“I visit on occasion. But Tenebrous—the home of the Møriør—has been very far from Gaia and its planes. Tracing that distance can be demanding, even for immortals our age. The realm is moving closer as we speak, but still takes days to get there.”
“Realms can move?”
“Ours can.”
“Tell me about the Møriør. How many are there?”
He seemed pleased by her interest. “Including myself, ten. But we’ll eventually be a dozen. Møriør means twelve. Or soul’s doom. Most of us have been together for thousands of years.”
“How did you get involved with them?”
“I was in a dungeon. Orion, our leader, freed me. He’s descended from gods, very powerful.”
She laid her hand on Rune’s forearm. “Why were you imprisoned?”
“Long story short—”
“Lemme stop you right there. If it concerns you, I will never want the short story.”
He gave her a considering glance, but she could tell he’d liked that. “Very well. My father was the king of the fey kingdom of Sylvan. My mother was a slave he used. When I was born, he spared my life—against custom—but didn’t give me a life worth living. He died when I was fifteen. His widow, Queen Magh, forced me to become an assassin by holding my mother’s life over me. I later learned she was already dead.”
“I’m sorry, Rune.” He’d just confirmed those dreams of hers were indeed his memories. What else would she see? “Then what happened?”
“I was too good at my job. In time, there was no one to kill, no one to interrogate. So Magh sold me as a . . . slave. I suppose she expected me to lose my mind or wallow in misery. But I became cold, and I endured. She forced me back to Sylvan just to torture me. Orion found me in her dungeon and freed me. Because of him, I was able to exact my vengeance on Magh.”
“Then he has my thanks. I’m glad I never planned to spy on him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nïx wants me to get information on him, won’t let me see Thad until I do.”
Rune raised his brows. “So your solution is to assassinate her? Seems like a blunt-tool approach, doesn’t it?”
“Yep. It eliminates the obstacle. My motto? Squeeze until something breaks.”
“I’m discovering you like to keep things simple.”
She nodded. “Even though I’m not spying, I want to know more. Had you met Orion before he freed you?”
“No, never. Yet he somehow knew I would become the greatest archer in all the worlds.”
Rune said this matter-of-factly, as she did when she informed folks she was wicked strong. It’s not bragging if it’s true. “You told me your bow was a priceless gift. Was it from Orion?”
“Yes, the Darklight bow.” He plucked at the string. “You do listen to me on occasion.”
“Every now and then. Why’s it called Darklight?”
“It was crafted from Yggdrasil, one of the world trees. The wood was harvested beneath a full hunter’s moon, but cured with the fire of a sun dragon. Even my strength won’t break it. Which means I can shoot very, very far, and very, very fast. With the right arrow, I could pierce a mountain with ease. In the Elserealms, I’m known as Rune Darklight. It’s my surname, as much for the bow as for my species, I suppose.”
Josephine Darklight. Sigh. She would love to take his name, to finally become someone other than Josephine Doe. He’d asked her for her family name only once, but he’d promised to get all her secrets. Soon, she’d entrust them to him.
“Maybe I’ll take you shooting one day,” he offered, his tone casual.
One day equaled future. “I’d like that.” She glanced down at his ever-present quiver. “Why are your arrows different colors?”
“They each have a specific purpose. I use blood runes to bespell them.”
“I want to learn those symbols.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because they’re badass. And they’re how you got your name.”
“Learning them is easier said than done. Perhaps I’ll teach you a couple.”
A couple? She’d already memorized all the ones he’d drawn on her and the one he’d used today. “Let’s see your arrows.”
He drew out one with a white shaft and feathers. His runes shone in the dim light.
She noted the symbols.
“This is a bonedeath arrow,” he said. “Shot into the ground, it will pulverize the bones of anyone within screaming distance.” His expression was impassive; he didn’t sound proud or ashamed.
Yet he considered her ghosting him into the earth horrifying? “That arrow doesn’t hurt you or your allies?”
“I make us immune. I’ll add runes to spare you as well.”
“So that’s what Nïx was talking about.” When she’d been breaking my limbs. “Have you ever shot one of those?”
“Today I used it against troops of ice demons before I went to Dalli’s. She’s my friend I told you about.” He returned the arrow.
“Dalli’s a friend with benefits?” No denial. He’d gotten with that female less than a day ago. Jo’s claws sharpened. It seemed like weeks had passed. “So you had time to get busy with a nymph and go into battle?”
He shrugged, his demeanor all no big deal, then moved to the black arrow. “We call this”—he tapped the feathered end—“one-and-done. When I shoot a target in the neck, the arrow severs his head cleanly, which makes things tidier when I need proof of a kill.” His fingers skimmed a gray arrow. “This one is the eraser. It will explode an immortal’s body into small chunks.”