The Hidden God of Open Doors

7

One week later, Rune still can’t believe Raider’s promise. He shouldn’t believe him. But Rune wants to, with every fiber of his soul. Even the agony of hope is better than the lack of it.

If Raider is to be believed, he and his sister Val are currently less than a hundred feet away, inspecting the outside of Rune’s prison. The idea of that proximity is overwhelming, whether it’s true or not.

“How’re you doing there?” Val asks over the line.

Rune’s phone sits on his kitchen table, right where he first found it. He has it on speaker so he can pace as he talks. He’s barely spent a moment without someone on the phone for the past week, except when both Raider and Val had to sleep. Raider even bought extra phones, so he could talk on one while the rest charged.

That’s something Rune hadn’t even considered. His phone never loses battery. Raider was very interested in that detail—another of his thousand questions about every item and event in Rune’s chamber. The fact that Rune’s belongings manifest without any intentional spell or ritual seems particularly important, as is the mechanism of disappearance.

“Do they disappear while you’re not paying attention, or because you’re not paying attention?” Raider asked at one point. He was more intrigued than frustrated when Rune couldn’t answer. “Do they appear because you need those specific items in particular?”

“I don’t see how,” Rune had said. “I didn’t know televisions existed when mine appeared. I don’t know how I knew it was called a television. I’ve always just wanted to connect with the world, even if I could never escape.”

“Until now,” Raider said quickly. “Trust me, pretty boy. You’re getting the fuck out of there.”

Raider’s so sweet. He even asked to make sure the attention wasn’t overwhelming. But Rune wants to be overwhelmed. He’s afraid of what will happen if he closes his eyes. Whether due to the constant attention or something else, Rune hasn’t lost any time since he met Raider. He remembers everything, and even more importantly, Raider remembers him. No matter what happens today, Raider will continue through the centuries with Rune’s voice in his heart. If that’s the only freedom Rune gets, that will be enough.

Now, Rune answers, “I’m still fine. Have you figured out what spell they used?”

Val sighs. “Kinda sorta. It would help if we knew exactly what cult the casters were from.”

“I’m sorry I can’t remember more.”

“Not your fault, honey.” Val raises her voice. “Maybe if Raider read some fucking books, ever , we’d have made some progress.”

Raider’s cheerful “Fuck you!” rings out from the distance. Audible only over the phone, not through the walls. Even though he’s right there.

Still, the sound of Raider’s voice puts a silly grin on Rune’s face. He twists his fingers in the hem of his shirt. Raider told him to get properly dressed—which means jeans and socks along with his tie-dye shirt. Rune’s last pair of shoes disappeared around five years ago, possibly because he never wore them. So, Raider has shoes waiting for him in their camper.

Rune’s head spins with how much he’s learned about his own prison in the past week. Apparently, he lives underneath a valley that locals say is haunted, right next to a popular campground. There’s a lake to fish in. Maybe it’s the lake Rune used to see in his mirror.

Winter is fading outside, and everything is ready to bloom.

Rune’s prison is a hexagonal structure, riddled with ritual carvings, in the center of a larger network of catacombs. Val estimates that the carvings are two hundred years old. Raider gave Rune a virtual tour on video call, and Rune couldn’t interpret anything. The timing makes sense with an obscure, superstitious cult that used to operate in the area, according to Raider and Val.

Raider sounds closer when he speaks again. “Hey, cutie, I’m going to talk to Val alone for a second. Hang tight, and I’ll call you back in ten minutes, okay?”

“Is something wrong?” Rune asks, nervous.

“I just can’t concentrate when I’m listening to your sweet voice,” Raider answers smoothly. “You’re too deliciously distracting.”

Val groans loudly as the praise heats through Rune’s soul. It soothes him, sparkling at the edge of his vision. Rune is perfectly content when Raider hangs up the call.

Maybe that’s what’s been keeping Rune awake and aware since he met Raider. That glorious praise makes Rune feel so alive. So real. Like he exists more completely when Raider tells him how good he is.

Closing his eyes, Rune basks in the praise until Raider calls back—a video call this time.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Raider’s golden eyes gleam. “I’ve figured out how to get you out, but I’m going to need your help.”

“Okay,” Rune agrees, though he doesn’t understand.

