Chapter 20: Chapter 20

“What is this?”

“We found it in Sera’s room,” he explained as his sister pulled the phone out of his hand and closer to her face. “As soon as I saw it, I knew I recognized it, but I didn’t know why. It must be because of the runes engraved at the top.”

“This is a Celtic cross,” Cinder explained. “You should be able to decipher the writing now that you know the origin.”

Without losing any time, Cutter sent a picture of the cross and Cinder’s sketch to Lyric, along with a message indicating where he thought she should look. “Thanks, Sis,” he said, hitting send. “I think you may’ve done more in the last few minutes to decipher this riddle than we have in weeks.”

“Nah,” Cinder replied, waving him off and sliding back on the sofa away from her sketch. “You would’ve figured it out. Eventually.”

“The only problem is, there’s no way to see what was originally etched in Ru’s back, is there?”

“What makes you think it was anything important?” Cinder asked. “Most of us aren’t born with messages in our backs.”

“No, but her grandmother seemed to think there was a message from God buried there.”

“Of course she would,” Cinder replied, dismissively. “All grandmothers think there’s something special about their grandkids. I’m sure it was nothing unusual until Sera or Larkin or whoever made it into something more than it was.”

Cutter nodded, but he wasn’t sure he accepted that explanation. “Do you think they carved the message into her as soon as she was born then? Otherwise, why name her Rune?”

“Who knows?” Cinder replied as if it wasn’t important. “I say, take this one step at a time. If this message leads you to Sera, you’ll get your answers in due time.”

She was right about that. If anyone knew what had happened to Ru, it was Sera. Hopefully, Lyric would be able to track her down now that they knew what they were looking for. “I have another question,” Cutter said, peering into his sister’s pale blue eyes.

“What’s that?” she asked, still leaning back on the sofa nonchalantly.

With a deep breath, Cutter began his explanation. “Whenever we got close to the portal the other night—at least I think we were close—Ru began to experience some pretty intense stomach pains. I know it could’ve just been anxiety, but I think there might’ve been something more. Have you ever heard of anything like that happening before?”

Cinder’s face became paler than usual as Cutter spoke, and her eyes widened just a bit. Her reaction to his question certainly revealed she had experience with such a response, but she began to shake her head before he even finished his question. “No, I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before. That’s strange. Must be… nerves.”

Cutter wasn’t about to let her get away with that response, not when he could see that she knew something more, but before he had the opportunity to ask her more, noise on the stairs caught his attention, and he turned to see Ru descending. Her hair was a bit messy, as if she’d laid down on it and hadn’t bothered to fix it, but as usual, the sight of her made his breath catch. “Hi, Ru.”

“Hi,” she said, a shy smile forming on her face. “Sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“No problem,” he said, standing. “Did you get some rest?”

“A little.” She crossed over to where they were sitting, running her hand through her hair, her eyes fixed on the sofa behind him.

“Ru, this is my sister, Cinder.”

Cinder popped up, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ru.”

She shook the offered hand, but the timidity in her eyes was still there. “You, too,” she said. “I hope I didn’t take your room or anything.”

“Oh, no. Mine is at the end of the hall,” Cinder replied, plopping back down onto the couch.

Ru nodded, a puzzled expression on her face, and Cutter braced himself to answer the question he’d been avoiding since they arrived. But before Ru could ask about whose room she was actually staying in, her eyes flickered to the sketch on the table. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Well, I uh, was just looking at the markings on your back,” Cinder replied, picking up the paper and handing it to her. “I think there are actually two layers.” Cutter stared at his sister intently, and even though she looked up at him, her eyes didn’t linger long before flickering back to Ru. “I think this is the actual message the team needs to decipher.”

“Wait,” Ru said, studying the paper intently. “Isn’t this….”

“Yes,” Cutter interrupted. “It’s the same as the writing on the cross, the one your mother drew.”

Ru stared at Cinder’s writing intently. Without looking away, she asked, “Can I see the picture you took?”

Cutter pulled it up on his phone and showed it to her. It was a strain for her to pull her eyes away but eventually she managed. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know, but Lyric might have answers for us soon.”

