“Did you know what would... when we...” swallowing hard, his gaze tipped up to meet hers, her eyes still closed as she boldly walked right up to him, so close they were almost touching, brushing her hand softly over the thick, unruly mass of crimson locks across his scalp.
Nuzzling into her palm, the Elemental shocked everyone, yanking the Fate to him in a steely grip, thick arms banding around her waist tight as he buried his face in her stomach. “They didn’t know,” he blurted. “They think they lost the gift of sight from Niniane’s misdeeds. I didn’t correct them. Couldn’t.”
“I know,” Lachesis whispered hoarsely.
“You think me less, Chesis?” Phaestus deep voice rumbled.
“No less than you think of me for what I’ve done.”
Fire’s face hardened and he snarled, “Your will is not your own! You have no more control over it than they do!”
“Don’t I?” she whispered, full herself, haunted.
Clothos and Atropos eyes widened as they stared at each other, Clothos nodding when Atropos held something up only her sister could see, both of them tensing as they turned to listen.
“We tempted fate once, my love,” she called quietly, emotion thick, lumping in her throat, “I do not wish to do it again?”
Head shooting up, Fire’s eyes widened. “Chesis...”
Gaining his feet, he cupped her chin, yanking her hood off to gaze into the eyes of the woman he’d fallen so completely in love with some many eons ago, gave up his leg for, his sight, his only temptation—his love.
Starting to hum again as emotion clogged her throat, Fire dropped his hands, gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise her, and gave her small frame a good shake. “Don’t you give over, Chesis! Don’t you dare! Come back, now!” The growl in his voice brought her back as he glared down into her closed off expression. “And dammit, look at me!”
Lips trembling, Lachesis hiccuped, “I can’t.” Opening her eyes slowly, glazed over and completely white, unseeing as her lover gazed down at her, heart in his throat, her fingers reached out to him, clutching at his bared chest. “The corners lost the gift of sight, my fiery one, when you took on my punishment for our forbidden child, but I lost mine, to keep the monster that hurt her leashed.”
Clothos and Atropos had no idea of any of this. They’d known Lachesis had lost her vision, just not how. The quietest at times, when in her own mind, she would speak not a word of it. And Phedaenya, their child? They hadn’t a clue.
Dipping low, Phaestus pressed his forehead to hers, rumbling quietly, “We were not to intervene, or I would have done much worse than anything you could have thought up.”
“We punished her, you know, by giving her over to them. We were wrong, thinking her in better hands with mortals. They’d no idea the gem they possessed, and I’d already intervened once, I was not given the freedom to... Barred... I was not given a chance to choose to, if I so wished it, until later, until... after she’d spelled her curse.”
“And that is why we could no longer interfere,” Phaestus muttered quietly, anger seeping into every low spoken word.
“She is gem to an Ornthren,” Lachesis said after a long moment, “he values her above all. I do not regret turning a blind eye to Atropos’ and Niniane’s plotting, and I know you’d meant well when you’d reluctantly agreed to go along. How could you have known?”
Atropos eyes widened, but she held her silent tongue.
“Do not hate me so too,” Lachesis begged of Death, head craning to gaze in her direction, “free will reigns over all, and I am left to watch as you choose your path. I am forever grateful, though, as much as it is worth to you.”
Nodding slowly, in understanding, Atropos tilted her head a little, catching Clothos’ eye.
“Will she hate us, do you think?” Lachesis sniffled, stroking the Elemental’s long, red beard as he pressed his lips gently to hers, tugging her closer. Lifting her clean up off her feet to pull her to him tight, she sighed as all that hot skin brushed against hers, a furnace, even with the thick material of her billowing cape between them.
Unable to hold back a moment longer, Fire took her lips ruthlessly, tasting her desperately. “A leg is nothing, I’d pay that price and much more, take all your punishments, if I could, to love you... I’d die for you,” he murmured huskily.
“And I you,” his love whispered back.
