The Gifts of Fate

by David T Myers

  “I do think that Angela uses the stories about Nyx and the Moirai to control us.” Shilpy sighed and took a big sip of her coffee, trying to collect her thoughts. “I don’t know for sure that the goddesses are real. Maybe it’s just me, and I’m going mad, but if they do exist, they aren’t what we were taught. They have their own agendas. During the Ritual of Seers, I saw them and then denounced them to Angela’s face. I told her they weren’t divine—they were horrible. When I did that, Angela tried to kill me. I’m the heretic. I don’t know what I saw, or what they are. I don’t know whether they’re gods, figments of my imagination, nightmares, hallucinations brought about by my curse, or something else entirely.”

  “But, you don’t think they’re hallucinations, do you?”

  Shilpy shook her head. “Whatever they are, whatever my relationship is with them, I think they want something from me.”

  Denise slumped back in her chair. She massaged her forehead with her knuckles, and her eyes took on a faraway expression. Shilpy reached across the table for her friend’s other hand. Denise didn’t take it, but she didn’t pull away either.

  “You asked what I think about you,” Shilpy said. “I think you are the smartest, wisest, and most beautiful person I know. I . . . I need you. I don’t know how I’d survive without you.”

  Denise looked a little embarrassed and surprised by the outburst. The two women stared at each other for a long moment, and then their hands found their way together. Shilpy smiled. Denise rolled her eyes.

  “Most beautiful person you know, huh?”

  “Absolutely, although remember, I don’t know that many people.”

  “Bitch,” Denise said in exasperation. “Alright, if what I think matters to you, then here’s what I think. I have to believe you had a bad dream. I think you should be far more weirded out by your uninvited guest last night.”

  Shilpy’s heart sank. Her friend still didn’t believe. She was on her own after all.

  “Dusk said—”

  “Yes, you told me what Dusk said. But Shilpy, that guy was . . . wrong. He really creeped me out.”

  “Me too,” Shilpy said. “They returned to Melbourne this morning. There’s a chance I may never see Hond again.”

  “Aren’t you worried that Dusk is working with someone like that?”

  “Of course I am, but until I talk to him, I’m just not sure what I can do about it. Dusk is so secretive. If he’s in trouble, I wouldn’t know.”

  Denise nodded in agreement.

  “Maybe I can find more out through my dreams,” Shilpy said.

  “What dreams?”

  Shilpy told her about the most recent vision—Dusk being overwhelmed by shadows and the harpy-like figure looming over him. Denise listened intently, and her expression changed from one of scepticism to one of concentration and interest.

  “A harpy?” she said. “You’re sure.”

  “I didn’t take it seriously at first because it was so out there. Except after . . . after last night.”

  Denise chewed on her bottom lip. “The woman, no, the creature you describe sounds familiar.” She pulled out her phone and manipulated the screen with her finger.

  Shilpy nearly sighed with relief. Denise, with her background in lore and research, would at least have a clue as to where to look for answers. Shilpy knew of several websites and forums where people shared information about the cult and associated dogma. But she’d avoided them as a rule. Also, she didn’t want to fill her head with the sort of things her sisters discussed on a day-to-day basis.

  Denise had a much deeper and wider body of knowledge to draw upon. She knew where to go and, more importantly, where not to.

  “Okay, the Moirai represent order and fate. In the dream, what do you think they wanted?” Denise asked, her finger still swiping back and forth on her phone.

  “They said ‘Beware the shadows.’ Could be they’re trying to warn me about something?”

  “Unlikely, if it was real. The Moirai are the goddesses of fate. By their nature, they would want you to stumble into trouble. Shadows, though, that’s interesting. A harpy and shadows . . . Anything else you can remember?”

  Shilpy frowned and thought long and hard. Was there anything else? She couldn’t recall anything. She shook her head.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Denise said triumphantly. “I’ve got something.”

  “What is it?”

  “I ran a search on all the gods and goddesses. One of them takes the form of a harpy.”

