Rune Seeker

Fifteen minutes later—after an extra stop in the weapons room where they’d come up to the city—Hiral dashed across yet another rooftop until he got to the edge. Checking the street in both directions, he spotted a Shaper casually strolling in the opposite direction, but the rest of the city was oddly quiet.

Not so odd if people are trying to avoid the fighting. Without knowing how many insurgents there are, folks are probably waiting for word from the Council.

On the roof of the next building over, Right looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “We waiting on something?” the double asked quietly in the party chat.

“First time I’ve ever seen this part of town so empty,” Hiral said.

“Which is why we’re taking the roofs instead of the streets,” Left said from a building on Hiral’s other side. “We’d stand out too much, and hardly anybody looks up.”

“And we don’t have time to stand around,” Right reminded him.

Hiral glanced at the timer ticking down—just over two and a half hours until, well, the end of his world. If the storm completely engulfed the islands, there was no way there would be any survivors. And that didn’t even take into account his theory the Fallen was already awake. Right was… right. As usual. They needed to get moving.

“Let’s go,” Hiral said. A gentle burst of Rejection launched him across the street to land softly on the far roof, while Left and Right made their own ways over. Spread out like they were, they’d be less likely to get noticed and would be able to watch each others’ backs.

And Left had a good point: People didn’t look up.

Crossing more than one street had them silently hopping over the unsuspecting heads of Shapers, Artists, and Academics alike. Hiral had considered putting his Second-Skin of Ur’Thul in his Interspatial Ring and taking the road like a normal resident—he was a normal resident, after all, or at least close enough—but there was nothing he could’ve done about the Ring of Amin Thett floating behind him, or the Emperor’s Greatsword across his back. Both of those would attract too much attention if somebody even so much as looked.

Then again, with how empty the streets are, it’s not like there are many people to look.

The trio traveled another five minutes and dozens of blocks before Left spoke up over the party chat. “Got something happening over here.”

Hiral paused, double-checking to make sure there was nobody on the roofs with them. “What do you see?”

“A pair of Shapers stopping somebody in the street,” Left said.

“They didn’t see you?” Right asked.

“Of course not.”

Hiral looked toward the edge of the island, where the storm wall quickly rumbled in their direction. Within thirty minutes, it’d be at the edge of the island. The border farms would be destroyed first, and anybody who didn’t head inland wouldn’t do any better. Even if they survived the ferocity of the passing stormfront, what came behind it would be even worse.

His instincts urged him to continue to the Amphitheatre. He wasn’t far now—he could see the silhouette of it from where he stood—but what about the person in the street? This wasn’t a dungeon. These were real people. Maybe even people he…

“Hiral, you need to see this,” Left said urgently. “It’s Nat.”

“What? Where?” Hiral asked, already vaulting in Left’s direction.

As soon as his feet touched down, his double pointed two blocks up the street. Hiral’s high Atn quickly picked out the two large Shapers—and the two smaller ones with them. Barely more than children, they only had the barest Meridian Lines and just the dagger tattoo on the insides of their wrists. And they looked familiar. Those were two of the kids from his last test.

But, as strange as it was seeing those kids, it was the fifth person on the street that drew Hiral’s eyes. Standing firm in front of the two towering Shapers obviously trying to cow her—the kids did their best to look menacing—Nat met them gaze for gaze. Her back was to the wall, and she had blood running down the side of her face. A drop of it slipped across her jawbone, hung for a heartbeat, and then fell to join a small pool near her feet.

Before it even hit the ground, Hiral slammed into the street behind the group, the shockwave of his impact sending everybody else stumbling. The two kids in the back, since they were closest, seemed to notice him first, but even if these were the little bastards who’d called him Everfail, he had no urge to hurt them.

Well, not tooooo badly.

Instead, he activated Double Trouble and unleashed Intimidate on them. Barely even E-Rank—and with the enhanced power of the ability—the kids’ eyes rolled back into their heads, and they dropped unconscious like their strings had been cut. The two Shapers—High-D-Rank, according to View—fared only slightly better. They staggered out to the sides, eyes wide and jaws slack. Fear etched every corner of their faces while they stared at him wordlessly.

Less than worried about them, all of Hiral’s attention was on Nat. She looked at him like he was a strange man in black who’d seemingly fallen out of the sky in front of her. Fair. He pulled the hood of his coat back, and the girl just blinked at him.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Ah, no hair or tattoos. Maybe she doesn’t…?

“Hiral?” she asked quietly, tears rimming her eyes.

“Everfail?” one of the Shapers asked at the same time, only a split second before WHOMP.

Right’s punch neatly folded the man in half and hurled him to crash into the building on Nat’s left. Cracks spiderwebbed out along the stone from the collision, and the man splayed out like he’d been flattened against the wall.

Nat didn’t even glance at him. Nor did she twitch as Left landed a second later, a leg sweep and quick combo dropping the second Shaper with barely a sound.

“Is it really you?” she asked, voice weak. Her hands wiped her eyes—accidently smearing the blood—and she blinked like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“It’s me, and you still ugly-cry,” Hiral said, stepping forward and opening his arms.