“We were sort of counting on that,” Clothos called from off to their side, much closer than one would have thought, considering what they were doing. Shrugging helplessly as Atropos dealt the blow, jamming the lengthened needle, long as a sword, right through Phaestus’ middle, into his belt—his tether—angling it upward, and right into Lachesis. The long end protruded from the middle Fate’s back as she gasped, shrieking, clawing at Fire as he bellowed out in shocked pain.
Gripping each other so hard their nails dug into one another’s flesh, they both cried out, faces creasing in agony.
As Clothos and Atropos watched on, Lachesis forced her sightless eyes open, chest heaving, and smiled slowly up at her siblings.
“Thank you,” she garbled out on a gurgling breath, before it became too difficult to speak, tears streaming down her cheeks as her head shot back, body bowing.
Holding a hand out to Clothos as the Elemental’s legs gave out and he fell to his knees, clutching his beloved to him tight as his powers bled from him, her life force from hers, the bookend sisters wrapped two threads, one glowing vibrant red, the other white and shimmering, around them, tying it off as they tipped them to their sides.
“Why?” Phaestus managed to gasp out as blood bubbled from his lips.
Lachesis may have figured what they were up to already, but Fire sure didn’t.
“Some are meant to be one. She would not have survived the loss of you. Find her on the flipside,” Clothos murmured cryptically, eyeing their blood as it pooled, deep blue and red swirling with silver, mixing together. Her lips tipped up at Lachesis silly words, warming to the ridiculous Earth phrase.
Pulling her scissors out, Atropos ripped a seam in the fabric of this plane wide open, cutting out a slow circle around them as she mouthed her question to Clothos. ‘How does one send others to Earth?’
“I don’t know,” Clothos shrugged helplessly as her eyes kept darting to Fire and Lachesis’ writhing, entwined bodies. Even now, they held tight to one another, clinging in death and in life. “That is Lachesis’ job. Think it, I’ll do the magicks, roll them in, and we’ll hope for the best.
Nodding, Atropos walked around them, dropped to her knees, and did as instructed as Clothos shouted, “To Earth!” and they both shoved them into the black pit she’d just made.
Poofing in a shower of shockingly red dust and white smoke, the sisters closed the portal, sealing it shut, and immediately clutched at each other, bereft at the loss of their sibling.
“It’s okay, you know,” Clothos murmured quietly, pulling back. “I know what you’re going to do, and it’s alright.”
‘You cursed Magda, didn’t you?’ Atropos signed.
Shrugging, the spinner glanced away. “Maybe. Either way, she won’t be stealing any more magicks anytime soon, no one the wiser.” Lips tipping up in a small smirk, she chuckled. “We’ll just say, I put her away, but made sure to give her company.”
Atropos’ eyes lit, thinking of the lake, and they danced. Meeting Clothos’ gaze, she knew.
Just as fast, though, they fell.
Brushing her fingers over her sister’s hood, right where her ears should be, she mouthed, ‘You gave your ears for my Vidi.’
“Meh. Those old things? They were ugly anyways,” the spinner muttered, lips quirking up in one corner as she rolled her eyes. “Overrated, really. This way, all I had to do was watch Lachesis when she gave over, instead of listening to her insistent humming, as well.”
Standing up to pace back a ways, Atropos held the needle out in front of herself, motioning her sister forward. ‘What dimension should
we weather?’
“Together?” the pain in Clothos’ eyes lifted, and Atropos smiled one of her full, rare smiles.
‘Of course. Did you think I would be reborn without a partner in crime?’
“Well, if you put it that way... would it not be fitting to have all three?”
Both women smiled slowly, knowingly, lips widening until they were grinning like mad women, opening a seam to stand before it. Shortening the needle, they both took a deep breath.
“Being mortal is going to hurt,” Clothos muttered.
‘Living always does,’ Atropos signed, ‘but the journey will be well lived,’ climbing inside. Holding onto the side, she waited until Clothos did the same. Slicing their hands open, they both healed their seam, until only their fingertips poked through, hanging onto this world by the tips of their fingers.
“I’m ready!” Clothos shouted as the other world called to them, ready to suck them right in.
