The Moirai

by Ali Winters

  The emotion was so clear. But it wasn’t just anger, it was so much more. With every passing moment, he was forced to face every aspect of his life, forced to open his eyes to how blind living had made him.

  She had tricked him, manipulated him, and let him die for her.

  Whatever stupid emotion he had thought he’d felt for her withered, shriveling up and growing black like a stain upon his heart, the utter wrath he felt for her taking its place.

  He had never been an angry person. His life had been good, and it was a rare occasion when he felt anything even close to this.

  It was unsettling. And somewhere in the back of his mind an alarm went off. Something wasn’t right.

  Confusion tinted his heart in shades of burnt orange. By nature he tried to be logical in life.

  He’d always known his mind.

  Nothing she did ever made him feel as if what he felt for her had been anything other than his own choice. Being a Hunter, he could always sense when she used her power near him. He would have known if she’d used it on him at any point.

  Kain thought back to the expression he’d seen on Nivian’s face as he turned to follow his Spirit Councilor to the Underworld. The tears in her eyes, the heartbreak on her face, her pain so great he had almost physically felt it like a punch to the gut.

  She couldn’t have faked it.

  He stopped in his tracks and looked at his hands through the water that almost reached his neck. It was perfectly clear, glinting even in the dim light.

  The farther he waded into the river, the more he could feel it clamp down on him, stealing away a large, important part of him. Sneaking where the others took outright or demanded he willingly hand something over.

  The river Styx would take Nivian from him. Poisoning away every reason he’d ever had for loving her, turning it into something dark and ugly.

  Kain tried to push away the thoughts of wrath and hate, and he ran. The harder he fought it, the more he could feel the slimy fingers of the river’s will forcing itself upon him. He could feel the war raging within, spreading like a wave over his feelings. A deluge to sweep them away.

  The water’s depth began to lower as he neared the far side of the shore, racing against the time and affects, trying to save some small part of himself.

  Kain stumbled over his own numb limbs. If only he had control of his body, he could escape this horrid river faster.

  So close... he was so close to the edge.

  Time, if such a thing existed in this place, seemed to slow way down as he fell face first, the water rising up to meet him. Kain opened his mouth in a mixture of surprise and horror and inhaled a large lungful of water, swallowing on instinct.

  A tsunami seemed to crash over him, consuming his love for Nivian. He could almost see it. Photographs burning to ash and cinders.

  He shoved himself up, pushing away from the slimy algae coated riverbed, and clawed his way out onto the rocky shore, panting and coughing up as much of the water as he could.

  He blinked and looked back over his shoulder at the river with narrowed eyes, watching the current send the surface splashing as if in a triumphant dance.

  Kain’s arms trembled, and he collapsed face down among the rocks and mud.

  FOURTEEN

  CASPIAN

  “YOU WILL DO no such thing,” Caspian said darkly. He glared down at her after dragging her back into the private quarters of his office and all but slamming the doors behind them. He was beginning to think his calm, unraveled exterior might just shatter from her impertinence. If he were going to yell, then it would not be within earshot where they could be overheard.

  Nivian pursed her lips in determination.

  Yes, this would be a fight, and it was doubtful there would be any winners.

  He both admired her fierce resolve and the reason she wanted to go through with this insane mission, but was equally furious at her blatant defiance.

  Nivian’s chest rose and fell. She shifted almost imperceptibly as her body tensed and her fists clenched at her sides. So much of her was the same, and yet so different from the woman he’d met on the bank of a river all those centuries ago. Silver glazed her eyes, making them glitter like the arctic oceans in summer.

  Caspian stepped back then crossed the room, placing his desk between them. He couldn’t stand so close to her without giving in to what she wanted.

  So much had changed between them, but he could not place when, or how.

  It was as if everything was being ripped apart slowly by the massive hole of power left behind by the two ancients. The Balance might have a year of stability granted by Silas as he wove his final plan, but life as they’d known it was shredding itself apart from the inside out.

  “I have always done what was asked of me. I will continue to do so… but I need to do this.” Nivian walked slowly toward him—a predator stalking its prey—she placed her palms on the desk, fingers splayed. Her eyes begged him to give in, but there was a wild thing flickering behind them, threatening to break free.

  Exhaustion rolled over him in a wave. “Everything is at stake here—”

  “I know, that’s why I have to do this.”

  “We cannot afford to allow our whims to rule our decisions.”

  Nivian’s eyes narrowed. For several moments, they held each other’s gaze in a battle of wills, but eventually Nivian dropped her chin, looking away.

  He understood her reasoning, and she his. It didn’t seem to matter that their goals were the same; to ensure the balance was kept by creating a new Fate Keeper and Guardian of Life before their time ran out.

  Impossible. His mind kept going back to that damned word. Her request was impossible. What she wanted was impossible.

  Agreeing with each other was impossible.

  If he wanted, he could reach out and stroke her cheek, but he’d never felt a greater distance between them than he did in that moment.

