The Moirai

by Ali Winters

  Though, the curiosity of the moment couldn’t stave off the overwhelming dolor in his heart.

  Kain took in a shuddering breath and started the short trek toward the river Lethe. The soles of his shoes scraped at the hardened ground.

  Quiet trickling of water reached his ears first then, slowly, the shadow of the river emerged through the billows of loam like a slash of paint against the coppery dust cloud. Kain stopped the second he saw familiar shapes moving along shore. Human shapes. He was torn between running up to them and asking about the next part, and hanging back, waiting for them to leave in case they, too, tried to trap him within the water.

  Approaching cautiously, Kain squinted to see better. The closer he got, the more figures appeared. But it wasn’t until he was nearly upon them, and the air cleared, that he could make them out. He made little effort to hide his advance, yet none turned to look at him.

  Their clothes, like his, were ripped and tattered, but where he’d retained the natural hue of his skin, theirs had turned inhumanly gray and ashen.

  The haggard shades hunched at the lapping shore of the river, cupping handfuls of water and slurping it up greedily behind curtains of tangled hair, as if they were bound to do so for eternity. Though they were all similar, they still held the echoes of their living form, distinguishing them as individuals. Some were slow and timid, while others were drinking with a ravenous frenzy.

  Kain walked up to one who’d just fallen to his knees, bending to take his first sip. He reached out to tap a man on the shoulder to grab his attention, but the shade’s head whipped around. And the sight sent Kain stumbling back several feet.

  Save for the thin line of his mouth, the man had no face outside the general topography—a carving in the very beginnings of its creation.

  Kain looked up and down the shore at all of the figures continuing to appear in an endless precession kneeling to drink. Several changing to formless wraiths that walked out into the water and vanished.

  One more river.

  But would he vanish as well when he entered it? He eyed several of the wraiths that drank and drank and drank. Kain kneeled down and wondered if he was supposed to do as they were.

  Scooping up a handful of water, he let it flow through his fingers like liquid silver returning to the source.

  Kain placed one foot into the water, then the other. It reached up to his knees then he turned to follow the river’s path. With each step, his shoulders drooped. His head felt full of cotton and lead. His chin fell to his chest and he focused on taking one step at a time. Thoughts refused to form in his mind, everything remained coated in a thick haze.

  He shuffled along, not knowing how much time had passed, if any had passed. The pounding in his head had started some time ago, slow and steady as a drum beat, quickly becoming a rapid barrage of hammering.

  He wanted to rest. Just for a little bit. It took all his effort to face the dry land. He moved toward it, stopping only when the water lapped at his ankles. Something told him not to set foot outside the river.

  Defeated, he sat along the edge with his legs out before him. Each blink took longer than the last and soon, even sitting felt like more effort than it was worth.

  With that thought, he could vaguely tell by the change in gravity that he’d lain back. The river’s gentle current washed over him, covering him like a light blanket.

  Several drops of the metallic water misted his face, finding their way to his lips. His tongue darted out between and he immediately regretted it. It tasted bitter and gross, like rotten leaves. He tightened the line of his mouth.

  Kharon had said not to linger, but he couldn’t seem to muster the will power to make his strange, foreign body obey.

  It didn’t belong to him anymore.

  “Kain?” the sweet sound of a familiar voice called out to him. “Kain? Kain, get up!”

  A wave washed over his face. His eyes and mouth shot open, the endless red-brown sky loomed over him, and the water poured into his nose and down his throat. Kain sat up, spitting out the foul water. The wraiths had vanished, leaving him alone on the barren shore.

  He rubbed at his head, wondering how far he had walked. The water around him was calm. Not stagnate but moving in a very slow and steady rhythm. He shook his head, unsure how the water could have splashed him.

  He’d heard a voice. A woman’s voice; sweet, yet firm. So familiar, but the harder he tried to place how he knew her, the more her name slipped from his grasp.

  Kain looked out at the water and saw that past the far shore, a large lake contained a giant boulder sitting several yards in. Other rivers flowed into the large body of water at five separate points, including the one he was in.

  If he could get to the rock, then he could rest until the effects of the river faded, and he could go the rest of the way to the wide sprawling land on the other side, where fields of green awaited bathed in bright light like a summer’s day.

  His energy waned quickly as he continued on. He wanted nothing more than to stop and lie down and sleep.

  Tired. He was just so tired.

  Pain like talons scraped against his mind, clawing and scratching, gouging. Forming cracks.

  Images flashed in his mind’s eye, too fast for him to make sense of it at first, then slower.

  He looked up into his mom’s face as she smiled and reached to pick him up. Then the image shattered like so much glass.

  Kain blinked and shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the pain.

  What was I thinking about? he wondered.

  A pale face. Snow white hair, and eyes like ice that somehow held a warmth within them. Shy but happy.

  He knew her. The voice that called his name belonged to her.

  Then, that image shattered into an infinite array of shards, as many pieces as there were stars in the sky.

  A figure with a face whose features he couldn’t recall. He’d just known them, but now… She lifted something to her face and took a bite. Kain looked around but couldn’t make out the details. More glass memories shattered.