Raider’s grin widens, warming away Rune’s doubts. “Trust me, beautiful. I’ve done this before. There are two parts to this spell. I can deactivate the outer part, but you need to open the door.”

Rune’s brow furrows. Ice crackles inside him. “There isn’t a door.” The phone trembles before Rune composes himself. “I’ve looked for a door. I would have found it.”

Raider just nods, reassuring and steady. “It won’t appear until I’ve taken care of the outside spell. But I need to figure out where it will be. Can you give me another tour of the place?”

Rune nods.

“Good boy,” Raider says.

A flush heats Rune’s face as he flips the camera to show the rest of the room. At Raider’s directions, Rune circles the chamber. Hopefully Raider is getting what he needs, because Rune loses himself in the strangest reverie.

He hates these gray stone walls—but they’re familiar. He hates and loves the plush rugs and smooth wooden floors. His prison and shelter for the past two hundred years, if Val is to be believed about the carvings.

“Raider,” Rune says as he scans the camera over the tiny, mismatched kitchen. “Are you sure I’m not a demon?”

“One hundred percent.”

“What if I’m something else bad?” Rune swallows down a lump in his throat. “What if it’s better for me to be here?”

Raider’s certainty doesn’t falter. “Doesn’t matter. I want you out, so I’m getting you out. Besides, I already know exactly what you are—my perfect match.”

Rune laughs despite everything. “That’s all right, then.”

“There,” Raider says suddenly.

Rune pauses in his parlor. “What?”

“The mirror on the wall. The door is behind that.”

“Oh,” Rune whispers. “Of course.”

The mirror used to show him pictures, before the newly invented television arrived. Raider corroborated enough of Rune’s hazy memories that some of those images must have been true glimpses of the outside world. Rune has no idea how it works, but he’s grateful for the mirror’s help. Now it hides one last gift.

“The configuration must be weaker there,” Raider says.

Excitement shivers through Rune. “Do I move the mirror?”

“Not yet. Val, what side is he on?”

Val has something set up to track the movements of Rune’s phone. “North side!” she calls out.

“Okay, wait for me, cutie.” Raider holds the phone closer, his golden eyes lighting up. Like being closer to Rune brightens him. “You’re so wonderful, you know that, right? You’re so good and patient.”

Rune squirms with the praise, pulse quickening. As if each word is a finger stroking the back of his neck. “I’m not that patient.”

Raider grins. “Impatient is even better. Trust me, I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on you. You’re so perfect. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Raider…” Rune starts, but can’t think of anything else to say. Gods, Raider has to know what he’s doing to Rune. He never lays the praise on so thick—Rune can hardly concentrate through the barrage of sweet words.

“Good boy,” Raider adds, which is unfairly distracting. “Okay, I’m going to hang up, then voice call. I need my hands free for this.”

When Raider calls back, Rune presses the phone to his ear.

“Are you ready?” Raider asks.

“Please,” Rune whispers.

From a distance, Val calls out, “I’m starting.”

A chime echoes through the connection. A hiss like a sudden flame. The scattering of small stones.

“Okay!” Val says.

Raider takes a deep breath, right in Rune’s ear. “All right, cutie, you’ve been so fucking brave. The door’s going to appear behind the mirror. You won’t see it at first, but the cracks will start to glow. They’ll be orange like the light in your beautiful eyes. Once you see the outline, all you have to do is push.”

Rune floats on the high of every sweet word. “I need both hands, so I’m... I’m hanging up now.”

“That’s perfect,” Raider says. “Just open the door, and I’m waiting for you. You’ve been so good waiting for me. You’ve got this.”

With a shaky exhale, Rune hangs up. Slips the phone into his back pocket. Raider’s words still circle, cushioning Rune’s every move. Grateful joy floods his chest, chasing away every fear and doubt.

Raider is waiting for him. Raider says he’s good.

This will be okay. This will work.

Rune grips the edge of the mirror. It separates easily from the stone wall. The heavy wooden frame bites into his fingers, and he has to concentrate to settle it on the floor.

There’s a patch of darker stone where the mirror once hung. As Rune watches, the darkness flickers. Spreads. Warm, orange light slices through the solid stone. A thin outline twice as wide as Rune and half again as tall.

A door. Just like Raider described.

The stone is coarse and dusty beneath Rune’s palm. The slightest pressure pushes the door outward—and Rune is free.