The Moirai

by Ali Winters

  “So, what does this coin mean?” he asked with some trepidation.

  He looked up to Hades holding a small rounded cup out to him. “Drink,” he ordered.

  So that question too would go unanswered.

  Kain stuffed the coin into his pocket and took the cup. He gazed into the dark liquid and lifted it to his mouth, then drank deeply. It tasted a little salty, but otherwise clean.

  When he finished, Hades was already several yards away. Kain held the cup out.

  “Hey!” he called. Then he blinked. Once. Twice. The cup vanished. Kain looked around helplessly, with only the endless riverbank for company. He lifted his hands, cupping them to his mouth, “What do I do with the… coin?” But Hades had already disappeared before he could finish speaking.

  Deflated, Kain dropped his arms.

  “I guess I’ll figure it out myself then,” he muttered under his breath.

  He picked up a rock and chucked it across the water. It skidded across the surface three times before sinking.

  Kain took the coin from his pocket and looked at it again. Hades had left him without a word of what his punishment was to be. Perhaps this was it? A hundred years, or a thousand, standing on the shore, just waiting until he was ushered to what he’d spend the rest of eternity doing. As mind numbingly dull as it sounded, it was better than the other options his mind could cook up.

  He bent down and picked up another rock, this time trying to get the perfect angle. It skidded five times before it vanished into the fog. He went to grab another when he heard a clunk of stone striking wood. Kain straightened and peered into the haze.

  A shadow danced where he’d lost sight of the rock. The fog seemed to spread, closer and closer toward where he stood on the shore. Kain blinked as the form slowly emerged and took shape. The figure was covered from head to foot in a black cloak. Whoever it was pushed a small boat through the water with a pole.

  The man reached the shore impossibly fast for the effort he put into moving it along. The boat stopped a few yards away from the shore as if someone held it in place. Water lapped against the wood in a gentle, sleepy rhythm, but the figure didn’t move.

  “Hello?”

  The cloaked man regarded him from inside the shadows of his hood. “I am Kharon.”

  Kain palmed the coin, squeezing it in his fist.

  “You will come with me.”

  So he wouldn’t be stuck on this shore for a hundred years or an eternity… It was something of a relief. But the tone in which the ferryman spoke did nothing to ease the feeling of dread growing within him.

  “Come, now,” Kharon ordered when he didn’t move.

  Just as Kain was inches from setting foot in the shallow part of the river, Kharon held up a hand. “Coin,” he stated simply.

  Kain flipped it to him and Kharon caught it with a deft motion, then pocketed it.

  A thin plank formed from the side of the boat and imbedded itself into the gravely shore. Kain hesitated for a heartbeat and Kharon motioned for him to board. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to get on, though it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do. Fighting whatever this afterlife was seemed pointless. So he stepped onto the plank and boarded the vessel.

  As soon as both feet were inside, it began moving. Kain quickly sat to avoid falling overboard. He tried talking but Kharon stayed silent as he moved the pole, guiding the boat through the water.

  Eventually, Kain gave up and contented himself with looking around. The shore faded behind them, swallowed by darkness. Leaving him with nothing but whatever shapes he could see in the fog. It was a good thing he was already dead, or he would have died of boredom.

  The river was wide and they were moving at a snail’s pace. Kain crossed his arms on the edge of the boat, resting his chin on top, and peered into the water. A soft moaning, much like a melody, floated up, so quiet it was almost drowned out by the lapping water.

  Shapes moved through the depths. Kain never would have guessed fish would be in a river in the Underworld, but he watched them flit around, growing more and more dense as they continued. One swam close to the boat, brushing against the bottom, causing it to list from side to side.

  Kain sat up, barely managing to miss getting hit by the splash of water. They became more frequent—though not nearly as strong as the first.

  When the boat steadied, he continued to scrutinize. Then he saw something that made him lean closer, his hands gripping the trim, pressing hard into the wood. It was a little distorted but he could have sworn he’d seen a face. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again.

  The water was clear.

  He let out a slow breath and was about to lean back when an unmistakable, human face floated by.

  Kain watched in horror as more and more faces came into view, their wailing growing louder and louder. Hands reached up, pleading and begging him to save them.

  He pried one of his hands from the edge of the boat and reached toward the water.

  How horrible it would be to be unable to get out, to be trapped under water, even in death. Images of these souls drowning over and over, reliving the same horrifying moments again and again flashed through his mind.

  If he could save them…

  One followed their vessel, its face taking on familiar features as it ventured closer to the surface. Light blue eyes stared back, a pale face with soft pink lips, surrounded by a halo of moon white hair.

  Nivian?

  “I wouldn’t touch them if I were you.” Kharon’s icy voice halted his hand.

  Kain narrowed his eyes at the Ferryman’s back. “And why not? If I can save one, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

  Kharon chuckled low. “Only if you don’t mind trading places with them.” He continued guiding the boat with slow, even movements. “It is not your fate to be in this river, young Hunter.”

  Kain snatched his hand away and leaned back against the stern, keeping as far from the edge as he could manage.

  He’d become mesmerized by them. Had he really thought he’d seen Nivian?

  Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he bowed forward.

  Being dead was terrifying. All the rules had changed and there was no way for him to even begin to guess what would come next.

  Though he would never wish this on Nivian, he couldn’t help but miss her presence. Couldn’t help but wish that he’d spent one last minute with her, even if it meant suffering through that awful, blinding pain.

  Most of all, he wished he had kissed her, one last time.

  EIGHT

  NIVIAN

  NIVIAN STORMED ACROSS the apartment, spinning on her heels when she reached the wall, and stormed back to the other side. Then crossed again, over and over and over.

  She’d failed.

  And the worst part was, she knew she should care more than she did. But her stupid heart could only think about Kain. That he was the one who was meant to be her opposite, to be the Guardian of Life.

  She stopped when she reached the kitchen again, gripping on the edge of the counter with both hands. Nivian knew her heart would resist anyone else. Kain was irreplaceable. But allowing herself to stay in that frame of mind, to hold on to how she felt now, would spell doom.

  They counted on her and she was being selfish. Perhaps in time she’d be in a place where the pain wasn’t so fresh and she could push it to the side so she could fulfill her duties.

  Nivian ground her teeth.

  There had to be a way to quiet her heart’s desires, at least for long enough that she might successfully complete the ceremony. But how? She had to figure it out. And fast.

  Nivian bowed her head. She was mad at the situation, but most of all, she was mad at herself. Regret filled her down to her toes, filling her throat and lungs like a thick syrup, until she felt she would drown in it.

  How could she continue to hold on to Kain and everything he meant to her, but let him go so she could do what was needed? Was it possible?

  She was exhau
sted and didn’t know how much more she could take. The sorrow weighed heavy in her heart and on her mind with countless what if’s.

  What if she’d realized how she’d felt sooner? What if she had moved faster? What if she hadn’t given into her fear in Kain’s final moments? What if… what if… what if!

  Nivian slammed a fist on the counter, rattling the spoon still sitting in the long forgotten mug of cold coffee.

  She cursed Silas’s name. Why did he have to put her in this position? There were countless Reapers who would jump at the chance to become the next Fate Keeper, without a second thought. They would have been glad of the opportunity.

  She lifted her gaze to the silver wrapping folded neatly on the counter. She knew it was the part of a gift most people just tossed out, but Kain had picked it out specifically for her. And she cherished everything he gave her. Kain was the reason she knew who she was in the first place, the reason she had remembered anything at all about her past.

  A tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped furiously at it.

  “Enough,” she whispered. “Enough!”

  Nivian slumped.

  A chill ran down her spine with the familiar flavor of midnight and stardust accompanying the surge of power.

  Caspian. Nivian quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes for any lingering evidence of the turmoil that plagued her.

  When she turned around, Caspian stood in the middle of the room.

  Her thoughts had created a dark cloud over her head and though she felt guilty, all she wanted was to send him away so she could be alone.

  “What do you want, Caspian?” She instantly regretted her tired and impatient tone with him. He didn’t deserve it.

  He raised a brow, but all he said was, “Finn is here.”

  Seconds after the words were out, there was a knock at the door. Finn let himself in as if on queue. He seemed to have a habit of doing that. He nodded toward Caspian then to her.

  “Nivian,” he said, but his features were drawn tight, betraying the lightness of his tone. He looked exactly how she’d felt before they’d attempted her ceremony.

  “Are you ready?” Nivian asked, giving him a small smile she hoped conveyed that she knew exactly how he felt.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  Nivian turned to Caspian and swallowed hard, her fingers fidgeting with the ends of her sleeves.

  “I’ll be in the hall,” Caspian said, then walked out the door, leaving them alone.

  It was as if he could read her mind and understood she wanted to talk to Finn for a moment. After all, only the two of them would know what this process would be like, and only they would be burdened with the responsibilities of the Guardian of Life and the Fate Keeper. They would be working together closely for the rest of time.

  Nivian returned her gaze to Finn. “You don’t have to do this yet if you’re not ready.”

  “Nivian, I appreciate your concern, but I’m ready,” he said. His features softened. “To be honest, I think it would be worse waiting. I’d rather just get it done and over with, so try not to worry so much.”

  She took a few steps closer and placed a hand on his arm. “I will be there with you.”

  It was the only thing she could offer. It was something she wished she’d had. Finn was a good man. Though, they’d never been particularly close, perhaps they could become good friends in time.

  Together they walked out into the hallway, rejoining Caspian. The two Reapers held on to Finn and transported to just inside the dome of Yeva’s sanctuary.

  They stood on the warm grass, the sun beamed down in the ever-present summer. Just outside the invisible dome protecting the sanctuary, the wind howled mournfully. Snow swirled wildly about, creating a blinding white blanket of ice, fury, and rage that shielded it from mortal eyes. Not that any mortals would live long once they made it anywhere close to the mountain.

  The soft crunch of grass under foot brought Nivian back to the present. Caspian stood before her, concern in his eyes.

  “It is time,” he said quietly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch. It was similar to Kain’s.

  Nivian’s head shot up. “What is this?”

