Touching Rune (5 page)

Rune moaned softly as she rolled over onto her back. She was freezing! She sat up slowly and blinked to clear her vision. She woke to find herself lying on the icy cold marble floor in her beautiful but totally inappropriate nightgown.

“Great!” She mumbled as she rose on shaky legs. “Just great!” She growled out louder looking up at the stars glittering through the colored glass. She raised her fist and shook it. “You have a really lousy sense of humor! I don’t want to be here!” She yelled out,
stomping her bare foot. “Sometimes I really, really hate you.”

A cry from behind her drew her attention to an elderly man who was staring at her with wide, frightened eyes. The broom in his hands shook as he stood frozen where he had been working. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.

“Oh bother,” Rune muttered as she raised her eyes up to the ceiling again and waved her hand at the old man. “Now see what you’ve done? You can’t lay this at my feet this time. I didn’t ask to be woken. This is all on you,” she accused angrily before looking at the man who was now looking at her as if she was some sort of Goddess or something. “Definitely more of the ‘or something’,” she muttered before shivering again.

Her eyes swept the area before settling on a forgotten packing blanket on a bench a few feet from where she stood freezing her ass off. With a
muttered oath, she glared at the man before she stepped down the cold steps and grabbed the blanket. She swung it over her shoulders and wished she had a nice pair of fur-lined boots.

You could have at least dressed me for the weather,
she complained as she saw her breath in the air.

She looked at the man who was still staring at her in awed silence. Rolling her eyes, she bit back another growl of frustration. She needed to get warm or she was going to die again of hypothermia this time before she even found out what she was supposed to accomplish.

“You owe me big time for this,” she muttered under her breath. “You promised I could watch over the children.”

She had no idea who she was talking to. It wasn’t as if she ever remembered meeting anyone or anything that had caused her to be the way she was. She just knew something was out there and it had control over her. A control that she hated and fought against every time she was jerked back to the world of the living.

She had been born before Christianity had become popular and her own people had worshipped more than one God. Personally, she hadn’t believed in any of it. It had exasperated her parents, especially her mother who tried to get Rune to follow in her footsteps. Rune always had too many questions that remained unanswered for her to ‘believe’.

She briefly closed her eyes and blocked the memories. They did nothing but caused her grief. She turned her attention to the man who was following her as she walked toward what looked like a covered doorway. She glanced at the old man with a raised eyebrow and gave him a crooked smile.

“I’m cold,” she said through chattering teeth. “Fire?”

The man nodded his head and motioned for her to follow him. She turned in relief as he led her down another narrow path. Her eyes swept over the numerous plants in various degrees of life. She froze when her eyes lighted on a beautiful Christmas rose bush. It stood out against the other plants because of the deep green of the leaves and the beauty of the blood red roses in blossom covering it.

Rune walked over to the rose and tenderly touched one of the roses. She knew, just as she always did, that there was significance to the unusual plant. Her fingers caressed the bloom as she stared down into the perfection of its shape.

“Was this here before me?” She whispered to the old man.

“
Het
,” came the soft reply. “No,” he repeated in stilted English.

Tears of frustration clouded Rune’s eyes for a moment before she blinked them away and straightened her shoulders. Pulling the blanket around her tighter, she turned back to face the old man with a look of determination in her eyes.

“What is your name?” Rune asked, raising her chin to look into the warm brown eyes. “I’m called Rune.”

“And I am called Micha,” the old man replied with a look of amusement. “You come. I will get you hot tea.”

Rune’s shoulders drooped at the warm look and the sweet offer. It wasn’t the old man’s fault that she was here. It just wasn’t in her nature to be rude to someone who was innocent of any offense but kindness.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Rune replied with a rueful smile. “I’m freezing.”

“Yes, so I heard you yelling,” Micha replied with a low laugh. “My office is warm. Come,
леди
Rune.”

“Леди?” Rune asked brushing her long hair impatiently behind her ear. “What does that mean?”

“Lady,” Micha replied. “It is a sign of respect.”

“Oh,” Rune said. “So, where am I?”

“You are in the home of
Sergei Vasiliev and Dimitri Mihailov,” Micha said opening the door to a small office.

Rune groaned as heat blasted her. She scooted in and immediately walked over to a small space heater. She lifted her right foot and held her toes out in front of it, wiggling the frozen digits. The sound of a chair being rolled behind her had her smiling her thanks as she took the offering and sat down so she could raise both feet off the cold floor. Soon, a small trash can with a stack of old newspapers became a foot rest.

“Oh,” Rune moaned in pleasure as the heat began moving through her frozen limbs. “That feels so good.”

Micha laughed as he walked over to a narrow counter where a hot plate sat next to a small sink. He filled a kettle and set it on top of the hot plate before turning it on. He pulled a couple of cups down from a shelf above the sink and a silver canister that contained loose-leaf tea.

Rune watched him as he patiently fixed the tea. Her eyes wandered over the tiny room. A small, battered desk was pushed up against one wall. A calendar from the nineteen forties hung on the wall showing the month of December and an ice covered lake. A shelf on the far wall contained empty pots and bags of plant food along with books on what looked like gardening.

“Here,
миледи
,” Micha said quietly as he held a cup of steaming tea out for Rune. “Would you care for sugar or cream?”

Rune shook her head as she breathed in the hot scent of mint tea. “No, thank you. So… where exactly is this place located at?” Rune asked with a wave of her hand at the narrow window that looked out into the atrium.