  Denise shuffled her chair next to Shilpy’s and shared her phone. On the small screen was an article explaining Greek mythology. An artist’s interpretation of the harpy creature stared at them from behind the screen. Shilpy read the caption below.

  “Eris.” Her heart went cold. There was more information, but she didn’t need to read it. “The goddess of discord and strife. A creature who used chaos and strife to fuel ambition or to destroy men everywhere, depending on who you ask.” She recited the information from memory.

  “Eris has her own family,” Denise said. “A group similar to the Keres Ter Nyx. They call themselves the Erisians, or the Knights of Eris. If your dream is symbolic of anything, it isn’t a healthy mind. If I’m right and this was all just a dream, then maybe you feel like your life is out of balance and you’re looking for order. What do you know about the guy from last night?”

  “Hond?” Shilpy said, in a small voice. “Nothing.”

  “Could his appearance have triggered something psychosomatic?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think so. Although it is possible, I guess.”

  “It would explain a lot.”

  “What if I’m right, though?” Shilpy asked.

  “If you’re right, that’s a whole other question.”

  “What question is that?”

  “What would Eris want with Dusk?”

  Chapter 6

  An empty flat waited for Shilpy when she returned home that evening. The blanket Hond had slept with lay on the floor. He could have at least tidied his bed.

  After cleaning up, she opened a bottle of Sauv Blanc and sat on the balcony. It was still daylight saving, so there would be another hour or two of light. The waning sun warmed her skin. The busy world hustled and bustled beneath her, and she enjoyed the view of the buildings on the opposite side of the road.

  Where was Dusk? What was he doing? It seemed insane he would appear in a dream next to the goddess of strife. Maybe Denise was right, and the dream was just a dream. Why then did she feel so unsettled?

  Most dreams were like bubbles of air—transient things that floated to the top of her consciousness only to pop when she awoke from slumber. The visions felt similar. Except sometimes she couldn’t tell what was a bubble, and what was water. The past and present became mixed up in her head. It was difficult enough to distinguish between the two, let alone separate nightmares and visions.

  The images of Dusk felt different. They were too horrible to ignore.

  Could it have something to do with Melbourne?

  Right now, Shilpy didn’t care about any stupid secrecy agreements. Gods were visiting her dreams. This wasn’t a damn Homer epic. She needed answers.

  She went inside and paced back and forth in the living room. She switched on the television, but after channel-surfing for a few minutes turned it off again. Her foot tapped the ground in a fast-paced rhythm. Her eyes kept returning to her phone on the kitchen bench. Did she dare ring Angela?

  Dusk was in danger, and Angela might have some insight into a connection between him and the gods. Was she so afraid of this woman from her past that she was willing to risk the man she loved being hurt?

  She stared at the phone for a long moment, and then one of Dusk’s black shirts caught her attention. Dusk had left it lying on his side of the bed. He usually wore them beneath the grey suit he loved so much.

  Shilpy strode into the bedroom, climbed onto the bed and stared at the shirt. What if . . .

  N
o, she couldn’t. Could she? Shilpy placed her hand lightly on the black cotton.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on the shirt. “Show me,” she whispered.

  She’d half expected nothing to happen, but the moment the words left her lips, images bombarded her mind.

  * * *

  A skinny dark-skinned boy, maybe eleven or twelve, walked through the bush in shorts, an oversized T-shirt, and a pair of thongs. An assault rifle was slung over his shoulder. Everything shifted -

  * * *

  The same boy stood in the middle of the bush before a small crowd of men dressed in rags and dirty combat fatigues. All their clothes were mismatched, seemingly scavenged or stolen from wherever they could acquire them.

  Three of the men were beating on drums and singing while a near-naked shaman danced in front of a small campfire. He moved in a series of shallow circles and threw vegetation into the flames until the drumming stopped. The boy stepped forward and the shaman placed a hand on the back of the boy’s neck. He guided him towards the campfire and pushed his face into strange-coloured smoke.

