“I do like you,” Raider says. “A lot. But even if I didn’t want to fuck you senseless, I would still help you.”
Rune pauses. His fiery dark gaze stills. “What do you mean?”
Raider grins. “Tell me everything you know, cutie. I’m breaking you out.”
At seven in the morning—after three hours of talking and four hours of sleep—Raider rolls out of bed. Rune says there’s no rush. He’s been trapped so long, what’s another day? Another month? Another year?
But Raider can’t stand the thought of Rune being trapped for a second longer than necessary. So really, Val should be grateful Raider waits until seven to call.
“You’re calling me at fuckface o’clock in the morning because you want me on a gig?” Val demands, entirely ungrateful.
“It’s the last time, I swear,” Raider says, plugging in his coffee maker.
“You said last time was the last time!” Val groans. “Ugh. Whatever. I have some free time. What are we digging up now?”
Raider grins. “My boyfriend.”
7
One week later, Rune still can’t believe Raider’s promise. Heshouldn’tbelieve him. But Rune wants to, with every fiber of his soul. Even the agony of hope is better than the lack of it.
If Raider is to be believed, he and his sister Val are currently less than a hundred feet away, inspecting the outside of Rune’s prison. The idea of that proximity is overwhelming, whether it’s true or not.
“How’re you doing there?” Val asks over the line.
Rune’s phone sits on his kitchen table, right where he first found it. He has it on speaker so he can pace as he talks. He’s barely spent a moment without someone on the phone for the past week, except when both Raider and Val had to sleep. Raider even bought extra phones, so he could talk on one while the rest charged.
That’s something Rune hadn’t even considered. His phone never loses battery. Raider was very interested in that detail—another of his thousand questions about every item and event in Rune’s chamber. The fact that Rune’s belongings manifest without any intentional spell or ritual seems particularly important, as is the mechanism of disappearance.
“Do they disappear while you’re not paying attention, orbecauseyou’re not paying attention?” Raider asked at one point. He was more intrigued than frustrated when Rune couldn’tanswer. “Do they appear because you need those specific items in particular?”
“I don’t see how,” Rune had said. “I didn’t know televisions existed when mine appeared. I don’t know how I knew it was called a television. I’ve always just wanted to connect with the world, even if I could never escape.”
“Until now,” Raider said quickly. “Trust me, pretty boy. You’re getting the fuck out of there.”
Raider’s so sweet. He even asked to make sure the attention wasn’t overwhelming. But Rune wants to be overwhelmed. He’s afraid of what will happen if he closes his eyes. Whether due to the constant attention or something else, Rune hasn’t lost any time since he met Raider. He remembers everything, and even more importantly, Raider remembers him. No matter what happens today, Raider will continue through the centuries with Rune’s voice in his heart. If that’s the only freedom Rune gets, that will be enough.
Now, Rune answers, “I’m still fine. Have you figured out what spell they used?”
Val sighs. “Kinda sorta. It would help if we knew exactly what cult the casters were from.”
“I’m sorry I can’t remember more.”
“Not your fault, honey.” Val raises her voice. “Maybe if Raider read some fucking books,ever, we’d have made some progress.”
Raider’s cheerful “Fuck you!” rings out from the distance. Audible only over the phone, not through the walls. Even though he’s right there.
Still, the sound of Raider’s voice puts a silly grin on Rune’s face. He twists his fingers in the hem of his shirt. Raider told him to get properly dressed—which means jeans and socks along with his tie-dye shirt. Rune’s last pair of shoes disappearedaround five years ago, possibly because he never wore them. So, Raider has shoes waiting for him in their camper.
Rune’s head spins with how much he’s learned about his own prison in the past week. Apparently, he lives underneath a valley that locals say is haunted, right next to a popular campground. There’s a lake to fish in. Maybe it’s the lake Rune used to see in his mirror.
Winter is fading outside, and everything is ready to bloom.
Rune’s prison is a hexagonal structure, riddled with ritual carvings, in the center of a larger network of catacombs. Val estimates that the carvings are two hundred years old. Raider gave Rune a virtual tour on video call, and Rune couldn’t interpret anything. The timing makes sense with an obscure, superstitious cult that used to operate in the area, according to Raider and Val.
Raider sounds closer when he speaks again. “Hey, cutie, I’m going to talk to Val alone for a second. Hang tight, and I’ll call you back in ten minutes, okay?”
“Is something wrong?” Rune asks, nervous.