Rune watched as Micha frowned as he sank slowly down into a chair that had probably been in the office as long as the calendar hanging on the wall, if Rune had to guess. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Micha hadn’t been there as well. She sighed and chided herself for being so…

Negative?
She thought before her inner conscience spoke up.
Pissed is more like it.

Okay, so she was pissed about being pulled from the one place that filled her with a sense of peace. Who could blame her? She would have been content to remain there until the end of days but no… some
one
had to pull her away and send her back again.

“You are in Russia. Just outside of Moscow,” Micha replied slowly. “Do you know where that is?”

“Well, that explains why it is so damn cold,” Rune said before she smiled ruefully at his shocked expression. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting… this,” she finished awkwardly.

There was an unspoken rule, or law, that she really couldn’t say anything about who she was or where she came from. She had never really understood how she knew that, she just did. There had only been one other time when she had unexpectedly appeared before someone. She grimaced when she remembered that time had not ended very well either. Being accused of being a witch was not a good thing when you were in the middle of a religious uprising.

Micha nodded as if he was used to seeing the statues in the atrium suddenly come to life in front of him. Rune’s mind raced as she tried to figure out what in the hell she was supposed to do now. The last time she had appeared on the steps of the orphanage and known that they needed her help. She couldn’t imagine the two irritating men who had the nerve to touch her earlier needing anything from her. They looked more than capable of taking care of any threats on their own.

“Okay,” she muttered into her cup of hot tea. “So, what do I know? I know I’m in Russia of all places. I’m in a huge, freezing mausoleum that needs a forest to heat it and I know there are two huge men who are on my shit list.”

Micha’s choked laugh pulled her from her thoughts. Rune blushed when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. She had always had a bad habit of speaking her thoughts out loud when she was trying to figure something out. It would appear she hadn’t lost that bad habit.

“Sorry,” she grinned over the rim of her cup. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“I will do everything I can to help you,
миледи,
” Micha said as he folded his hands in his lap and sat forward. “What can I do for you?”

Rune shrugged her sh
oulders causing the packing blanket to slip down and reveal one bare shoulder. She pulled it up as the cooler air around her brushed against it. She looked at Micha for several long moments before she shook her head. It was best if he was involved as little as possible. She knew the outcome of her visit. It always ended the same… with her dying in some awful, horrible way. The less she involved those around her the better, especially the old man sitting across from her. He already knew too much as it was thanks to her ‘sudden’ appearance.

“I could use some shoes and perhaps a coat or jacket if you have an extra one. Oh, and a hat,” she added as she touched her hair. “That helps keep the heat in.”

“It will be my pleasure to bring you these items, though I fear they will not fit you very well,” he replied looking at the tips of her tiny toes sticking out from under her gown where she had drawn her feet up. “I will bring extra socks to help.”

Rune grinned. “Thank you,” she said. “Micha, what is the date?” She as
ked suddenly.

“It is the second of December. It is my pleasure to help you,
миледи
,” Micha replied as he stiffly rose from his chair. “If you will wait here where it is warm while I gather the items you need. I will return shortly.”

“Micha,” Rune called ou
t quietly when he opened the door. “Please, don’t tell anyone about me being here… not yet,” she requested.

“Of course,
миледи
,” Micha responded with a bow of his head. “I will not say a word to anyone.”

“Thank you again,” Rune said before he closed the do
or.

Her eyes froze on the old calendar hanging on the wall. A shiver ran through her as one date appeared to glow on it briefly before fading. She turned her gaze back to the window of the small office. She could see the beautiful Christmas rose from where she was sitting. As she watched, one of the branches shimmered and a petal fell from it. The clock has begun. She had until midnight on Christmas Eve to figure out what she was supposed to do.

She released a shuddering breath as she understood this would be the last time for her. Succeed or fail, she would not be coming back again. Her time was finally drawing to a close. A tiny part deep inside her protested. She had never felt the touch of a lover’s hand. She had never known the joy of holding a child of her own in her arms. She had never known what it was to be loved.

Tears burned her eyes but she pushed the feeling of sadness away. Why should she wish to have those things when her older sisters and little brother never had the chance? Why should she be granted mercy and given a chance to have a life when theirs was cut short so long ago? If only she had gone to her uncle’s home like her mother insisted instead of arguing with her. If only she had listened to her mother and father. If only she had believed and not questioned every little thing that was told to her. So many if’s…

Too many to ever go back and correct,
she thought.
No, I will embrace this last time and be thankful in knowing that I did what I could to give others a chance at a life my family never had. Then, I will seek my final peace.

Her heart clenched as another petal fell softly to the ground to lay under the rosebush. She started when the door opened and Micha came in holding an old black wool coat and a fur cap. A pair of boots, several sizes too big, were clenched in his left hand while several pairs of thick wool socks were in his right. She smiled her thanks as she let the blanket fall from her shoulders as she reached for the items. She would not have much time to solve this last challenge. It was barely more than three weeks until Christmas. She pulled on several pairs of socks before sliding her narrow feet into the boots and pulling the laces as tight as she could. She stood up and reached for the hat, tucking her hair up into it, before she picked up the thick coat. She pulled it on over her thin nightgown and smiled at Micha.

“Not a fashion statement but it will keep me warm,” she said in amusement. “Thank you, my friend. I will always remember your kindness.”

“Where will you go?” Micha asked curiously as he looked down at the young woman who looked more like a child in his clothes. “It is too far for you to walk to town.”