  A figure stood over him, faceless as it swung.

  A blur moving closer, speaking three muffled syllables.

  Kain blinked, shaking the array of blurs of color and flashes of images away. He turned in a circle, unsure of where he was, or why he was there.

  He hurried, tripping and sliding, no longer caring that he kept swallowing mouthfuls of the repulsive water.

  Shadows edged in along the farthest reaches of his mind, permeating. He couldn’t afford to stop and figure out what was happening. He only knew the river was claiming it’s toll.

  Kain reached the mouth of the river where it joined the lake. He wanted to finish this journey because…

  He swallowed hard, stretching his mind back as far as he could. The Underworld, blurred figures in black, and… nothing.

  Other than a handful of incomplete images, muffled words, and distorted voices, there was nothing.

  Only the darkness of a void greeted him inside his mind.

  Kain threw himself into a hard run and dove, splashing into the perfectly round lake, needing to get out of the Lethe river. He couldn’t remember why he was there, or what he was doing… who he was anymore.

  Had he ever known?

  He didn’t slow until he was waist deep, but he didn’t stop then either. He had to make it to the rock ahead.

  Then he was chest deep and swimming.

  Kain flailed his arms and legs, his head dipping under the surface of the water again and again.

  It was cold.

  But not to his body.

  No, he could no longer feel anything in the vessel his consciousness was currently trapped within, but to his mind.

  Numbing.

  The icy chill cleansed his mind of everything, just as the burning fire had for his body.

  He fought to remember something, anything, as he pushed forward. With every slap of his hands on water he could feel the river he’d left continue t
o take its toll.

  The very last threads of who he was.

  He couldn’t remember how he got here, but he clung to a single thought with all his might.

  Do not linger. Do not linger…

  As he pushed on, the single thought still slowly slipped through his fingers like a melting cube of ice.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  He reached for the rock, feeling his body quitting.

  One more push.

  He started to sink.

  The rock.

  Reach the rock.

  Kain reached out but found nothing to anchor himself to. Darkness edged in as his legs and arms stilled and he sank below the surface.

  Kain floated, weightless and heavy all at once, letting the current take him where it may.

  Something hard and rough brushed against the back of his hand. On instinct, he clenched onto a slime slicked rock and pulled his body up. He kept climbing even after his head breached the surface of the water, not stopping until he sat atop the highest point of the boulder where he would rest. Just for a little while.

  He looked into his mind and found only a dark and empty oblivion.

  EIGHTEEN

  NIVIAN

  NIVIAN TUCKED THE eye under the collar of her shirt and descended the stairs to the main hall. She kept her pace steady, avoiding eye contact with the others until she made it outside the gates. The weight of accusing eyes seemed to drill into her back. Though she knew it was only her imagination.

  Still, she paused and scanned the area, but didn’t see another Reaper anywhere. Paranoia and guilt snaked its way around her spine, slithering up until it wrapped around her throat.

  She threw her hood over her head and transported to inside her apartment.

  Heart still beating fast, she leaned against the door and took several deep breaths. Nivian twisted her fingers, the magnitude of what she’d done, what she still intended on doing, hit her hard.

  What if she didn’t return? Would Caspian blame her for everything? So much remained unsaid between them. And what of everyone else, the other Reapers, her friends… the world? She couldn’t leave things how they stood now.

  Nivian pushed away from the door and pulled a notepad from her nightstand and sat down on the bed, wishing she’d taken the time to move the chairs and island table from her old apartment to this one. Though, it hardly mattered anymore. She pushed that thought away and focused on her letter to Caspian.

  She chewed on the end of the pen, thinking of what to write. There was more to say than she could adequately put in a letter. Too much that relied on how he would respond.

  Just the start of the conversation they would need to have then. She had to believe they would talk again, had to believe she would come back with Kain.

  She put pen to paper. Nivian wanted to tell him how she was sorry for what she was about to do and hoped that one day he’d find it in him to forgive her, then asked him to give her a few days before he tried the ceremony with Holter.

  She was about to fold the letter up, but something made her hesitate. While she didn’t plan on being gone any longer than that, there was the possibility that something would delay her.

  Crossing out the last sentence she wrote in three months. It seemed excessive, but if he could give her that time, or whatever it took for her to return, then Holter would be safe. She would understand if he couldn’t, but if he could believe in her one last time, she wouldn’t let him down. It wasn’t an option she was willing to consider.

  Then, on a whim, she made a suggestion she had no right to offer.

  Satisfied, she folded the letter and stood. She suddenly felt the urge to hurry to keep from backing out. Many things had scared her, including the threat to her own existence.

  But this was something else entirely.

  This was about more than her. She repeated that thought over and over in her mind.

  She picked up the stuffed bear Kain had given her and hugged it to her chest, then gave their place one last look, committing it to memory. The need to say goodbye was stronger than she would have liked to admit, especially since she planned on returning very soon. But there are no guarantees.

