First Runes (Knight Protector Book 5) by Rachel Ford

Author:Rachel Ford [Ford, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty – Brynja

I stepped inside with trembling breath. The outer chamber of Ketil’s room – a kind of personal study – was neat and orderly, the way everything in his life was. His books all lined shelves, except for one stray that sat at his desk beside a writing pad and inkwell. The fireplace lay cold in this particular room. One of the night maids would be by in a few hours to get it lit, before her shift ended and his began.

But I could see the orange glow of steady flame in the room beyond. I could see, because the door was wide open. Light and shadow danced through the doorway, exposing a slice of the study to near visibility.

Like the book, alone on the desk, there was no missing the dark smear a few meters ahead of me on the rug. It was too out of place to be overlooked.

I couldn’t make out the exact color in the faint, orangish light. It might have been purple, or a deep shade of blue, or maybe even black. But I knew it wasn’t. I knew it was red. Blood red.

I moved past the stain and toward the open door. I saw more smears and droplets here.

And Ketil, in a white night shirt streaked with that same dark color – not in his bed but slumped at an unnatural angle against a wardrobe.

I loosed a cry, half whimper, half call for help, and darted to his side. He still felt warm to the touch, but not warm enough. The blood on his nightshirt was cool and sticky on my hand. And worse, it had stopped seeping from the great, dark gashes in his side and on his chest.

I knew what that meant. But I didn’t think it. I couldn’t. Not Ketil – not honest, loyal Ketil, who had been there for me during my long, lonely childhood, who had maintained my father’s estate for me all those years until I was old enough to claim it. Who had been a better parent to me than anyone living. Not Ketil.

“Oh Freya. Ketil, can you hear me? Ketil?” He made no response. I checked frantically for a pulse or heartbeat. I found neither.

With bloodstained fingers, I fished under my neckline for the rune that hung there. I pressed it to his chest, channeling every bit of energy I could into healing him.

I was sobbing and trembling from head to toe. I could barely breathe. Ketil was dead. Energy poured through the rune, but he lay there – limp, unmoving.

Dead.

“No, no. Help me. Someone, help me!”

I’d used this rune before to raise Aeron from death, to imbue his bones with life and flesh again. If it could bring a dragon back from the void, if it could stitch flesh and scales to his bones, why not a man? Surely it could knit together a few wounds and breathe life back into his body.

The air rumbled with energy, starting as a low grumble and growing into a loud roar.

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