Runebreaker

Chapter 6 What Have We Done?

WHAT HAVE WE DONE?

Oh no.

I slapped a hand over my mouth. The wood beneath us cracked, and jagged fractures raced in all directions, splitting the old boards. Rheya grabbed the box, shoving it back into the satchel.

“Rheya, move!”

I tackled her. The floor dropped.

Dust billowed up in a choking cloud, coating everything gray. We scrambled to our feet, coughing, staring at the gaping hole in our attic.

Rheya peered over the edge. “Fuck me blind.”

Footsteps thundered from below.

My heart kicked against my ribs as I shoved Rheya toward the door. We burst through as the remaining beams started their death groan, taking the stairs three at a time. I gripped a side table and hurled it at a window. Glass exploded outward.

“Jump!”

Rheya was already gone, one hand on the ledge, then nothing but air. I followed her through the shattered window, into the night, into the terrible freedom of falling.

The bushes broke my landing.

Thorns clawed at my skirts as I tore myself free. Rheya’s hands found mine, yanking me upright, and we ran.

A roar of fury blasted through the window.

We flew out of the garden, through twisting alleyways that all looked the same in the dark, our boots slipping. My lungs burned like I’d swallowed fire, but we kept running.

Gasping, I ducked under an archway. My hands shook. Angry red welts covered my wrists where the rune had fought back, skin blistered and raw, but the pain felt distant. Unimportant.

“Gods,” Rheya laughed. “We blew up the house.”

A lump rose in my throat. “Let me see the box.”

Rheya slipped it out of her satchel, and its cracked case caught the light. The metal was scorched in places, warped like melted wax, but somehow still intact. Whatever was inside had survived our disaster.

My fingers hovered over the latch.

I inhaled and opened the box.

A mirror. Round, palm-sized, with a handle carved from bone. A border of tarnished silver curled around the glass. The mirror’s surface was cloudy, like breath had fogged the inside. A distorted shadow moved and then stilled.

“That’s it?” Rheya croaked.

My hands trembled as I flipped it over. A rune was etched into the back, surrounded by small crimson stones. I swept my thumb over the pattern, and a hot pulse snapped at me.

I hissed, wringing my hand.

Rheya leaned closer. “What kind of mirror needs to be locked away?”

I stared at it. Someone had been desperate to keep it contained.

Rheya grabbed the mirror and box, stuffing both in her bag as I pressed my palms into my forehead.

“Now what?” she asked.

I chewed on my lip. “Nectar. We need our money, and maybe Madam Cass can move this thing. She’s fenced stranger items for us before.”

We headed there as fast as we dared, keeping to shadows, following familiar routes through streets glistening with frost. The checkpoint loomed ahead—tall archway, two guards with snow-rimmed halberds.

One straightened as we approached.

“Servants,” he grunted.

His companion eyed my bracelet. “Bit late for errands.”

“We were sent for wine.”

“What happened to your skirt?”

If I answered wrong, we’d be seized and questioned. I bowed my head, letting my voice shake. “My master tore it. When I spilled his wine.”

“Oh yeah? Who is your master?”

“Lord Henrik.” I looked up, my eyes wide. “Please don’t tell him we were slow. He’s already so angry.”

The guard’s stare slithered down my body and back up again. The male beside him muttered something low, and both chuckled.

The guard stepped aside, smirking. “Give Lord Henrik my regards.”

I nodded, pulling Rheya through the archway. I didn’t breathe until we’d crossed into a quieter street, where stone walls loomed above us, dividing the merchant and cleric quarters. We ducked into an alley.

“Those guards are Rite fodder.” Rheya shook her head. “Sharing one brain between them.”

“Give me your wrist.”

She yanked her sleeve up. “About damn time.”

My thumb traced the groove of her bracelet’s rune, finding the lax thread all servant cuffs had—the fae’s arrogance, assuming we’d never learn to exploit it. I tugged.

Snap.

The bracelet tumbled into my hand.

She rubbed at her raw skin. “Finally.”

My cuff took seconds to unravel. Smoke wisped up as the metal fell away, and I grabbed both bracelets, hurling them over the wall into the cleric quarter. A faint clang echoed.

Rheya grinned. “They’ll waste hours searching for us.”

“That’s the plan.”

Let Henrik comb through manicured gardens. We'd disappear into the seedier corners of the merchant quarter, where guards rarely patrolled.

We jogged deeper into narrow streets. Oil lamps replaced magical lights, their glass panels so thick with grime you could barely see the flames inside. Everything here sagged—wooden frames bowing under the weight of too many years.