Nodding, Ru eventually set the paper down on the coffee table and handed Cutter back his phone. Her eyes seemed reluctant to leave the paper, and he couldn’t blame her. “I’m not sure I understand how you got this message, though,” Ru said slowly. She looked at Cinder. “This doesn’t look exactly like my scars.”

Cutter took a deep breath and caught Cinder’s eyes briefly before turning to Ru, realizing the information would be better coming from him. “Cinder thinks… we think… there’s a possibility there actually are two sets of scars on your back.”

Her forehead knit together. “What? How is that possible?” Ru asked. “I couldn’t have been born with scars twice.” Before he could formulate a response, the answer occurred to her. “Do you think Sera really did carve something into me?” The look of disgust marred her pretty face, and Cutter hated to be the one to tell her. He knew how badly she was hoping that Sera would be the mother she’d always dreamed of having.

“There’s a possibility it was someone else,” Cinder said, her voice even and quiet. “We won’t know for sure until we find Sera. And I think this will help us find her, now that we know where to look.”

“Cinder believes this is a Celtic cross.”

“I know it is,” she corrected. “Lyric will have an answer soon. I’m sure of it.”

“Great,” Ru said, leaning back sharply. “Then, we can track down the mother that maimed me before she abandoned me.” Her voice was quiet, and she began to chew on the side of her thumb.

“Ru, we don’t know that. Let’s wait and hear her out.” He hoped he sounded reassuring, but the waiver in his voice was unconvincing, even to him.

“Yep,” Ru said, her distress building. “I guess that’s easy for you to say. Your parents are amazing.”

Cutter was a little shocked; he’d never heard Ru say anything quite so hurtful. Though under the circumstances, he couldn’t blame her. He knew it wasn’t fair to judge her for being envious of what might seem like a perfect life from her perspective. She had yet to learn of the tragedy that had shattered his existence, and the only real reason she didn’t know yet was because no one in his family was brave enough to discuss it.

Before he could even reply, she said, “I’m sorry. That was so rude. I guess I’m just… jealous. It’s not your fault I wasn’t brought up here like the rest of you.” She reached out and patted him on the leg, and at her touch, any bit of ill feelings he could’ve scraped together melted away.

“It’s okay,” Cutter assured her as she pulled her hand away. “I don’t blame you for being upset. But I don’t think you should be too upset at Sera, not at this point anyway.”

“It could’ve been Larkin,” Cinder offered.

“Right.” Ru’s response didn’t sound very resounding. “So, what do we do next?”

“Honestly, until Lyric comes up with a direction, I think you need to jump back into the ringer with Nat. He’s been wreaking a lot of havoc these past few days, and while none of it’s in your home state, he’s still up to no good.”

Once again, Ru looked surprised. She stared at Cinder for a moment before turning her attention to Cutter. “He has?”

“Maybe not him, but his minions anyway,” he confirmed.

Sighing, Ru muttered, “I wish I had a way of knowing all of this information the way that you guys do.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Cinder replied. “It’s not easy hearing the details about the deaths of the unmarked souls you’re trying to protect.”

Ru nodded, but she didn’t seem to agree. Cutter interjected. “Once the Archs get to know you, it will be easier for you to be contacted. I didn’t want to tell you right now because I knew you had a lot on your mind.”

“But I might be able to reach him,” Ru said, her voice revealing both irritation and impatience. “If I can get Thanatos to speak to me again, maybe we can set him up. Maybe I can lure him in and then….”

Cinder laughed, and Ru stopped speaking abruptly, her blue eyes penetrating through his sister’s skull. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice. It’s just… Nat would see that a million miles away.”

“He might not. He didn’t know Cutter was there the first time we all met in my dreams.”

“I’m sure he did,” Cinder argued.

“No, he didn’t.” Ru looked to Cutter for support, and he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Uh, he might’ve. It’s hard to say.” Playing dumb was the only thing he could honestly do. He assumed Nat had had at least some idea he was nearby, even if he didn’t know for sure that Cutter was monitoring Ru’s activity at the time. “But I don’t think it will work again.”

With a humph, Ru crossed her arms. “Okay, well, maybe we can just hunt him down, then.”

