The Moirai

by Ali Winters

  Finn looked at her as if he’d only just now seen her for the first time. His eyes void of the cool detachment he’d always regarded her with. His breath came out raspy and wet. He coughed, then said through a raw throat, “I can see why Kain was so taken with you.”

  Finn let out a laugh that ended in a fit of coughing. Blood tinted the edges of his mouth.

  She had no idea what he meant by that.

  “Shuush,” Nivian said, pressing her fingertips lightly to his lips. “Don’t talk right now.”

  Caspian rose to full height and brushed his clothes off with shaking hands. She stayed silently at the Hunter’s side, giving Caspian time to regain his composure. He moved to her side, then went perfectly still and didn’t take so much as half a breath. A long, painful silence passed as she continued to hold onto Finn.

  Caspian’s heavy hand landed on her shoulder, drawing her gaze up. She swallowed hard at the expression he wore. She’d seen it once before. Much too recently for her comfort.

  Her back went board straight and she shook her head. “No, don’t even think it,” she hissed.

  “Nivian,” he started.

  “No!” She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. “Not. Again.”

  Finn tugged on his hand. “Nivian,” he rasped. “We knew this was a possibility.”

  “Shut up,” she snapped. “We are taking you back to Hunter Corp.”

  “I won’t make it in this condition.”

  “Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that!”

  Finn clasped his other hand over hers. “I’m sorry I never gave you a real chance.”

  The watch Caspian had handed to her earlier burned against her leg. Her eyes stung, and for the first time in her existence, she hated what she was.

  This wasn’t keeping the balance, this was playing with fate. They had no right. And somehow it always fell on her shoulders.

  “I don’t think I can do this again,” she admitted to both of them, tucking her chin into her chest. Hot tears slipped from her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

  “It’s okay. I willingly took this risk. Now we know, only Holter stands a chance at surviving this.”

  Nivian’s veins buzzed with panic at the mention of Holter’s name. She could feel something inside her crack a little more. Something that had already shattered and was still too raw.

  Caspian had given her the watch moments before they’d started. Had he known there was such a high chance of failure? Had Finn really understood the risk?

  “Nivian?” Finn said her name gently.

  “Did you know?” Nivian’s head shot up as she fixed him with her gaze. She didn’t know what answer she wanted—for him to admit he knew he would most likely not survive, or if she wanted him to have been hopeful.

  Either option would hurt. She didn’t want to hate her friend for being reckless, but she didn’t want to be angry with a Hunter who’d given his life to learn if what they were attempting was a battle worth fighting for, or if it were pointless.

  Fresh blood dripped down his chin. A long, thin line. “Of course, I did.”

  “You idiot,” she said, kneeling at his side and pressing his hand to her head. “You brave, stupid, idiot.”

  “You have my watch?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she growled.

  “Good.”

  Good? There was nothing good about this.

  “Don’t blame him,” he nodded toward Caspian, then fell into another coughing fit. When he stilled, his breath came slower, shallower, and his words slurred. “It was my idea. I knew… the risks. I… didn’t want to… fade. Do this… for me, please, Nivian.” Finn’s eyes closed.

  Nivian set his hand down at his side, watching the rise and fall of his chest slow even more. She stepped back and reached into her pocket, pulling out the watch. She pressed down on the crown, popping the lid open.

  She waved her other hand and Finn’s life thread floated upward, dancing and swirling above him with blinding, golden light. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out her scythe the size of a pen and with just a thought, it grew to full size.

  “I’m sorry, Finn,” she whispered, then swung her blade.

  She watched, using the last shredded remains of her heart to keep herself upright, as the thread found its way into the watch. When it was done, she clicked it closed. But it was the final breath that escaped Finn’s lips that undid her.

  Nivian fell to her hands and knees and retched.

  She was sick of death.

  She didn’t want to be a Reaper any more.

  An hour later, she stood next to Finn’s body. He’d known his chances, yet he still gave his life as if it were nothing. She admired him, his unwavering dedication to the balance. But at the same time, Nivian wanted to bring him back, just long enough to slap some sense into him, to tell him what a fool he’d been.

  Though he was silent, she felt Caspian approach from behind.

  “I just want to be alone right now.”

  “Nivian—”

  “I will meet you at my place,” she said venomously.

  Without a word, Caspian vanished, the absence of his presence apparent in the current of the atmosphere. He understood what he’d asked of her, understood the chances of this outcome. He hadn’t meant to cause her more pain.

  There had never been a choice, this was a destiny heaped upon them all back at the beginning of time. Everything any of them had ever done, every choice and decision they’d made, had led them to this fate.

  She sighed softly and brushed her fingers down Finn’s cool cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger… I’m sorry I failed you… I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

  Nivian turned around and walked back the way they’d come, to the edge of the sanctuary where the blizzard raged outside the protective barrier.

  Never again. She swore silently, never again.

  She had to stop wallowing, had to stop mourning.

  Now was the time for action. There was only one way they would be successful, and it was damn near impossible. There had to be another answer, some way to know what fate had in mind, what they needed to do. The flicker of a plan started to form in her mind.