Signs creaked overhead. Taverns. Pawnshops. An apothecary with boards over half its windows. Humans bustled around in layers of patched wool, some still wearing silver cuffs. The brothel squatted at the end of the narrowest street.

Three stories of chipped crimson paint, dead ivy clinging to wrought-iron balconies, pink lanterns casting their provocative shade. I’d been here enough times that my fist found the door without thinking.

It opened.

Madam Cass stood in the doorway, wrapped in an embroidered robe. Golden curls spilled over one shoulder. Her skin was smooth, her cheekbones glowing with a layer of rouge.

“Good evening,” she drawled.

I stepped inside. “Nice to see you, too.”

Rheya slipped past me, making a beeline for the bar.

Madam Cass’s gaze swept over me, lingering on the rip in my skirt. “Rough night?”

I gave her a thin smile. “Something like that.”

She turned and led us deeper inside. Incense hung thick in the air, sweet enough to mask worse smells. Fae sprawled across velvet sofas, their glazed eyes tracking the dancers twirling between them.

Madam Cass settled behind the bar. “Sit. Have a drink.”

“We’re not here for that.” I stayed standing. “I need my money.”

Her perfectly painted brow arched. “Always straight to business.”

True. But then, our entire relationship was business—she fenced what we stole, took her cut, asked no questions. She’d moved jewelry from noble houses, banned books, weapons humming with illegal runes. If word spread about the broken runes at Arathi Manor, she’d be the first to connect it to us.

She snapped her fingers.

A man materialized from behind the curtain—tall, sharp-angled, black hair slicked like oil.

“Bring me their purse,” Madam Cass ordered.

The man nodded and retreated into the back.

Madam Cass faced me again. “Runecloaks have been sniffing around the last few days. Asking about a trinket.”

Rheya stiffened beside me.

I hesitated. “Don’t worry about it.”

She smiled. “They’re going door to door, interrogating humans. Seems excessive, if you ask me. Makes me think they’re searching for more than just stolen property.”

A chill slid down my spine. “Did they mention us?”

“Not yet. But it won’t take long.” Madam Cass plucked a half-burned cigar from a tray and lit it with a candle. “You should leave as soon as you can.”

“We will.”

The wiry man returned, dropping a heavy pouch onto the counter.

“Before you run,” she drawled, “you should know someone’s been waiting for you.”

I froze. “Who?”

Her grin was all teeth. “Your prince.”

My stomach dropped. “Vaeris?”

“Been pacing upstairs for an hour.”

Rheya bristled. “How did he know to look here?”

Madam Cass exhaled smoke. “The prince has eyes all over this city. Street rats willing to sell information for a few coins. He probably knew you were coming here before you did.”

Of course he did. “Did he pay you to tell him when we arrived?”

Madam Cass’s smile didn’t waver. “He pays me for a lot of things, darling. Discretion being one of them.”

“What does he want?”

Cass flicked her cigar. “You.”

My chest ached. How many times had I climbed those stairs to knock on his door?

Heart racing, desperate for a few hours where we could pretend the world didn’t exist. He’d rent rooms here when court became unbearable.

Madam Cass took his gold and kept quiet about the prince slumming with his human lover.

Cold washed over me, and my gaze wandered to the rooms upstairs.

He was there. Right now. I hated how clearly I pictured him—lips pressed into that grim line, shoulders tense, that furrow between his brows. Was he here to apologize? Or to make more promises he’d never keep?

He’d had weeks to explain, to fix it, to do anything but sit in Henrik’s dining room and humiliate me. And he wanted to talk when guards were hunting us?

Rheya shoved the purse into her bag.

I smiled at Madam Cass. “Tell him goodbye.”

Heavy boots struck the stone steps outside.

Rheya stiffened. “Did you hear that?”

A boot slammed against the front door. Muffled shouts. The sound of steel being drawn.

“Guards.” Madam Cass lurched to her feet, her silks swirling. “I’ll stall them.”

“Madam—”

“Don’t. You think this is my first raid?” She flicked more ash from her cigar. “Out the back. Now.”

The door thudded again. Without another word, we slipped through a curtain.

“Where’s the exit?” Rheya hissed.

“Left,” I muttered, pulse racing.

Madam Cass’s voice drifted toward us. “Gentlemen! Kicking down my door, really? Is that how the Crown treats its tax-paying citizens?”

We pushed open the door into an alleyway. The chill slapped my face as we moved quickly, listening for—

Voices. Ahead and behind.

“They’re boxing us in,” Rheya breathed.