  “It is in case the worst happens,” he said, taking her hand and curling her fingers around the watch. Then, as if he didn’t hand her the one thing she dreaded, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in his wake with her jaw hanging.

  No, she thought, the worst can’t happen.

  Nivian tried to shake off the doubt. Holding on to it would only create more problems during the transfer. She shoved the watch into her pocket, clutching it tightly against her leg, then hurried to catch up.

  Nivian stopped a short distance before the dais. Just looking at the stone altar, coupled with the fact that Caspian had given her the Hunter’s watch without his knowledge, filled her with a deep sense of unease. Her stomach tied itself into knots.

  Finn leaned back and lowered himself atop the stone slab, his arms resting straight at his sides. He would have looked relaxed if it weren’t for the ghost white skin of the knuckles of his clenched fist. She understood exactly how he felt. She could stop it, but he was determined, he wanted to do this.

  “There will be pain, but keep your mind and your heart focused on accepting Yeva’s powers.” Caspian raised his arms.

  Finn’s hand shot out and grabbed the Reaper’s wrist.

  “Then don’t stop until it is complete,” Finn said.

  Caspian nodded then placed the stone upon Finn’s forehead, just as he had for Nivian during her ceremony, and raised his hands over the man’s face. He started to speak an ancient incantation, yet entirely different than the ones he’d said over her. Nivian could feel the resonance of their magic through every nerve and fiber of her being, down to her toes.

  A strange power emanated from Caspian’s hands. Dark at first, then slowly, a tendril of light swirled around Finn’s hands, snaking up his arms, shoulder, neck until it joined the churning blackness. Then another, and another, and another, until it drowned out the Reaper’s power and replaced it with the brightness of a Hunter’s. It sparked and danced, spreading out, covering Finn’s body like a thick oil, forming to every line and curve.

  Sweat glistened on Caspian’s forehead as the orb increased in diameter beneath his palms. Finn groaned, struggling to move, but was held down by Yeva’s power as it glided over him. His breath came ragged and labored.

  Nivian found herself stepping closer, watching for signs of success. Waiting for the end to come. For her, the ceremony had felt as if an eternity had passed, but she had no real way to tell how long it had taken. She hadn’t thought to ask.

  Finn panted through clenched teeth as a muscle worked in his jaw.

  Nivian closed the remaining distance and reached out for his hand. But the power flowing over his body, like a sparking blanket of electricity, flickered in response to her proximity.

  She jerked her hand back, afraid that her movements might cause a disruption.

  Finn arched his back, grunting, as if he wanted to scream from the pain but couldn’t.

  Nivian’s eyes shot to Caspian. Strands of onyx hair had come loose and now stuck to his face from sweat. He looked as if he too felt the strain. Had he looked so worn and beaten after her own attempt? She’d been too caught up in her own failure to notice.

  “Stop,” she choked out.

  Finn screamed. Though it wasn’t the scream of a man, but that of a wild animal in pain. Lines formed along his face and neck, glowing with Yeva’s power as it pushed it’s way into him.

  “Stop,” she pleaded again to Caspian, voice weak with fear. He needed to quit this before it was too late. Finn couldn’t do this. His body wasn’t strong enough yet.

  The fissures moved down his arms, crackling as they spread and ripping open his skin. Nivian’s hands froze over both men’s arms. Afraid to let this continue, but afraid her touch would c
ause something even worse to happen.

  Caspian’s face was pinched in concentration, his eyes squeezed tight.

  She snatched her hands back and balled them into fists against her chest. “Caspian!” she cried. “Stop this now!”

  He flinched. His shoulders slumped and the swirling power peeled back. Finn’s body collapsed and went limp. Caspian struggled to hold on, straining as if he were Sisyphus himself.

  With an audible snap, the power collapsed and pulled itself back into the stone, creating a strong wind that blew loose dirt and blades of grass into Nivian’s face. She lifted her arm to shield her face and stumbled backward from the force as Caspian crumpled to his hands and knees.

  And then, an eerie silence fell.

  Not even the softest whisper of the wind, or the song of a bird, or chirp of a cricket.

  Nivian dropped her arm and took in the scene. The lower branches of the trees were stripped bare, leaves scattered the ground, dry and brittle. Storm clouds hovered ominously overhead, churning with a brewing tempest.

  Finn lay on the stone altar, the skin of his arms shredded. Blood dripped steadily from his right hand hanging off the edge, crimson pooling on the ground beneath. Her heart stopped for what felt like an eternity. His chest moved up and down with weak, barely perceptible, movements.

  Caspian groaned and coughed.

  “Caspian?” Nivian rushed to his side and, gripping his shoulders, helped him to sit.

  He slowly lifted his chin and met her gaze. He was pale, more so than normal.

  “I—I am sorry, Nivian,” was all he said.

  His words stole her breath and she sat back on her heels. He was sorry, but she didn’t know why.

  The ceremony hadn’t worked, but they would try again once Finn healed. Did Caspian feel as though he’d failed her?

  Slowly, she forced herself to look at Finn. She pushed to her feet and went to him. Nivian gripped his blood slicked hand in hers and leaned in close. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We’ll get you back to Hunter Corp and get you bandaged up.”