“I do not,” she croaked. Then she ran forward and buried her head against his chest.

“It’s good to see you, Nat,” Hiral said, wrapping his little sister in a tight hug. He let her sob gently against him, her shoulders rising and falling with each sniffle. After thirty seconds, he quietly said, “The coat has a self-repair function, but I’m not sure about a self-cleaning feature. Try not to snot too much on it.”

“But it’s so soft, like the best tissue ever,” she said, her face clearly swiping sideways across his chest. “And it’s got glowy bits. Who is your tailor?”

“Long story,” Hiral said, pushing Nat back to arm’s length so he could get a good look at her. The blood running down the side of her face came from a nasty scrape on the side of her head. Thankfully, that seemed to be the worst of it. The puffy eyes and red cheeks were from the crying, though she did have a split lip too.

Hiral took her chin in his hand and carefully twisted her face to the side so he could get a better look at the injury. “How’d this happen?”

Nat’s eyes darted to the unconscious Shaper a few feet from them.

Anger flamed bright in his chest, and a snap of his hand—along with a pulse of Rejection—mixed with Expansion and Impact to hurl the man into the wall with an audible crack. He even took a step after the Shaper, but Nat put herself between him and the slumped man on the ground.

“What… How did you do that?” Then there were new tears in her eyes. “Did… did you finally… your tattoos?” she asked, voice cracking with barely contained hope.

Hiral glared another long second at the Shaper, letting his anger fizzle out, then turned to his sister with a quirked smile. “Nope. Still couldn’t shape a tattoo if my life depended on it.”

“Oh. Hiral, I’m… I’m sorry,” Nat said, reaching out to stroke his arm—or maybe it was just to run her hands down the fabric of his coat.

“He can shape for me, though,” Hiral said, thumbing over at Left.

“For you…?” Nat asked, looking over at Left as the double lowered his hood.

“Hello, Nat,” Left said, a smile mirroring Hiral’s splitting his face.

Nat’s eyes went wide, and her head snapped in Right’s direction. With both of their hoods down, she now found herself looking at three versions of her brother, and there were obviously a dozen questions running through her head.

“It’s a long story,” Hiral said to cut her off. “These guys are Left and Right, and they’re me. Sort of.”

Nat looked at each of the doubles once more, then started chuckling. “And somebody let you name them?”

“How do you know I…?”

“Hamster-1, Hamster-2, and Hamster-3?” Nat interrupted.

“We were kids. Numbering them made sense…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nat said, wrapping her arms around his chest again. “I’m just glad you’re back. Wait. You are you, aren’t you? You’re not… Middle? Or Central? Or something like that?”

“We should start calling him Behind,” Right offered.

“Now look what you’ve started,” Hiral said. “What are you doing out here anyway, Nat? I thought you were being held at the Amphitheatre?”

Nat shook her head against his chest again—or maybe it was another nose wipe. “No, I was at school when everything started. The teachers hid us when those bastards came looking. I heard Mom and Milly are there, so I snuck out to go looking for them.”

“And what were you going to do if and when you got there?” he asked more harshly than he’d intended.

“I don’t know, but somebody had to do something. You were dead…” She trailed off, the fire leaving her reply. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m not, and I’m here now. I’ll get Mom and Milly out.”

“We will get them out,” Nat said.

“Nat, it’s not safe…”

“Which is why you need me to keep you out of trouble.”

“Trouble is exactly what I’m looking to go start,” Hiral said.

“You know that look on her face,” Right said. “She’s coming whether you want her to or not.”

“I can stick her to the street with Attraction,” Hiral pointed out.

“I don’t know what that means, but I feel like I should be insulted by it,” Nat said. “You need me, though. While you’re causing trouble, I’ll get Mom, Milly, and the others out.”

“And where will you take them?” Hiral asked.

“Back to the school where I was hiding. There’s plenty of space.”

Hiral considered her suggestion—it did solve the problem of what he’d do with the hostages after he rescued them. Finally, he nodded.

“Okay. But we’ve got to hurry, so Right’s going to carry you piggyback until we get there.” Hiral pointed at his double, who crouched in waiting for Nat.

“What?” Nat said, crossing her arms. “Maybe you missed it, but I’m big enough to walk by myself.”

“Walk, yes. Keep up? No.” Hiral then pointed at the storm wall visible in the distance. “We’re on a timer. Get on Right’s back. Oh, and hold on.”

“Really?”

“Nat, please.”

Nat blinked once, then, seeming to decide she trusted him enough not to question anymore, she walked over and climbed onto Right’s back.

“This may sound strange, coming from somebody you’ve never met, but it’s good to see you again,” Right said as Nat got comfortable.

“Thanks,” Nat said. “Are you really… part of him?”

“His better part,” Right said, smiling at her over his shoulder. “Seriously, though, hold on.”

“Why do you guys keep saying thaaaaaat…!?” Nat’s voice rose in pitch as all three versions of Hiral launched into the air and up onto the nearest roof.

The next second, they were racing across the distance to the Amphitheatre of the Sun, forgoing stealth in the quiet streets for speed.