Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(80)

He slowed the moment he neared the man. Tenn’s pulse was calm, his breathing slow. Earth was a steady hum in his pelvis, Water impatiently waiting to be unleashed. Just the sight of Matthias was enough to make the Sphere growl with hatred. Water churned, bubbling with memories of Jarrett’s eyes, flashing traces of his touch. Over and over, with every blink, Tenn watched Jarrett leap to his death. All at the hands of the man in front of him.

Tenn clenched his jaw. Studied his foe. He was so close he could see the fields reflected in Matthias’s eyes, could watch every single bead of sweat drip down the man’s forehead. Matthias was straining. And yes, there was a hint in his eyes of more than concentration. Matthias looked unnerved. Surprised. And that emotion clearly frightened him.

Tenn opened to Water.

The Sphere sang with bloodlust. There were a thousand ways to die, and Water wanted to inflict every single one—impale him on a tree and let him bleed, drain his magic and make him a Howl, slit his wrists and spike him to the ground... It showed Tenn other things, too—things besides Jarrett leaping into the night. It showed him his house, empty, blood smeared on the walls; it showed him his parents, a bloody mound in the back shed; it showed him endless days of nothingness, of waiting to die.

It showed him every single thing that was wrong with his life.

And all he had to do to rectify it was kill Matthias.

He slowly walked around, behind the necromancer. He knew it was cowardly. He was far past caring.

This is for Jarrett.

Tenn struck.

He slashed low with his staff, severing Matthias’s heels. Matthias fell to his knees, his Spheres flickering from the shock.

Matthias gasped as Tenn stepped around him, bringing the man into the stones’ orbit. But he was a man used to battle, and Tenn’s appearance was a quick surprise.

Fire blossomed at his fingertips. Tenn was faster.

He pulled through Water, dragged every droplet of moisture into a shield of ice just inches in front of his skin. Power screamed within him. He tasted blood, but whether his own or his imagination, he couldn’t tell. Fire billowed across the shield, white-hot and angry, but Tenn’s power was stronger. Your pain is your greatest strength, Tomás had said. And Tenn had more than enough of that to spare.

Matthias’s fire died out, and Water took its opportunity. The shield shattered, crystallized into a million tiny pieces that Tenn sent slashing across Matthias’s skin.

This is for me.

The man had the decency to scream.

Water had taken control now, a torrent of rage and memory that wanted to destroy as much as it wanted to prolong the blissful agony. It felt the pulse in Matthias’s veins, the beat of his heart, the blood trickling from his wounds. It delighted in the beauty of red, in the symmetry of every slash, each cut a testament to Rhiannon, to Jarrett, to everyone this man had killed. The man brought his hands up, wisps of flame swirling in his palms, but Tenn slashed off his hands and the magic faded. He fell backward on the ashen grass, staring up at Tenn with narrowed eyes.

Tenn stepped over him and raised his staff, then brought it down and speared the necromancer’s stomach to the ground.

Matthias’s back arched, blood spraying from his lips. Tenn could feel Matthias’s life flickering, fading. But Tenn wasn’t done just yet. Not by a long shot.

When Matthias sank back to the ground, he looked Tenn straight in the eyes and laughed.

The sound made Tenn’s skin turn cold.

Blood trickled from Matthias’s lips in streams, each heartbeat another spurt, each laugh a spray of crimson. Tenn twisted the staff. Matthias gasped, but he kept laughing.

“How does it feel?” Matthias asked. His voice came out in a rasp, but it was still strong, still had the power to chill Tenn to the bone.

“What?” Tenn asked through gritted teeth.

“Revenge,” he said. “Is it everything you hoped for? Do you...do you feel vindicated?”

“I feel nothing. I just want you dead,” Tenn said. Another twist of his staff. Matthias didn’t look away or flinch.

“And what good will that do?” Matthias asked. “I am one man. As are you. Who can you hope to save? Everyone you love is doomed to die.”

“I can at least keep you from killing again,” Tenn said.

Matthias chuckled again, the noise only broken by a wheeze.

“Killing me will do nothing. It won’t bring back your parents. It won’t save you from falling into Leanna’s clutches. My goddess is the Dark Lady. For me, death is a reward.” Matthias’s smile was a red slash across his face, one that dripped to the ground.

No, no, he has to see that he’s losing.

“I’ve already won,” Matthias continued. “Leanna was right. Take the man you love, and you would leap right into our hands.”

“I’m not playing anymore. I have the Witches, and once I have the proper runes, I’ll destroy her.”

“No,” Matthias said. He lifted his head off the ground and smiled. “You won’t. Because you have overlooked one key thing.”

Tenn didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to fall prey to this, not anymore.

“You’ll seek out Leanna.” Matthias chuckled. “You’re still the mouse in our little game.”

Tenn twisted the staff again. Water screamed, wanted the man to choke on his own blood.