Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
The enclosure itself is made of glowing orange-white striations of molten power that resemble intersecting sprays of lightning bolts. It’s a network of magnetic vibrations that cause my curls to pull straight and float away from my head if I walk too near, and it hums with menace if anyone gets too close. It sits in an empty room of gray concrete walls and floor with a single door that allows a demigod to come in and deliver food and collect Rune’s waste.
I don’t know what Rune looked like before he was stripped of power and made mortal, but he looks like a wasted shell of a man right now. His hair is long, matted, and filthy. His beard is shot through with gray, and his eyes are sunken. He’s slowly dying, and no one cares.
I know I certainly don’t, because while he didn’t play a part in the apocalypse, he is responsible for killing my sister repeatedly.
Finley told me the story. In the eighth century, Carrick had been ordered by the gods into service of the High King of Ireland to help defeat the Vikings. It was there he fell in love with a mortal woman named Eireann, and they married. Carrick despaired as he knew he’d continue an immortal life while she withered and died, so he stole a magical potion from Rune that would grant immortality. There was only enough for one dose, and Rune had planned on using it on a mortal woman he purportedly loved.
A fight ensued and The vial was broken, spilling the potion in the dust so neither woman could use it. Rune was so enraged, he killed Eireann in retribution, but that wasn’t enough to appease his anger. With his power over life and death, he cursed Eireann to be repeatedly reincarnated and meddled with fate to have her continually put in Carrick’s path so he would fall in love with her over and over again. He recognized her each time and was crushed with every instance of her death.
Finley is Eireann, and she was again reunited with Carrick, although this time, there was a prophecy she was fated to stop with his help. Rune hated Carrick so much, he tampered with the prophecy and tried to kill Finley before she could fulfill her duty. It was for this and other perfidies that the gods stripped him of his power, rendered him mortal, and locked him in this prison.
Carrick was offered the choice to kill Rune, but he declined. He knew a long, slow death would be so much more fitting.
“If it isn’t the new god of Life come to visit,” Rune drawls as he watches me approach. It’s not my first time here and probably won’t be my last.
In my endless search to figure out what I am and who I’m supposed to be, I’ve sometimes turned to the original in the hopes of gleaning something valuable.
This man, after all, ruled over life and death since the dawn of time and assuredly has nuggets that might be helpful.
Of course, I can’t come right out and ask him for help because that would seem desperate and weak. Instead, I have to goad him for information, but I know he doesn’t mind my visits. I’m the only creature who has talked to him in a year.
He’s thirsty for companionship but I never forget he’s evil.
“I saw Finley the other day,” I say as I draw closer. Rune’s expression suffuses with hatred. “She and Carrick are living quite the idyllic life in Malibu.”
“Neither deserving of such a life,” he hisses.
“I get why you hate Carrick,” I muse. “He killed your chance at eternal love, but I don’t get why you hate my sister.”
Rune shrugs and turns his head away, appearing disinterested. “She was a means to an end.”
“Did you mourn for your love when she died?” I ask, really getting to the heart of the reason I’m here.
Head snapping back my way, Rune narrows his eyes. “Why do you want to know?”
I hum low in my throat as if I’m not quite sure. “Just making conversation.”
Rune leans forward, baring his teeth. “When she died, I envisioned killing your precious sister over and over again. Every time she died, I laughed and laughed until my belly ached. And every tear that Carrick shed for her was a balm to my broken heart.”
That’s what I wanted to know. I had to hear it from him, but can I trust it?
“I don’t believe you have the ability to have a broken heart,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand.
Rune slouches backward, strokes his beard. “You don’t believe a god can love?”
“I don’t know… you tell me.”
Please tell me the truth. Do I have the ability to truly love or will I lose what little humanity I might have?