Rune and Ruin

22 - Murder

391 B.C.E. - The Ruins of the Acerian City of Caere, Coast of the Tasurian Peninsula, Spring, Eve of the Month of Lunius

Falx

"I don't care if Rune burns," I snarl in Tems's face as I tighten my fist over his throbbing jugular, "but where else could our female be?"

His fingers tighten on my throat. "Why would the gods take her there? To a dying city?"

"A goddess of death, of grief, would take her there."

"Papa."

"Papa is arguing with Papa T right now, little warrior," Quintus tells Leda, bouncing our tiny female in his arms thrice her size. We've struggled to put her down in the last day and a half, as if the gods will snatch our daughter away from us, too.

"I won't help Rune," Tems snaps his fangs in my face, stubborn to the end.

"And if the shapers get their hands on her? What then?" I growl back and deliver a punishing blow to his scale-protected side with my free hand, then lash him across the back with my tail.

Tems howls in fury and frustration. His tail isn't barbed as mine is. An advantage I like to push when he's acting like a prissy little female. "Ask the gods again!" he spits in frustration.

"Paqu?"

"Yes, little cabbage?"

"Papa, Papat being bad."

"They forget that while they argue, we aren't effective," Quintus explains patiently.

"Find Mama?"

"Yes, tiny onion."

It's a discussion that Quintus and Leda have been having for the past half hour as Tems rages and argues like an ill-bred hatchling.

"We have to search Caere again," Tems insists. "She must be in the ruins."

"The sea-demon told us she was taken," I remind him. "And belators are crawling over every crumbled speck of dust in the ruins. Even the females have joined the search."

"So, you want to take the warriors away? Quit the search and go to war?" Tems yells.

"War is here, Tems! I won't hide from it!"

"And so, the great Fyrrin Warlord rides to Rune's rescue!"

"I am not rescuing Rune!" I bellow.

"That's what you've suggested!"

"If I rule this land, then no one can hide Thania from me!" my words are so loud, my confession, my obsession with owning everything Thania has ever and may ever touch, it makes the walls shake.

Then I realize it's another tremor. This one is harder and lasts longer, just like the one that caused the sea to recede weeks ago.

"Damn the gods' eyes," Tems whispers harshly as we race outside. Our breath is ragged breaths, leaving our mouths in huffs of smoke.

Caere trembles. Crashes in the distance mingle with closer cries of panic and fear. I rush to the cliff's edge, peering into the night sky to see if the water is churning below. White froth crashes against the stone cliffs below, but the water does nothing further.

"Make sure we are all at higher ground," I command the closest belators. "Call for evacuation. Everyone comes to the Mount."

"The sea remains," Quintus murmurs at my side.

"Falx? You have Leda?" my mother calls out, hurrying toward me with her hair half-dressed. Looking older than I've ever seen him, Marcus follows in her footsteps.