Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(24)

“You stood out back then,” he said, squeezing Tenn’s shoulders. “And you stand out now.” He actually reached up and brushed the side of Tenn’s face, tracing a scar with the back of his fingers. Tenn nearly collapsed at the softness of that touch. “It takes more than a few scars to hide that.”

Jarrett’s seriousness was replaced with a grin.

“Besides, you’re just as gloomy as you always were.” He took a half step back. “Who’d have thought we’d meet again out here, at the end of the world?”

Tenn shook his head. It was still swimming. His skin burned and tingled from Jarrett’s touch, and he wanted nothing more than to close the space between them, if only to be held, if only to connect to a part of his past that wasn’t covered in blood. A part of his past that suddenly, like a flare of light in the dark, felt like it could beckon toward a different future.

But he didn’t.

He doubted he ever could.

“Why’d you change your name?” Jarrett asked.

Tenn snapped back to the present, felt his treacherous face flush. The question was enough to slam him back into his body, though. It was enough to make him stop thinking of something better and focus on everything that had happened since.

“Because,” he replied. It was all Jarrett would get. At least for now. “Why did you?”

Jarrett shrugged. “I thought it sounded more commanding than ‘Kevin.’” He sighed. “Speaking of... I need to go talk to Cassandra. She’ll have learned we made it back, and she’s going to want to know that I found you.”

Suddenly, the past seemed entirely unimportant. In the weight of what was happening—Tomás and Leanna and Matthias—having this small connection seemed insubstantial.

“You still haven’t told me why you came after me,” Tenn said. He tried to steel his voice. Water made it waver.

Jarrett hesitated. It was clear he didn’t want to continue talking. At least not about this. It was a trait Air users seemed to have in common—the moment things became emotional, they drifted.

“I already told you,” Jarrett said. “The Prophets sent us.”

Just like that, it was like a wall slid between them, all in the name of duty.

Anger boiled within Tenn; how could the guy act nonchalant right now? They’d just witnessed a few dozen Hunters get murdered, had just confronted the most powerful necromancer Tenn had ever encountered. Not to mention that Water still hadn’t calmed down, and they still didn’t have an answer as to why.

“How can you be so calm about it? Matthias is still out there. People died. They died for me.”

“Thousands of people die every day,” Jarrett said. His voice was cold, distant, and Air glowed faintly in his throat. “That’s the world we live in. That’s the world we’re trying to change. Four years ago, all I could think of was going to college and getting high and playing video games. Now I’m in charge of one of the largest human outposts in America. I’ve sent hundreds of my comrades to die, and I’ll probably send hundreds more.” He closed his eyes. When he spoke again, his words were softer, almost a whisper. “If Leanna wants you, you’re dangerous—either to us, or to them. Either way, I’m going to keep you from them. It gives me a purpose—that’s why I’m calm.”

Tenn couldn’t even begin to process what Jarrett was saying. It was all bullshit. He didn’t believe in any Chosen One prophecy. He didn’t hold the key to ending the Kin’s reign. He was a fighter, and only because he had to be. Only because not fighting had cost him everything.

“But why me?” Tenn asked, deflated. He hadn’t actually meant to say it, but the words spilled out against his will.

Jarrett studied him for a moment before answering.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “But I plan on keeping you around long enough to find out.”

Jarrett continued down the hall, and Tenn followed close behind. His head was spinning. He was in Outer Chicago, standing beside the city’s second-in-command. He’d been pursued by Howls and necromancers and, now, the most powerful mage alive. In a way, it sounded like a fairy tale.

So why did it feel like a nightmare?

“All our rooms are underground,” Jarrett said, leading him through a tunnel that definitely hadn’t been part of the building’s original construction. The walls here were bare stone, smooth and shining and dotted with doors; Tenn knew Earth magic when he saw it, and this place had been carved out by Earth mages. Flickering lamps dotted the walls, making the entire place feel like some archaic dungeon. “Hopefully you’re not claustrophobic. We had to put some apartments up top for the Air mages.” Jarrett looked back and grinned—apparently, the seriousness from before had passed. “We’re not so good with being buried alive.”

Jarrett stopped and opened a door, gesturing inside. “Home sweet home.”

It was stupid, but despite everything, seeing the room sent a small wave of relief through him. Inside, lit by a hurricane lamp, was a single large bed, a sink and a dresser. Just one of each. Which meant he wouldn’t have to sleep with a dozen others snoring or yelling in their dreams. And, if he was being honest, a space this far underground made him feel safe. Secure. Ever since last year, when he’d been attuned to Earth, the closer he was to the soil, the happier he felt.