Khrystiana said, turning to me, both knives upraised.

  “From me, bitch,” Rose shrieked, and magical glitter exploded, startling everyone as the little Fae set off her distraction.

  “Uggg, the little—”

  “Oh shit,” Rasmussen said suddenly and turned to run.

  A figure in flames stepped through the gate. I don’t mean it was a burning body, but a figure that was coated in living, breathing armor made entirely of fire. It lifted one hand just as Zania and Khrystiana turned to see what had disturbed Rasmussen. He’d had forewarning because he could read minds; I had it because of my sight. Despite the pain and agony, I grinned. I must have looked like a death’s head because when Zania looked back to see if I was still there, she flinched at the sight.

  “Run, little mage,” I said, blood and saliva dripping from split lips. “Death has found you.”

  “No, I—”

  Liquid fire shot out, and Khrystiana put a hand up, her own shield deflecting the flames. It splattered on Zania’s clothing, and she turned and screamed, unaccustomed to the pain, and dropped and rolled. I laughed, throwing my head back, feeling weaker and weaker. I heard a deep guttural voice and the light went out of the room a moment as something large blocked out the sun, then it moved, one massive arm brushing Khrystiana aside as if she was a rag doll.

  It looked like a troll at first glance. Ten feet tall, broad shouldered. Its skin was a mottled purple, yellow eyes. That’s what gave it away from me. She was calling from her bench.

  “Demonic,” I said, probably totally unnecessarily, but it was that or shriek insane laughter as flames licked everything that wasn’t stone, the living flamethrower still hosing the beast and Khrystiana.

  “Boss, we got to get you down,” Rose said, hovering in front of my face.

  “Ropes,” I said, realizing my shenanigans had cost me a lot and I was starting to see spots in front of my eyes, things going dark at the edges.

  I saw Rose wave her small wand, then the ropes were falling. The bad news was my body released from being held, slid down the upright I was crucified to, putting all the weight through my pinned hands. Pure agony exploded and in a roar—

  Strong arms were picking me up, and I pushed them back. I could hear screams and many feet running up a stairwell. I wiped my eyes and saw a very sweaty Kiersten looking back at me.

  “But you’re… I mean, I saw you—”

  “Flesh construct. Being the Merlin has its advantages you know,” she said, wiping an ash from her eyebrow.

  “Boss,” Rose said softly, “We have to go.”

  I looked around the room. The demonic form was half liquified, bones sticking out of its body. I’d always thought when you killed a summoned creature, you just sent it back to hell or from wherever it was from? This one… it wasn’t just a pile of ectoplasm, it was dead.

  Moaning on the floor, barely moving was another body burnt so black, the skin had split, and fresh blood was starting to pool on the floor beneath it.

  “Khrystiana?” I asked, holding my hands close to my body, wishing the pain would stop.

  “Zania,” she said softly. “We don’t have a lot of time. Can you gate?” she asked me.

  “My hands are shot,” I told her.

  “I mean, can you walk enough to go through the gate? I scared Khrystiana off only by surprise, she’s got half the castle keep coming up here, and I’m running low on power.”

  “You make it, I can go,” I told her.

  “Good,” she said and then closed her eyes.

  A flaming gate opened up in front of us, and I looked at her hesitantly.

  “It’s my private bunker. Even you might appreciate the security measures I have in place there.”

  “How do I know if I can trust you?” I asked her.

  “Boss,” Rose said, getting my attention, “Remember that stuff I couldn’t tell you before, because of promises and secrets?”

  “Yeah?” I asked her.

  “Now I can. You can trust her.”

  “Oh, well, that’s cool then,” I said and staggered for the gate.

  “Is he going to be ok?” Rose asked Kiersten from behind me.

  “He has to be,” was what I heard, then I was through.

  25

  The healing charm hadn’t been enough the first time using it. It took everything I had left and everything I’d stored in the charm already. That had wiped me out, and I awoke to Rose spooning feeding me broth with some egg noodles the next day. I stretched and sat up and looked around.

  “Where are we?” I asked her.

  “Somewhere in South America,” Rose said, her small body leveraging a spoon full of chicken goodness my way.

  “I can do that,” I told her gently and took the spoon from her and downed the contents, my hands still shaking with phantom pain.