I scanned our options. Main street—too exposed. Back the way we came—more guards pouring in. We sprinted around the corner.

Three Runecloaks stood there, facing the wrong direction.

“There!” One spun, pointing a gauntleted hand at me.

I yanked Rheya through a gap between buildings so narrow we had to turn sideways. Steel boots crashed against cobblestones, but their armor scraped against the walls, slowing them.

We burst out the other side.

“The storm gate,” I gasped.

Rheya shot me a look like I’d lost my mind. “The one holding the reservoir?”

“The service ledge. Too tight for guards. They can’t follow us.”

I launched myself at a low-hanging balcony. Grabbed the bars. Hauled myself up and rolled onto the roof, breathing hard. Rheya scrambled up beside me. We dashed along the shingles, and my legs burned as I jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

“Down there!”

I pointed to a canal below us.

Rheya vaulted off.

I followed, air rushing past me before I hit the water with a bone-jarring splash. Cold tore through me. I scurried out, gasping. Rheya seized my arm, dragging me to the edge.

“The gate,” she rasped.

The massive iron bars loomed ahead, crusted with ice where the reservoir seeped through.

The gate’s rune flickered like a dying heartbeat.

I threw myself at it, tracing the pattern with trembling fingers. If I could break this, the water would give us cover and maybe take out a few guards. My sleeves dripped as I tugged at the weave.

A shadow stretched across us.

“Aelie.”

Henrik’s voice came from above, calm as a prayer. I didn’t look up. I could hear the guards spreading out, surrounding us.

“You cannot escape.”

“Ignore him!” Rheya’s fingers dug into my shoulder.

Henrik’s boots crunched closer. “Surrender now, and I’ll be merciful. You have my word.”

The same word he’d given when he’d promised to treat us fairly. I’d seen his mercy—it left scars.

The rune writhed under my fingers, resisting with a malevolence that felt personal. Violent energy slammed through me, and my whole body spasmed. Light crawled up my arms in branching patterns of blue fire that were almost beautiful until the agony hit me.

I screamed.

Rheya grabbed me, but I shook her off.

Blood smeared the grate where my hands had slipped, skin torn away in strips. The pain surged again, worse this time, drilling through my bones like they were splintering from the inside out.

“You’re burning! Stop!”

“I can’t.” The words barely made it past my teeth.

Henrik was shouting, but magic boomed in my ears, drowning out everything except the rune’s resistance. My vision blurred, the world narrowing to this one impossible task—break it or die trying.

Blue lightning lashed outward with a crack. The shockwave rippled through stone and iron. Bars warped into twisted shapes. The embankment buckled, deep fractures racing through ancient mortar, and the first slab fell.

Then the water came.

It smashed through the weakened barrier, surging into the canal, which began to overflow.

The force knocked me backward into the churning water. I went under, slamming into the canal’s wall. The current pinned me there, crushing my chest. I swam up, desperate for air—

A hand snagged my wrist.

Strong arms hauled me up onto the canal’s edge. I gasped, water dripping everywhere. Henrik’s face contorted with rage as he gripped my shoulders.

“What the hell did you do?”

Below us, water roared through the canal and into the streets. Runecloaks rushed through the flooding alleys, yelling for people to get to higher ground. A bell tolled.

Rheya.

She clung to a beam in the canal. She looked up at me, eyes wide with terror. I couldn’t hear her over the rushing water.

Another surge was building behind the gate.

“Hold on!” I shouted.

It crashed through and slammed into her, swallowing her in white foam. When it passed, the beam was empty.

I screamed and lunged toward the canal.

Henrik’s arms locked around my waist, yanking me back. I clawed at him, kicking, thrashing.

The water churned, carrying debris. She was under there. Trapped.

I had to run. I thrashed against Henrik, but my limbs were too heavy. Black spots burst across my vision. The rune had been too powerful.

My knees buckled.

Henrik shook me, keeping me upright. “What are you?”

Blood poured from my nose and the world tilted sideways, colors bleeding together like paint. My hands were still glowing. Faint blue veins of light spiderwebbed up my arms, charred flesh stinging my nostrils. Pain hit me like a hammer to my bones. I screamed, but only a wet gasp came out.

“She’s dying,” someone said.

Henrik’s grip tightened. “Not yet.”

Their voices echoed strangely, like I was underwater.

“Take her to the Arcanum,” Henrik ordered, shoving me at the guards. “Have the healers see to her immediately, then bring her to me.”

They hauled me between them. My legs dragged over stone, the agony inside me growing as they carried me through the city.

Rheya needed me.

I would find her. Even if I had to burn it all down.