  Rolling her shoulders, she stuffed the letter in her pocket, then transported back to G.R.I.M., coming face to face with Evander.

  “Hello, Nivian,” he said.

  “Uh, hi, Evander. What are you doing here?” she asked nervously.

  He raised a brow as if he could see what was on her mind. “I am on my way to take care of a mark. What are you up to?”

  Nivian waved a hand. “Nothing, I’m just tired and… I miss Kain.” It was a cheep shot, using Kain’s name that way to try and avoid unwanted questions.

  He blanched a little, then nodded. “I am sorry. I will leave you to your thoughts then,” he said and stepped out of her path.

  “Wait,” she called. He turned back to her. “Will you give this to Caspian later when you see him?”

  Evander’s eyes went from the letter to the windows of Caspian’s office at the top spire of the building. “He will be back, you could give it—”

  “No, I will probably be busy working on my own mark then.”

  “You—” he started with narrowed eyes.

  “Please, Evander?” she asked quietly.

  She wasn’t sure what went through his mind as he contemplated her request, but the tension in her shoulders eased a bit when he reluctantly took the letter and vanished.

  Each step through the main hall felt like her first, and her last. The feeling of imminent change was nearly tangible.

  One last time, she donned her disguise, blending in with all the other Reapers, oblivious to the turmoil going on under their noses, unaware of the clock ticking down each second. She could have been one of thousands.

  Nivian made her way to the back stairwell and headed down into the heart of G.R.I.M. to Silas’s chambers. The throne room felt much colder and emptier than it had the last time she’d been there, almost haunted.

  Away from the eyes of the others, she ran to the back and searched for the secret door. It took a few minutes, not having thought to mark it the first time.

  Down the stairs to the labyrinth below, she descended, stopping at the tunnels end. The eye felt warm against her skin.

  Pulling it from her shirt, she examined it, the heat from the stone warmed her palm. Not in her imagination then.

  She let it hang on the outside of her shirt. The heat was just a little too intense against her bare skin. She stepped into the room ready to follow the same path as last time, but when she reached the other side of the bed, the hole had been closed.

  The Moirai must still be guiding her. Though their way was frustrating. A few simple words would have saved so much time and frustration.

  Leaving the room, she returned to the tunnel and glanced around. Go back the way she came or… the tunnel’s dark end seemed to shimmer. Nivian approached it cautiously, holding out a hand, and found nothing. The darkness was only an illusion she’d believed to be a wall. She laughed at her own stupidity and entered the void, leaving the pale light of the crystals behind.

  She kept her hand along the side of the tunnel and dragged her feet to avoid stumbling in the pitch dark. The path angled down, spiraling. For a long time, she walked without faltering, wondering if she was even on the right path or if she would find something entirely different than she expected at the end.

  The entire time, the eye seemed to hum with warmth.

  Already, she’d lost track of time. Hours must have passed before the first crystal sprung from the wall. A few feet farther another, and another, until the tunnel resembled the one at the start, except the crystals now glowed with an inner fire casting orange and red hues along the walls and ground.

  Nivian picked up speed, then broke into a run, urging her legs to move faster and faster. She came skidding to a halt as the tunnel turned sharply and she came face to face with a dead end.
/>   Of course, she thought. It wouldn’t be that easy.

  A growl of frustration reverberated through her and she slammed her fist against the wall and almost stumbled as it gave way, bending under the pressure but still resisting. The eye around her neck grew almost unbearably hot and she hissed through her teeth. She jerked the leather cord, lifting the stone away from her.

  A strand of hair tickled her cheek and she absentmindedly pushed it behind her ear.

  Nivian backed up and examined the barrier. The light breeze that seemed to come from nowhere in particular brushed against her cloak, rustling the bottom hem.

  Nivian placed her palms on the wall and pushed until her hands slid through the barrier, heavy and thick as if she were moving through tar. She slid her arm until it disappeared up to her elbow, the sleeve of her cloak rode up and when her chest hit the wall, she couldn’t pass through anymore.

  The eye of the Tome flashed as bright as molten metal and she pulled away from the wall, withdrawing her arm.

  “What?”

  Was the eye trying to communicate with her? She picked it up, surprised by the cool smoothness of it, without a trace of the searing heat from moments ago. It had returned to its dormant state, as if it were nothing more than a pretty stone.

  While her arm had passed through, her cloak had not. The barrier had stopped any part of her covered by her Reapers cloak. Something about the magic within couldn’t pass through.

  It didn’t matter. She had to go in, with or without it.

  Quickly, Nivian stripped off the cloak, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, setting her scythe atop the pile of cloth. She was left feeling vulnerable without them. She had hoped that once she’d found Kain, she could transport them both out. But it looked as if they’d have to make it back at least this far.

  Cracking her knuckles, Nivian placed her hands against the wall and pushed against the barrier. She slipped through without the resistance from the cloak.

  Unfamiliar magic enveloped her, pressing against every inch, squeezing and crushing as if to say: You don’t belong here.

  Claustrophobia crept into the marrow of her bones, tightening with every inhale and exhale, every tiny movement.