“I don’t think Nat is your target right now. Get Raven or someone sloppier. See what the plan is.” Cinder seemed confident in her suggestion, but Ru continued to size her up with her gaze, as if she had no idea why they were taking advice from this person who hadn’t been involved up to this point. He’d given her no explanation of his sister’s expertise, after all.

“Zu hasn’t given us enough information. I think we need Thanatos.” Ru’s voice trailed off, as if she was just thinking aloud.

Cinder shrugged, a gesture Cutter was very familiar with. “Hell, what do I know?” she asked, pulling herself to her feet. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you could get Azrael himself if you looked hard enough.” The sarcasm was dripping from his sister’s voice, and he was about to say something to her, cautioning her to calm down, but she was headed toward the kitchen. “What do I know, chicka? I’ve only been doing this for a couple of decades.” Cinder smiled at Ru, as if she wanted to make sure the newbie was aware of her cynicism, and then she left the room.

Ru said nothing for a very long time, her eyes lingering on the doorway where Cinder had disappeared. Eventually, she turned back to face front, though she still said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Cutter said quietly. “She, uh, isn’t much of a mentor, but she’s a hell of a tracker.”

“Good at deciphering, too, I hope.” Ru still wouldn’t look at him.

“Yeah, she really is just trying to help.”

“I know.” Ru exhaled deeply. “And I really have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“I wouldn’t say that….”

“No, it’s true. I don’t. I just feel compelled to reach out to him. It’s as if he knows something, and he wants to tell me, but I have to find him. Does that make sense?” She finally turned to look at him, and behind her blue eyes he could see a pain he only recognized because he saw it in his own reflection whenever he caught himself in the mirror thinking of her.

“Ru… Nat isn’t Kyle.” The words were quiet, careful, yet her reaction seemed near explosion, and he immediately regretted making the statement.

“I know that, Cutter!”

“I just meant….”

“No, you don’t have to explain. I’m not looking for Kyle. I just think….” She let out a sigh of frustration, bent over, and ran her hands through her hair, catching it at the roots and pulling hard enough Cutter was alarmed she might actually come away with hands full of blonde tresses. When she let go, only a few strands clung to her hands. “Never mind,” she muttered, standing. “I’m going to go rest for a while.”

“Okay,” he said, quietly, not blaming her for wanting to get out of the situation. She had to be overwhelmed. He only wished he knew how to help her.

Headed toward the stairs, she called, “I’ll be in my room. The room,” and he could tell she was even frustrated about not knowing where she was staying.

That, he could alleviate, or at least remedy. “It’s Leaf’s,” he said quietly, causing her to pause on the bottom step. She turned and looked at him, and he wasn’t sure if he was making things better or worse, but at least he was being honest. “It used to be Leaf’s room. My mom changed the mattress, and the bedding. It’s his old furniture. You know—my brother—right?” He had a feeling Rider had at least mentioned to her that he’d once had a big brother. “I’ll… tell you more. Sometime.”

Ru nodded, her face drained of what color her fair skin had. “Thanks.” It was all she said before she proceeded, but it was enough to let him know that she at least appreciated him being truthful, even if it was just the tip of the iceberg. He was also appreciative of the fact that she didn’t press him for more information, at least not right now.

Cutter rested his head on the back of the sofa and tried to collect his thoughts. It seemed like everything was going wrong, and everywhere he turned, he was headed in the wrong direction. The information Cinder had given him was helpful, but destructive, and clearly Ru wasn’t ready to accept it—not that he blamed her. “What do we do now?” he muttered aloud, almost a prayer, not that he expected an answer. He knew they would be on their own unless the Archs intervened, and they didn’t seem apt to do that, not now anyway. Still, they needed something to point them in the right direction, something to let them know where to head next. If only they had some idea where Sera might be.

His phone was on vibrate, and he didn’t realize it was going off until it almost stopped. He fumbled with the slider, barely catching Lyric’s call. “Hello?”

“Lindisfarne,” she said boldly.

“What’s that?” he asked, not sure if he was supposed to know what that word meant.

“Lindisfarne,” Lyric repeated. “We need to get the team together. I think we have a location.”

He realized this strange word must have something to do with Ru’s scars. “Come on over,” he replied, and before he could say anything else, she disconnected the call. Looking up at the ceiling, Cutter mumbled, “Thank you,” to no one in particular.