Nodding, Atropos set the needle and Clothos jumped towards her. Piercing them as they hugged and let go, they both immediately shattered into a million brilliantly colored pieces, like shimmering shades of a rainbow in a prism, glittering the Earth sky, as they sped towards it, showering the clear, midnight atmosphere with a thousand twinkling lights, spreading generously across it.
Balls of burning gas millions of miles away, they say? Or two Fates reborn?
The End, Though Not Quite
Want more tales of Hegtrag and all the realms attached? Humans and all those Other mixing? The Cursed series, more to come soon, is where to get your fix.
Periodically, I will also be doing short novellas, peeks into Under, The Hill, and Hearthe.
Want to know more about the Elementals and where they ended up? Coming soon: The Elementals series.
Bonus Short
“Brother-cousins”
The barn door creaked and I poked my head inside. Though it was still light out, I crept in and closed the door as quietly as possible. Making myself comfortable in a fresh pile of hay in the loft, I waited.
A calf bawled from somewhere below me, crying out for its mother, but I studiously ignored it.
Was it odd that a man of my age was hiding from his family? I gave a little mental shrug. Maybe. But it wouldn’t stop me.
Grandah had said Ma and Pa were cursed, they all were, that it drove Pa crazy, until he’d wandered off one day and never returned. Ma thought he took off on her, on account of she’s so hideous, but I had a feeling, if anything, that wasn’t the case.
If he was really going to leave her, I thought, it would be because she’s so selfish.
Fingering her favored ruby necklace, I couldn’t muster any real guilt or shame about the theft. She’d taken so much, I saw no reasoning why I couldn’t put a claim on this one measly bit.
I’d been planning to run off years ago, but hadn’t a place to go, or the courage to leave. This year, though, I’d found an out, and I was going to take it.
The woods would be the best path to take, but I hadn’t a decent light, or the means to navigate.
They say the Lux was haunted, but I’d been to the lake, the Lady’s Lake. Queasiness always rushed over me whenever I tried to peer beneath the watery depths of what once had been a large pond. For some unknown reason, it had expanded years ago, before I’d been born, as if the ground had sunken in, naturally making for room for it to fill, almost like magic. It was a grave or something, I just knew it. Someone, or something, is or was stuck down there.
They say you can feel a person’s loss keenly, and though he’d been gone since I was a small little thing, too young to remember him really, I always felt as if Pa was somehow still alive. He doesn’t feel dead, just gone, if that makes any sense. But how could that be so? Another curse, maybe?
No. I shook it off. He’s gone. Best let sleeping dogs lie.
Unless... No. Couldn’t be. And after all this time, how could he have survived down there? Eh, no. Impossible.
“Dame? Damian?” Grandah shouted, voice as clear as a bell. Eyes widening, I burrowed into the pile underneath me, holding perfectly still. My large frame, much like my father’s, or so I’m told, was hard enough to camouflage, let alone beneath a pile of straw. “You in here, boy?”
The sound of steady footsteps as they approached, had me biting my lip. The barn door creaked open slowly and I heard him shuffle inside.
“Damian? Damey-boy, you in here?”
Frozen in place, I held tight.
“Look,” he said after a long moment, “you know you don’t have to say yes to the lass. You can always tell your ma no.” After a short pause, he chuckled. “Mm. Forget I said anything. I know your ma. Maybe this way is best.” A long sigh blasted through his lips and he clucked his tongue. “I’ll leave a bit of coin in a sack for you by the door. I’ll put a bit of extras in it too, you know, just in case.”
When I didn’t answer, he cleared his throat hard. “You always were a good boy, Damian. Remind me of your... of your...” His voice hitched but he forced himself to continue, “Of your aunt.”
I’d heard of her, my mother’s sister Daphedaenya, but not much. Everyone said she was a witch, casting spells on unsuspecting people, siccing her troll on them to gobble them up. Though I knew most of that to be hogwash, it took me aback. He thinks I’m like her?
