Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(36)

“Who’s there?” grunted a man’s voice. He knew that voice, even though he’d only heard it once. Once was enough.

“Caius,” he muttered under his breath, his blood immediately set to boiling. He didn’t stop walking, though. He wasn’t going to let a religious nutjob ruin his only night here.

Something hit the ground in front of him. The bastard was throwing things at him.

“I asked you a question,” Caius called. He kept his voice down, but there was a sense that if Tenn didn’t stop, this would get ugly real fast. He paused.

“Oh,” Caius said. The preacher shuffled closer. He smelled distinctly of whiskey. “It’s you. The newest recruit.”

“Yes,” Tenn said. His jaw was clenched. “What do you want?”

Caius shrugged. He was still in his suit, his hair mussed from sleep, or lack thereof.

“Just to talk, Hunter. Just to talk.” There was a slight slur to his words.

“I don’t have time.”

He took a step, and Caius’s arm reached out and stopped him in his tracks.

“Make time,” Caius grated. He let go of Tenn’s arm and stood back, brushing himself off. It was futile—the dust was as much a part of his suit as the fabric.

Tenn really didn’t want to stand around with this guy. He distrusted the religious fanatics on principle alone. He’d seen the posters in the year or so before the Resurrection, when magic was a new discovery. Magic had always been seen as the devil’s work, and many people died because of it. But not at the hands of the mages or the monsters.

Apparently, burning people at the stake hadn’t died out with the Puritan times. A new Church had formed in direct opposition to magic and the Dark Lady, a faith devoted to ridding the world of darkness and evil. One whose methods overshadowed the whole “love thy neighbor” thing.

The last thing Tenn wanted was to make a scene. Caius’s sheep were probably close at hand, ready to tear him apart. And Cassandra wanted this to be a quiet exit.

“You have two minutes.”

Caius sighed. “Impatient, impatient.” He took a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and brought it to his lips. From another pocket came a matchbook; he flipped it open, struck a match and lit his cigarette in one well-practiced movement. “That’s what got us into this mess.” He took a long drag and exhaled slowly. The smoke wafted up into the moonlight like a shade.

“What are you talking about?”

Caius’s breath might have smelled like the bottom of a whiskey barrel, but his hands didn’t shake and his eyes never left Tenn’s face.

“The Dark Lady,” Caius said. He spit, then took another drag. “She was human once. She was impatient, too.”

“I don’t have time to listen to your myths.”

“They aren’t myths,” Caius said, the smoke seething from his lips. “I know. I knew her.”

Tenn paused. The man could be out of his mind—it wouldn’t have surprised him, especially since he was probably drinking homemade moonshine—or just being a dick. But Caius wasn’t throwing slurs or railing against him. He seemed conversational. Rational. Except for the Dark Lady bit. No one from the Church would claim they knew the goddess that destroyed mankind. At least, not unless they were boasting that they were the ones who killed her.

“I know what you think of me,” Caius said. He gestured to his filthy suit. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“None of us were.”

Caius chuckled. “Of course, of course. You weren’t always doing the devil’s work. Might even say you were tricked into it. Too bad you’re going to hell for it.”

Tenn sighed. On that track again. It was time to go, then. “I need to—”

“Listen. For once in your godforsaken life, that’s what you need to do.” Caius flicked the cigarette to the ground. “Why do you think I’m here, huh? Why am I in a devil-controlled colony when there are perfectly good septs a hundred miles away? Do you think I like living among sinners and sheep?”

He had a point. Most of the old priests lived in the Church-controlled septs, the religious safe havens. They wouldn’t think of stepping foot in a place controlled by mages and Hunters, who were no better in their eyes than the monsters roaming outside.

“I figured you were like everyone else. You were here because you didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re right,” Caius said. “But not for the reasons you think. I knew things, things the Church never wanted me to know, and they tried to kill me. Sent their Inquisition my way in hopes of silencing me. So I came here. But soon, they’ll find me. And when they do, their deepest secrets will die with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Tenn said.

“You will,” Caius replied.

He stepped closer, so close Tenn could smell the rot of the man’s teeth.

“There’s a darkness stirring in the world, Tenn. A darkness that fills even the holiest of men’s hearts. It started years ago, in the heart of the light. You think you know hell, think you’ve seen death and destruction, but you know nothing. Not compared to the evils yet to come.”

Tenn backed up. How did Caius know his name?

“What secrets?”

“You aren’t ready for them,” Caius said, still whispering. “Once you know, you’ll have the whole of the Church with a dagger at your back. But you will know. God told me. You’ll know soon why the first Howl was born.”