  Throwing her hood over her head, she vanished, transporting back to her apartment.

  “We need to let the Hunters know about Finn,” Nivian said, striding through the front door.

  She stopped dead in her tracks at seeing Caspian standing out on the balcony, the glass doors wide open, letting in the chilled air and the gentle pitter patter of spring rain. His back stiffened but he didn’t face her.

  Unclasping her cloak, Nivian hung it up on the hook by the door, then made her way around unpacked boxes to the far side of the apartment. She leaned against the doorframe and clasped her hands, twisting her fingers. Nivian bit down hard on her lip for not realizing how self-centered she’d been. How had she not seen that Finn’s death had affected him too?

  Nivian waited silently, giving him time. Dark clouds crept in overhead, covering the sun as if it, too, were mourning.

  “He was not born to take in that amount of power.” Caspian gripped the metal railing of the balcony. “I knew it too after I’d tested him, but I still allowed him to go through with it.”

  Rain soaked him, but he made no move to come inside. Nivian let her arms fall to her sides. She was tired of hurting, of being a weak, broken thing. And seeing her friend hold onto the same pain and guilt only strengthened her resolve to find another way to save the balance.

  There had to be another way.

  She would go to the library and search until she found something, anything, that would ensure the next ceremony would be successful.

  A soft knock on the door pulled Nivian from her thoughts. Caspian remained as still as stone, the gentle wind rustling the edges of his cloak. She turned and walked to the door. Her stomach twisted as she answered and found herself looking into Holter’s hopeful face.

  He removed his hat and slid past her. “Is
Caspian with you?”

  “He’s in the back.” She pointed limply toward the balcony, stunned by his unexpected arrival.

  “I know you two said you’d come by once it was finished, but I was in the area and, to be honest, I was anxious to know how it went,” he said, his nervousness palpable. He rubbed the back of his neck in a very Kain like gesture.

  Words stuck in Nivian’s throat. She didn’t know how to break it to him that he’d once again lost someone else. And that deep inside, she blamed herself. It was her own fault for not doing more, for not trying harder.

  Holter must have seen something in her eye because he paled. Clearing his throat, he simply nodded and turned and hurried to where Caspian stood.

  Nivian hung back and watched Holter approach him. Caspian finally turned.

  Holter stayed silent as the other man spoke in a tone too quiet for her to hear. The Hunter’s hands tightened around his hat, squeezing and twisting it into a misshapen mass. It was a while before Holter found his voice and the two of them talked between themselves for a long moment.

  Finally, Holter nodded and looked down at his ruined hat. He heaved a sigh that left his shoulders curved. He tossed the hat in a nearby trash barrel and made his way back to the entrance, where Nivian still waited.

  “I’m sorry—” she started, but he held up a hand, silencing her.

  “Don’t apologize, Nivian. We all knew it was a possibility. Our duty is to protect the balance at all costs.” He looked over his shoulder at Caspian then back to her. “Caspian and I will take measures to ensure what happened today does not repeat itself when we try next.”

  “We?” she asked. But she didn’t need to hear the answer to know he’d already offered himself up as the next sacrifice. Caspian and Finn had already told her as much. “No, Holter you can’t—”

  He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her close, holding onto her for a long time. “I am the closest to Kain, both in power and relation.” He pulled back and lifted her chin. “I’m the only one who can do this. We have to try everything.”

  Nivian wiggled out of his hold and took two steps back. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” she snapped.

  “Nivian!” Caspian’s quiet, but harsh, voice cut off anything more she would have said.

  She met his eyes, not backing down from the warning look he shot her. She was about to tread too far on ground she had no place being.

  How could Caspian let Holter take this risk? It was too dangerous.

  Holter cleared his throat. “I will see you soon, Caspian.” He paused and studied Nivian as if he were trying to read her, then he said in a strained voice, “Nivian.”

  He nodded once before turning and walking out the door.

  That was it.

  He’d only said her name. Though from the tightness in his voice, she knew he’d wanted to say more.

  Nivian hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on an old, rusted, iron chair with chipping white paint and looked out over her small corner of the city. The rain had turned into a light drizzle, pinging off the balcony’s metal railing in a melodic, soothing rhythm.

  She bit down on her lip. They had to do everything. She knew that, they were all repeating it like a mantra, over and over, trying to convince themselves that everyone’s life was worth the sacrifice.

  She had to be strong, stronger than she was for herself, stronger than she was for Finn.

  A thought made goose bumps race up her arms. Would Finn have survived if she’d only been stronger for him? Maybe…

  No, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t keep looking back. Only forward to a solution. One only Holter was capable of pulling off. But he was her last connection to Kain. She had to do something to minimize the risk he’d take.

  An answer, she needed an answer. One even Caspian couldn’t give her.

  She had to go above him.

  Nivian dropped her feet and jumped up from the metal chair. “The Tome,” she whispered.

  The Tome of Fate could tell her what she needed to know. Some way for them to succeed without losing anyone else.