  Eventually, Nivian straightened, her hands sliding off the desk’s dark, glossy surface. The hurt in her face was a knife to his heart, twisting with every second of silence that passed. She nodded once then turned and walked from the room without another word.

  It was too much to hope she had seen reason and agreed with him, but she’d submitted to his authority.

  An acrid taste coated his tongue, making his stomach churn from having to exude his command over her.

  Caspian dropped into his chair, his posture void of the carefully composed exterior he always wore.

  If he didn’t leave for Hunter Corp now, he would be late. However, given Nivian’s recent desires, staying with Holter until he was prepared would be ideal. The sooner he was ready, the sooner Nivian could put her ideas and schemes behind her and move on.

  Caspian opened the Tome of Fate and began scribbling down names of marks onto parchment as fast as he could.

  Caspian flexed a cramp out of his hand, his fingers aching from hours of nonstop writing. He wrote one more note then waved his hand over it. The scrap of parchment disappeared in a swirl of darkness. Several minutes later, Evander strode into the office.

  “My Lord, you’ve summoned me?” he asked with uncertainty.

  “Yes, I will need you to do something for me while I am gone.” Caspian straightened the stack of marks.

  “Anything, my Lord.” Evander bowed.

  “I will need you to hand out these assignments for the next few days. I’ve labeled them with the Reaper’s name and when the marks are due.”

  Evander cocked his head to the side. “My Lord?”

  “Something has come up and requires my attention immediately, regarding…” Caspian hesitated, “our situation,” he finished.

  Evander nodded knowingly. “Of course.”

  He took the stack of names and placed them within his cloak then turned and left.

  Caspian looked back to the Tome of Fate, still open on the desk. The words to his questions had refused to form when Nivian had interrupted him. He approached the book cauti
ously as if it would easily frighten.

  “What is Holter’s fate when we perform the ceremony on him?” he asked quietly.

  Golden light poured out from the pages and swirled, letters danced but, again, refused to form.

  Refusing Nivian’s request had been the right thing to do, but… if she were right, if him simply saying yes could save them all…

  A few months is all she had wanted. Though, he doubted that it would take nearly that much time to realize her quest was in vain and finding the mythical Moirai was not possible, but…

  No. He refused to entertain the thought.

  Caspian brushed his hand across the page of swirling words and stopped its frantic search.

  Another question then. One not so specific.

  Unless handing out marks, the Tome was very particular in the information it gave. Caspian had asked Silas about it shortly after his creation. The answer was something about it being better to not know one’s own fate or the fate of those around them. It boiled down to using it for selfish reasons over the greater good and creating a much darker future by attempting to change fate.

  “Will the next Hunter to attempt the ceremony survive?”

  There was a pause as if the Tome contemplated the answer before words eddied. This time, the book was certain as shapes started to form.

  Caspian slammed the book closed before the answer came into focus, his heart hammering in his chest.

  This was one answer he was not prepared to see.

  Caspian wrapped the Tome of Fate in its cloth and placed it gently back in its drawer. He closed the thick, black, silk brocade curtains and extinguished the eternal candles before closing the door behind him.

  NIVIAN

  Nivian sat cross-legged on the bed, clutching the soft white bear to her chest. Her fingers brushed against the top of its head mindlessly while she flipped through the pages of a book.

  She’d been over them a few times, each holding the smallest clue, that when read only with the book it was in seemed inconsequential and just another part of the story. But when she combined the small nuggets of information with the other books, they all suddenly took on an entirely new meaning.

  The books were piled to her left, small scraps of papers she’d scribbled the clues on were spread out in a half moon around her legs. She looked from the book to the piece of paper she held in her hand, then moved two other notes into different spots before placing that one down.

  If she could just find the right order the clues belonged in, she might see something she missed.

  The balcony doors swung open gently, a cool breeze swaying into the room. The papers fluttered, but stayed put. Nivian looked up to see Evander casually stroll in.

  “How is your search going?”

  Nivian offered him a rueful smile. “I think you know. Thank you for understanding—and for the book.” She plucked up the scraps and set them in a pile on her nightstand. “I found what I needed, there’s just a few details I am a little fuzzy on.”

  “Of course, I know Caspian will too when you talk with him.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why would you say that?” Evander sat down next to her and placed a cool hand atop one of her own.

  “Because I’ve already talked to him about it…” she let her words trail off and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Nivian dropped her chin in defeat. “He says it’s impossible.”

  “You and Caspian are friends. I know he understands, but he would be caught between you and his responsibilities. He is bound to those even over his own well-being, he can put nothing ahead of them.” Evander stood and walked to the balcony doors. “I am sure he would tell you to follow your heart, if he could.”

  And then he was gone. Though, she hardly noticed. The notes and clues called for her full attention.

  Nivian picked up the book that mentioned the path, reading the passage over and over again.

  A path in a heart made no sense. There seemed to be two, one for Yeva and one for Silas, but the wording was odd.