  The room was carved out of stone on one side, glyphs and runes etched into the wall. I flipped to my magical sight and saw that they were active and put up a very powerful protective grid. I went back to my normal sight and saw the rest of the area was much like my bunker in Utah. Cement wall on one side, the ceiling, and the floor. I had been placed in a large queen sized bed wish lush pillows and blankets. Across from it was a smaller single sized bed where a figure snored softly under a wool blanket. I shivered and rubbed my hands across my arms. It was cool and damp feeling, but I didn’t smell any mold.

  “Yeah, you sorta collapsed on her bed, and you were too heavy to carry so…”

  “Thanks, short stuff. How’d I… I mean…” My hands ached, but when I held them up, I could see traces of a scar on the backs of them.

  “You collapsed on the bed, and I triggered your charm for you. You ate about four bowls of broth and noodles and slept. When you woke up, Kiersten re-upped the charge on it and healed you again, and now she’s wiped out, so if you aren’t too horribly tired, can you help me got a pet of food going for her?”

  “I can do that,” I said and got up.

  I was rank, having been in my clothing for more than a couple days. I felt my pockets and found my phone and pulled it out.

  “We called her,” Rose said softly.

  “Who did?” I asked.

  “I called while you were asleep. See, she’s safe and so is her mom, but—”

  “But what?” I asked her.

  “Let's get the food going first,” she said, landing on my shoulder.

  I saw where a camp stove had been set up on a folding table, gray Walmart grocery bags haphazardly stashed all around it. I looked off to one side and saw a camp toilet and the other wall had a line of water jugs on it.

  “She thought I would like this?” I asked her.

  “She didn’t know how well yours was set up, or that you lived in comfort in it,” Rose said as I approached the camp stove. “Know how to use that, boss?”

  “Yup,” I said.

  I unbagged the groceries, taking time because of the aches in my hands, and got a jug of water out and began cooking.

  “You said you could spill secrets,” I told her. “Start with Cindy first, then move to the secret squirrel stuff.”

  “A long time ago I told you that I was born after you, which is true. My family has been serving the council of mages for generations. I took over my mother’s job when I was old enough, and my first tutor was Mage Kiersten.”

  “I said to start with Cindy,” I told her, gruffly.

  “Fine, fine. Rasmussen got back to the Council first and claimed Kiersten had faked her own death and that her, Vivian and Zania were double agents, and he barely escaped with his life. See, every time Cindy saw Rasmussen in real
life, he was messing with her brain, reworking her memories of her grandpa. He slipped that one time and she sort of recognized him, but it had been forever ago, she was just a girl. Well, since he’s her grandpa, he’s promised not to hurt her.”

  “What’s the catch?” I said.

  “You turn yourself in, and you have two weeks’ time.”

  I chewed on that and started opening packages up and used a can opener that had been tossed on the table haphazardly to open a can of chicken that smelled suspiciously like tuna.

  “You get this information from Cindy?” I asked her.

  “No, as soon as I turned on your phone, he called. I don’t think he was lying, but I don’t think he realized how long I’d been working for the council either, so you see, there was more than one double agent.”

  “That’s why you’re the little traitor?” I asked her, stopping.

  “Not in a bad way,” Rose said landing on the table, her shoulders making a hitching motion. “Vassago only thought that because he knew I worked for Rasmussen. He knew Rasmussen was a double agent, but he must have thought he was a triple agent when you asked him to come with you.”

  She started crying.

  “When all along I’d been asked if I’d dedicate my life in service to helping the council and the mage who’d been selected to take over someday. I, of course, said yes, I never really was bound, not until I made my vows to you.”

  I turned the heat down and held my hand out. She hesitated then stepped on. I lifted her up eye level, and she sat, crossing her legs, her arms around her knees.

  “This whole time you’ve been helping Kiersten?” I asked her.

  “Voluntarily,” she told me. “I didn’t break my word, I didn’t break my bond.”

  “No little one, you didn’t,” I told her, “You were playing the long game. You told me everything you could at the time.”

  “Yes,” she said, her body hitching, “but nobody told me it was going to be so hard.”

  “Living never is, nor is trying to do the right thing,” I told her softly.

  “Boss?”

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Do you think any of this, the death, the pain… is it worth it?”