Runebinder. Alex R. KahlerЧитать онлайн книгу.
before he could shake off the twins to join Matthias, Jarrett lunged into action.
Tenn yelled, but Matthias just brushed Jarrett aside with a wave of his hand. Jarrett skittered to the ground at Tenn’s feet. The rest of the troop rallied immediately, running toward Matthias with weapons raised and magic blazing.
Before Tenn could join the fight, before he could keep these idiots from dying for him—him, worthless, meaningless him—someone pulled him back toward the waves. Fog descended over the boulevard, broken only by muffled shouts and flares of fire. Then he was plunged beneath the waves, and everything went cold and black.
* * *
They raced beneath the waves of the lake. Magic wrapped around them, pushing them through the water at breakneck speed. Tenn’s lungs burned as they rocketed away from the shore, heading deeper and deeper into the depths of the lake, far out of Matthias’s sight. He couldn’t see anything through the darkness, couldn’t tell how deep they were diving. But he could feel the cold pressure of the water, the endless expanse of the lake, as his own magic-fueled senses stretched out. Dreya’s hands were still tight on his arm; he tried to fight her off. He had to get back to them. Had to save them. Had to keep them from killing themselves over him. But Dreya’s hands were a vise, the magic and water pressing him tight to her. Try as he might, he couldn’t break free. His lungs and limbs burned with the effort.
When he couldn’t take any more, he took a frantic breath. Air filled his lungs. He didn’t even bother to be surprised.
He gave up the struggle.
Deep in the darkest pits of his heart, he knew it was already too late. His comrades were dead or Howls now. Matthias wouldn’t have delayed the slaughter. If anything, Tenn’s leaving probably hurried it.
The only consolation was the tingle of magic nearby. The slight halo of energy that ringed the others who fled beside him. The hazy halo of blue emanating from Devon: Water and Air, just like Dreya. And just like Dreya, he carried another. He could sense the shape of the figure with Water’s power. Jarrett.
It shouldn’t have made his heart warm, but it did.
He expected the dark water to erupt into flame, expected Matthias to drop down into the depths and kill them. Matthias had to be close behind. He had to be following them, enraged, and Tenn could only imagine what would happen to them when they were caught. The ash of Derrick’s body still seemed to cling to Tenn’s lungs, making him want to gag. Derrick’s image stuttered like a broken movie reel, shadowed by the flares in the fog, the silhouettes of his comrades as they fought against Matthias. As they died for him.
Because of him.
Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes ebbed to hours. Tenn lost track of how long they fled, and the depths gave no hint of the time. There was nothing to distract him from the memories, from the smell of his comrades’ burning flesh. Nothing to distract him as Water regurgitated the battle scenes, meshed them with all the horrors of the past few years. Every once in a while, his attention would flick back to the water surging around them. Back to the hands holding him tight.
Back to the awareness that Jarrett was nearby. Safe.
Why did that make him feel better?
Why did it keep reminding him of a past he’d tried so hard to forget?
After what felt like days, the water around them lightened. The sun must have been rising; they were still so deep he couldn’t see more than a tinge to the black. A tinge that illuminated great shapes below them. The Sphere of Water filled in the rest. Massive blocks stretched through the darkness like shipwrecks, forms of concrete and steel. Some glinted slightly in the sun. Others were dark, pitted and cavernous.
He jolted as they abruptly changed course. Dreya dragged him up, away from the structures below, and in seconds, they plunged into the air. Only a few moments of weightlessness, the shock of light after so much dark, and then they landed on top of a crumbling concrete slab. For a while, he just lay there, gasping, as the water pooled and cold air soaked to his bones. He couldn’t focus on what was happening. Couldn’t force his mind to kick-start and work again. All he could do was focus on the cold and his breath and the pain. Every muscle in Tenn’s body ached, but he didn’t open to Earth. He wanted to feel the hurt. After everything that had just been sacrificed for him, it was the least he could do.
He closed his eyes, let his focus drift in and out. Shreds of conversation drifted through his clouded mind. Finally, he forced himself to sitting and looked around, wincing from the effort. The morning was cold and clear, the sun streaking across the horizon. Beautiful, if not for the nightmare still plaguing him. No land in sight. Just sparkling waves and broken plinths rising from the surf. Things clicked with a disgusting snap. He knew precisely where they were. This was all that was left of Chicago. And the water had once been Lake Michigan.
“What the hell are we doing here?” he asked.
The twins stood farther off, conferring with Jarrett. All of them were dry. Tenn very much was not.
Jarrett looked over and the twins went silent.
He knew the three of them could kill him in an instant, knew it was them who should be questioning him. But the pain in his heart was too much. Water raged. He let it. It was easier than thinking about what he’d done. Easier than thinking about the deaths. Or Tomás. “What the hell is going on?”
Tenn stood as he spoke, realizing he’d lost his staff somewhere along the way, and tried not to sway too much when he did so. Everything was quiet and pastoral, save for the lulling wash of waves. He wanted to scream. Scream because it was too picturesque, too quiet, and his comrades were either dead or dying and here he was, alive and well, for absolutely no reason. He wanted to get back to them. He had to. He had to give himself up.
Jarrett stepped forward and reached out.
“Tenn, let me explain.”
“No. No, don’t touch me. Tell me why you were sent.”
“You know why we’re here,” Jarrett said slowly. As though Tenn had lost his mind in the battle. “We were sent to protect your troop.”
“Bullshit!” Tenn yelled. Water pulsed in his gut, and waves crashed higher against the building. Shakily, he pushed the power away. He couldn’t trust himself with it. “If you were just sent to protect us, why didn’t you stay with them? Why did you...?” He could barely force down the tears. Why did you save me? Why didn’t you save everyone else? Why am I here, when the rest of them are dead?
Jarrett looked back to the twins. Dreya shrugged. Devon studiously looked away. When he turned back to Tenn, Jarrett wore an expression Tenn couldn’t place.
“You have to understand, Tenn. We’re just trying to protect you.”
Tenn shook his head. “Why? Why me? Why didn’t you save everyone else? You could have saved everyone else.”
“We could not,” Dreya said. She stepped forward. Devon moved at her side. A shadow. “We would not have had the strength to carry so many. To do so would have risked us all. We would have been followed.”
“But why me?” I’m no one. I’m worth nothing.
“Because we were sent to find you,” Jarrett said.
Hearing him say it was a kick in the stomach.
“Why?”
Jarrett opened his mouth, but Dreya put a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward.
“You are being targeted by the Kin,” she said.
Tenn’s heart lurched to his throat. Did she know about Tomás?
“Dreya, don’t—” Jarrett began, but she waved her hand and continued, anyway.
“It is not a statement you wish to hear. Any sane man would feel the same. But it is the truth. The Kin desire you, and they will stop at nothing to take you. That is why we were sent.”