  “The heart… in the heart… in the heart…” Nivian dropped the book. It bounced on the mattress and lay immediately forgotten as the realization hit.

  Silas’s throne room was always referred to as sitting at the heart of Headquarters. It was the only thing that made sense. It was associated with him—he was the ruler of death. The center, or core, of something was sometimes referred to as the heart. How had she missed it before? It was so simple.

  She let out a mad giggle, falling back onto the pillows. Awe turned her mind and body limp for a good, long moment.

  She knew where to find the fates!

  Nivian jumped up and danced with the stuffed bear around the apartment until she was short of breath, then threw herself onto the bed. She lifted the book and read the passage again.

  It couldn’t possibly be as simple as going to Silas’s lair. But nothing else jumped out at her as significant. A quick check would prove or disprove it quick enough.

  There was no point in delaying. She could search the throne room, and if she found what she suspected she would, then perfect. If not, then she would examine the books closer until she found the right answer.

  She grabbed her cloak and threw it around her shoulders, transporting to the gates of G.R.I.M. Headquarters.

  Nivian paced herself as she moved through the halls, careful not to draw unwanted attention to herself. She paused at the stairs and looked around, making sure no one saw her descend.

  Silas’s throne room… she still thought of it as his, even knowing she would inherit it once she took on his powers. Nivian doubted that it would ever feel like it belonged to her.

  She pushed open the massive stone doors and slipped inside. It looked exactly the same, but it felt strange and lonely, almost as if it were a living thing. Part of her was thankful the room was mostly empty, save for the throne in the center, a workbench against the wall, and the alcove in the back where the sacred milky blue Waters of Soyala were hidden behind a black curtain.

  Immediately, she made her way to the throne and dropped to the ground to feel underneath. Not even a speck of dust. She ran her hands over the cold, gray stone, pressing every notch and divot. Nothing.

  Nivian huffed. Arms crossed, she tapped her foot and scanned the work bench. Trying for a hidden lever, she lifted and moved every item atop it.

  Still, nothing.

  There was nothing else to check except…

  The walls? If there were a passage, it certainly would be easier to get to it than crawling under a massive stone seat.

  She started by the doors and felt her way around the room, pressing every inch at Silas’s shoulder height, even venturing into the hidden alcove behind the curtain. She squeezed her body into the tight space.

  Halfway through the room and, still, she’d found nothing.

  Nivian could feel the thin tendrils of hope slipping through her fingers like grains of sand in a clenched fist and tried to tell herself that it would be okay if she didn’t find anything here. She still had time to search for more clues, to look in more places.

  Nivian leaned against the wall and blew out a breath, stumbling when part of it gave way. Stone ground against stone as a door opened up to her left.

  Her mouth dropped open and she stared dumbly for a long moment. Through the opening was only pitch black. She took a step in, pressing her hands along the wall and feeling for a space with her foot before putting weight on it. Stairs.

  Progress was slow down the spiral staircase, but as she neared the bottom, a soft green glow became visible. At first, Nivian wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but it became stronger the farther down she went.

  At the bottom, a long labyrinth of tunnels carved from the earth. Green and white crystals protruded from the wall, giving off the pale light she used to see, no brighter than the flickering of stars in the night sky.

  Nivian’s hands shook with anticipation and she took off a
t a run straight ahead. Something deep within her bones seemed to guide her. She didn’t care what or how, but with every beat of her heart she knew: This is right.

  The tunnel ahead was swathed in darkness where the crystals ceased to grow.

  Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Her pulse seemed to say.

  There was a single opening along the wall and Nivian approached with caution. Heart pounding wildly against her sternum, she crossed her fingers that the Moirai would be just beyond.

  She deflated upon seeing an abandoned room. Nothing more than a bed shoved at an odd angle and a small table against the wall.

  A prison.

  Nivian ventured within, skirting the bed as if it held something unspeakable on the other side.

  “How strange,” she muttered at finding a hole. Nivian looked over her shoulder then jumped down, landing in another tunnel with a low ceiling. The fear of someone discovering her exploring the hidden underground spurred her forward.

  After several yards, the path branched off into two others. Where they began, the obsidian path stopped and turned into one of barren stone, the other into a grassy path. Nivian studied each, not knowing where either led.

  She closed her eyes and took a step forward. Whatever had guided her this far might just keep her on the right track. She would trust it the rest of the way.

  Then another.

  And another.

  When she opened her eyes, the barren path lay beneath her feet. Nivian sent one last, questioning glance toward the grassy trail then jogged forward. The tunnel seemed never ending, winding this way and that until she was well and truly lost.

  Rolling fog moved in, slowly at first, swallowing her feet. But it wasn’t until it crawled up the walls that she noticed it. Minutes later, it surrounded everything, unsettling and billowy as it flowed and swirled. Nivian reached a hand out in front of her face, turning it over, half obscured by the thick haze, appearing wraith like as if she were becoming part of it.