  * * *

  “This whole shop is going to burn to the ground,” Shilpy whimpered.

  The lights to the store were off, but lining every bookshelf, each chair, and the counter where she sold novels were countless tea lights, each glowing with a small flame. At the centre of the shop, tea lights surrounded a picnic blanket. On top of the blanket rested a bag filled with plastic takeaway containers of what smelled like Indian food.

  “Welcome,” Dusk said, stepping out from behind a nearby bookshelf. Overcome, Shilpy could only gape. She spun around in a circle, taking it all in. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

  “You . . . did this . . . for me?” she said. “I’m so fired if my boss comes in.”

  Dusk laughed a deep, booming laugh. “He won’t.” He walked to the door and changed the sign from Open to Closed. Then he took her hand and led her through the store and into the circle of candles. After guiding her into a kneeling position on the blanket, he produced some utensils, two plates, two wine glasses, and a bottle of Pinot.

  Shilpy couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was all so over the top. So dangerous. So unbelievably romantic. While Dusk served dinner, she could only stare at him. He smiled up at her, the light from the candles illuminating his white teeth.

  “Why?” Shilpy asked.

  “Does there need to be a reason for me to spoil you?”

  She leaned forward onto all fours and kissed him. The kiss was long and soft, and when it was finished, she rested her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

  “All my life, I’ve never felt like I belonged,” Dusk said. Shilpy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Even where I grew up, people treated me differently. I’ve spent so much of my life apologising for things. With you, I feel like I’ve finally found a home. This is something I want to see grow, and be part of.”

  They kissed once more, and—

  * * *

  Dusk sat in the passenger seat of a car staring out of the window. Hond was behind the wheel. His half-closed eyes watched the road as he weaved around trucks and an assortment of cars.

  “You never said it would be like this,” Hond said. Dusk didn’t reply. “I’m losing my teeth.”

  “Then stop using it,” Dusk said.

  “You know I can’t do that. There’s too much at stake.”

  “Is there?” Dusk glanced at him. “It’s just a bunch of old men competing with a bunch of old women to see who can mumble into whose ear the loudest.

  “They think the Day of Announcement is coming, and once they parade their blessed before the world, like circus freaks, the masses will abandon their churches and synagogues and join them.” Dusk blew a raspberry.

  Hond gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You don’t believe in the Day of Announcement?”

  “I don’t believe it will go down as they think. Feel free to involve yourself in their drama and manipulations, but after we finish this business, I’m done with all of it.”

  “Once you’re gone, you know what will happen to me,” Hond said. “You were the one they invited to Australia.”

  “I introduced you to them. They can’t deny what you can do for them.”

  “They won’t keep me on.”

  “Then leave. Find something else.”

  “And do what? I have power, and that scares them. They’re scared of both of us. You know this. You should be running things, my friend, not Mestor.”

  “Hond.” Dusk sighed, his eyes fixed on the road. “We’ve been over this.”

  “Of course. What she wants is more important than what you deserve,” Hond said, all but spitting out the word “she”.

  Dusk shot him a dark look but then turned away to watch the traffic glide past.

  “They’re right about you, you know,” Hond said at last. “You could be so much more.”

  The two men fell silent.

  * * *

  Shilpy stood in a gym of some kind. She spun around in a slow circle watching several men and women working out. The sounds of gloved fists striking bags or gym junkies grunting under their weights echoed off the walls. Someone blew a whistle and all the participants transitioned to the next piece of equipment and started a new exercise.

  A shout of delight erupted near the entrance, and three well-muscled men dressed in tank tops converged on Dusk and Hond.

  Dusk bumped fists and exchanged elaborate handshakes with each man, acknowledging them by name: Jim, Terry, and Wolf—the man Dusk had spoken with on the phone the night before.

  Wolf was a grim-faced man. He stood a little shorter than Dusk, and he wasn’t barrel-chested, but there was little doubt he could handle himself in a tussle. He had a way about him, a quiet confidence, and when he spoke the others fell silent. This was a man who was used to being in charge.