“She was a good girl, and I think we took advantage of her, didn’t appreciate her as we shoulda. You... you’re a good boy, grandson, and I hope I’ve changed my ways. I... I wish you luck.” About to step out, the door creaking as it shifted open, he murmured, “I wish you happiness, most of all, son. Don’t you worry about us any, you hear? I’m more spry than I used to be, and I can mind things just fine. These old bones aint up to quittin’ just yet, so you go and get you some. Find a bit of happiness for me, for you.”
“Thank you,” I called from my hiding spot.
A deep chuckle left grandah’s throat as my head popped up and I peered at him from over the edge.
An older yet youthful face, set in craggy laugh lines, surrounded by a thick thatch of red hair atop his head, finished off with small but wide, watery blue eyes, full of life, met mine.
‘A curse is not always a bad thing,’ he’d say, when I asked him why he seemed to be getting younger and younger, instead of old like grandmother. Giving himself over, grandah had said, made his insides shine, the curse making sure his heart shone throughout. I had to believe him, since Ma was so nasty, and she looked so old.
“I don’t guess I’ll be seeing much of you, eh?” he said sadly, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks, his thick, hardworking calloused hands rubbing across his chin.
“No,” I admitted without any hesitation. My mother was not going to dictate my life for a moment longer. Tonight, if all goes right, I’d be a free man. Well, uh... sort of, I corrected.
The Bridge Over Kellerman’s Pond
Necklace in hand, I plunked down on top of the newly redone bridge, trying to figure out my next move. The water had long dried up, but the big ditch left behind was too much to ask the more dainty sorts to cross. It looked good enough a place as any to have a bit of a rest.
I had a long journey ahead, and the rest stops would be few and far between. Sleeping in the woods was my best likely option, especially if I was to travel all the way to the sword master’s village for my apprenticeship. Fingering the coins and the necklace in my pocket, along with the one grandah had added to the bag, I might just have enough to get there. However long that would take.
“A toll,” a deep, snarly voice rumbled, shaking the entire bridge in its wake.
Shooting up, I whirled around, gulping hard when I got a good look at the interloper’s face.
A troll. Thick orange eyebrows and a long, flat nose, set in a wide, granite hard grey face, eyes a blazing electric blue, I blinked over at him, dumbfounded, my hands going to my own thick mop of orange, the same as grandah’s, yet so similar to this strange creature’s, fingering the lids of my o
wn wide blue eyes.
“A toll!” the deep voice boomed, slamming a meaty fist down along the top railing.
Digging into my pocket as the wood rattled and shook, I whipped out the coin purse, dropping my necklaces in the process, holding it up and out for his perusal. Hunching down at the same time, we almost knocked heads as I went to retrieve my trinkets.
Snatching them up and clutching them to my chest with my free hand, I thrust the coin purse towards his thick chest.
I never was one for fits or starts, no matter the situation, even if this one might have warranted it.
Seeing a troll was exhilarating to me, and a thousand questions bubbled up in my throat.
“Here,” I barked, making to step boldly towards him. Would his skin feel like sandpaper? They’re really real!
Sniffing the air a few times, inhaling deeply as I picked up my sack and made to cross the other side, a wide, thick fingered hand pressed into my chest.
“Who be ye, human?”
Grunting at the sudden barrier holding me back, I blinked, glancing down at his hand.
Watching me, he slowly pulled it back. “Asked ye a question, human.”
Human—he’d spat the word viciously.
“Oh, uh, me?” Stupidly, I poked myself in the chest. “Oh, I’m Damian.”
“What say? Demon?” Another deep voice grumbled, joining the other.
Another lumbering troll, bigger than the last, joined him. I had to do a double take at all the bright orange hair, once more fingering my own. The resemblance was uncanny.
Blinking down at me with blazing orange eyes as he fingered the short hair atop his head in a mimicry of my own, the second troll grunted. “Look, Beast, a wee demon.”
“Damian. But, aye, wee demon, he be.”
“What’s that, then?”
Fingering the clasp of the locket, I held it out for them to see. “It’s my mother’s, but she didn’t want it, so grandah gave it to me.”
The Toll Page 55