  She ran through the double glass doors of the balcony and to the other side of the apartment, snatching her cloak off the coat hook. Nivian threw it around her shoulders and transported to G.R.I.M. Headquarters.

  Nivian’s heart pounded as she walked down the long dark hallway leading to Caspian’s office. The door was closed, as usual. She knocked and waited, hoping he wouldn’t answer. Long seconds later, only silence had greeted her.

  She creaked open the door and peeked in. The room was empty. Nivian glanced behind her once to make sure no one was around and slipped in. She tiptoed to the large, wooden desk and rounded it until the three large windows were at her back.

  The Tome wasn’t out on the top. Of course, it wouldn’t be. Caspian would never leave it lying about. Nivian searched the drawers until she found what looked like a large book wrapped in a soft cloth.

  Pulling it from the drawer, she set it upon the desk and unwrapped it. Guilt nagged at the edges of her mind, but she had to do this. Caspian would forgive her. She didn’t like sneaking around like this, and even if she lost his friendship, so long as everything was all right in the end, she would accept the consequences of her actions. Nivian stroked the eye on the front cover with the tip of her finger.

  She couldn’t let anyone else die. What was the point of saving the world if everyone she cared about was dead?

  The leather binding groaned as she pulled back the cover. Blank pages stared up at her. “How—” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “How can I ensure we succeed?”

  She waited.

  Seconds passed, then minutes, but nothing happened.

  Perhaps it had been too broad of a question.

  She tried again. “Is there another way we can succeed in saving the balance, without anyone else dying?”

  Nivian held her breath, time seemed to stretch on. Then slowly, letters danced and swirled before forming one word.

  Yes.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, almost deafening. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “How? How can I restore the balance and protect everyone?”

  Again. Nothing. Nivian frowned and wondered if the Tome itself didn’t have the answers. Would she have to go above the Tome for answers? Was that even possible?

  “Who has the answers I seek?”

  Letters swirled, faster than before, speeding up until they were a wild blur. Then it stopped, golden light glowing around the edges of the short, two word message.

  The Moirai.

  NINE

  KAIN

  THE BOAT SAT low in the water as it floated into the fog. Water splashed at the sides in an enthralling rhythm. Kharon pushed the boat along at a slow, steady pace until there was nothing but dark water and dense mist surrounding them.

  Kain leaned back and closed his eyes. He missed Nivian… he missed life. There were things he’d never had the chance to do, and now, never would. How would his mom react? Did she know yet? His only solace there was that she had Holter in her life, so at least she wouldn’t be alone.

  He opened his eyes and slammed his hands against the sides of the boat, gripping onto the frame. They were sideways. He hadn’t even felt when the boat started to list and continued to roll. They were almost completely capsized when he let go, surprised that gravity didn’t pull him down into the dark depths of the water. Kain looked to Kharon who continued as if nothing had changed. They sank, down, down, down, until the surface had disappeared.

  The water never invaded their space, and the boat seemed to have it’s own gravity. Kain forced himself to calm, prying his fingers off the sides. He reached a hand out, almost touching the water before Kharon’s earlier warning came cashing to the forefront of his memory. He wasn’t about to take that risk.

  Tilting his head back, he looked around. A light shone from the bottom of the riverbed, ripples danced along the pale shafts. It grew closer and clo
ser until they surfaced, breaking through.

  “What was that?” Kain asked. But Kharon ignored him, continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken.

  The fog had dissipated revealing shore on either side of the wide river. A vast, cavern of red rock surrounded them in all directions. Rough landscapes of mountainous formations loomed off in the distance, menacing like rows of shark teeth.

  A boat floated up alongside them with a soul sitting at the back, only he seemed unaware of his surroundings, staying silent and still with his eyes forward. Then another boat joined them, and another, and another until there were too many for Kain to count as they drifted past at a much faster speed.

  All occupants were in the same trance like state. Though only Kain had… whatever Kharon was to steer his vessel.

  The other boats turned and headed to the banks of the shore. Then, one by one, each soul stepped off and faded into nothing as they walked farther onto land.

  “What is this place?” Kain asked, not expecting an answer.

  “Welcome to purgatory,” Kharon said with a flourish of his arm.

  Kain shot him an unamused glance. Surely, Purgatory didn’t deserve quite such a cheerful introduction, as if it were a theme park.

  He turned back to eye the ferryman, thinking better of saying the things he wanted to say. Instead he asked, “Will I fade too when I get off this thing?”

  “No,” Kharon said simply. “They are mortal, you are… something entirely different.” He eyed Kain up and down as if he couldn’t figure him out, then went back to pushing the boat through the water.

  Kain slumped back where he sat. Behind them, the procession of boats continued on and on in an endless cycle. But ahead, the river came to an abrupt end. It didn’t pool into a lake, or become a waterfall, or run into the river across the thick swath of land… it just ended.

  The bottom of the boat scraped against gravel as they arrived. Kain stood and jumped out onto solid ground. Nothing but the flat, barren shore stretch out to the foot of the mountains.