  “Glad to have you, Dusk. I’m still getting up to speed.”

  “We weren’t sure you were coming back,” Terry said, casting a dirty side look at Wolf.

  Dusk patted him on the shoulder and gave him a nod. “Job’s not done yet. Excuse us.” He turned his attention to Wolf. “Shall we, my friend?”

  Wolf nodded, and without another word the two men crossed the wooden floor and headed towards a small room. Shilpy was about to follow when she caught sight of Hond seizing Terry by the arm. “We need to be ready,” he said.

  Terry gently pulled his arm away. Hond leaned closer to the large boxer. “You know who Dusk is. You’ve seen the proof. If you truly serve her, then let your loyalty lie with the man who deserves it.”

  “Dusk should tell me himself if he needs me. You’re alright, Hond, but I won’t work for you.”

  Hond laughed in a self-deprecating way. “He isn’t asking you to follow me. We all need to support him. Do you really think Wolf is going to make things right after what happened to Hammerstein?”

  Terry thought for a moment, but his face remained sceptical. Hond shifted from one foot to the next. Whatever Hond had planned, the other man wasn’t buying, and Hond knew it. Terry was just about to walk away when Hond caught him by the arm again.

  “I’ve seen how they treat you. I know you’re not happy.” Terry set his jaw and shot Hond a dangerous look. Hond pressed on. “They already expelled Davis and Breezy. Why? Because they both had criminal records. Now the enemy is returning. Dusk won’t betray you.”

  “Dusk’s going to move to Sydney to be with his bird,” Terry said, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Something pulled at Shilpy, and she stumbled a few steps towards the office Dusk and Wolf had just entered. She was being drawn there. Then the world around her shifted, and she was standing in a corner of the office. Wolf had taken a seat and was leaning backward giving Dusk a hard look.

  The wall behind him was filled with posters of boxers and previous fights. Behind closed doors, the
men were doing nothing to hide their agitation.

  “The boys are happy to see you again,” Wolf said. “Since my injuries, we haven’t had a decent field leader who inspires—”

  “First things first,” Dusk said. “Hammerstein. How did it happen?”

  Wolf ran a hand through his hair, and his gaze softened. “Shot while putting out the garbage. His family was home at the time.”

  Dusk nodded and ran the tips of his forefinger and thumb together. Something he did a lot when he was thinking.

  “Is anyone else exposed?” Dusk asked. “Anyone else they might hit?”

  “Hard to say. We don’t know why Hammerstein was shot. It came out of nowhere. We haven’t had any interaction with the enemy since they agreed to peace.”

  “We can’t let them hurt anyone else.”

  “We won’t.”

  “How can I help?”

  “It’s already being taken care of. I want you to focus on finding the sword.”

  “If it comes down to a fight, you’ll need Hond.”

  “If I need him, I’ll use him,” Wolf replied. “I’d prefer to use more conventional means of solving our problems, if I’ve got the option.”

  “If not?”

  “Then I’ll do what I must to protect our men. The Erisians won the war. Some within the Keres Ter Nyx might think the fight is still going. If people need disciplining, we’ll give them the opportunity to handle it internally, but to our satisfaction. If they don’t, they’ll regret it.” Dusk nodded in agreement. Wolf leaned towards him. “Now about the sword—”

  “Dennis, the sword wasn’t part of my deal. It’s not why you brought me here.”

  Wolf sighed heavily and ran his hand across his face. “You’re right. But remember, you haven’t exactly kept your side of the bargain either.”

  “How long are you going to hold that over me? I was invited to Australia to resolve your troubles with the Keres Ter Nyx, which I did.”

  “We invited you here because we were told you were blessed.”

  Dusk laughed.

  * * *

  Shilpy snatched her hand away and tumbled backward off the bed. Dusk’s bitter laugh followed her all the way back to their Sydney flat.