The Gifts of Fate

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The Gifts of Fate Page 8

by David T Myers


  * * *

  Denise placed two cups of tea onto the table in front of them. She gave Shilpy the strangest of looks. It was only twenty minutes by train from Shilpy’s flat to Denise’s—a three-bedroom affair in Strathfield. Her flatmate, Tim, spent most of the year overseas doing god knows what, so they had the place to themselves.

  Shilpy knew that the Keres Ter Nyx might be watching the flat. If so, they’d know she was here, but that didn’t seem important anymore.

  Shilpy gave Denise a verbal dump of everything she’d seen in the visions up until now. In the dump she also included the fact that Dusk might be involved with the Erisians but would be betrayed in the not-too-distant future. But she didn’t tell her friend that Dusk had been a child soldier. She was still working through that one herself.

  Denise sat with her arms crossed, trying to untangle it all. When Shilpy had finished, Denise leaned back in her chair and stared across the table through half-closed eyes.

  “I need to find this sword.” Shilpy said. “Maybe if I have another vision, or can figure out how to focus it—”

  “Shilps, why is that what you’re worried about? You just told me Dusk is working with the Erisians. Not just working with them—potentially fighting with them against our sisters.”

  “I am worried about that, but the Erisians only seemed interested in protecting themselves. The Keres Ter Nyx were the ones picking the fight. If you saw the way the shadows attacked—”

  “Shilps, that might have just been a dream. You said it yourself.”

  “Denise, it might all be a dream. Everything I’ve seen, including Dusk working for the Erisians, came to me in a vision.”

  Denise’s face dropped, and her eyes widened in sudden realisation. Perhaps at last she understood what a nightmare these visions could be. Shilpy took a sip of her tea.

  “How often are you having visions?” Denise asked in a quiet voice.

  “I’m not sure,” Shilpy said. “Once a day, maybe three times. I think the sword, the shadows, and Eris are all connected. Everything else is building to that. Every time I have that vision of Dusk, I see a little more. For instance, I only saw shadows attacking Dusk in my first vision, and now I can see that Wolf’s the one controlling the shadows with a sword. It’s all connected. I think I’m supposed to stop it. If we can find the sword first, then it won’t happen. Plus, if the two groups start fighting again, then the Erisians won’t be able to use it against the Keres Ter Nyx.”

  “Stop! Listen to yourself!” Denise said, slamming her fist onto the table. Both mugs jumped a fraction into the air. Brown liquid painted the wood. Denise’s face twitched as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “What good is finding the sword if you’re losing your mind? You said you wanted to stop these visions.”

  “I do, but Dusk . . . I can’t leave him to his fate. I won’t, Denise. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “You need to take care of yourself, too.” Denise replied, her tone softening. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re telling me all these things and there are times when I’m not sure if you even know where you are.”

  “I can’t think of me right now. Not until Dusk is safe.”

  “What if he’s a murderer?”

  Shilpy’s heart caught in her throat. What if he was? She didn’t know for sure that he wasn’t. Then again, she didn’t know for sure that he was. Given his upbringing, she couldn’t be so naïve as to think he didn’t have blood on his hands.

  Except he wanted to leave it behind. He’d told her as much. He hadn’t wanted to go after the people who’d killed his boss. He’d been worried about the men. She needed to confront him about it at some point, but there was no evidence. She hadn’t seen him do anything incriminating, either in real life or in a vision.

  “I can’t know anything for sure,” Shilpy said, quickly. A little too quickly, perhaps.

  “He’s a big guy,” Denise said. “Would make a good soldier. Also, have you considered that he might already know you’re Keres Ter Nyx? I mean, what are the odds that two people from each family would just happen to get together? It would mean he’s conning you.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Shilpy said, but she could feel her stomach turning. It was hard to ignore Denise’s logic. Neither family was that big. It did seem improbable that of all the people she could get together with, the one she ended up seeing was a member of a rival cult.

  If it were true, then their entire relationship was a sham. But why? He couldn’t know of her curse. And if he did, and wanted to use it for his own ends, surely he would have brought it up in the last year.

  She’d left the Keres Ter Nyx, so she didn’t know anything about their plans or who had done what. Plus, Dusk had been faithful to her. She’d seen it, or dreamed it.

  As for being a murderer . . .

  “I don’t know what Dusk did or didn’t do. What I do know is this sword is a weapon. Wolf used it to control the shadows. If the Erisians possess the sword, then they can use it against our sisters. We have to stop them.”

  “Stop them? What happened to avoiding Angela’s war?” Denise asked.

  “This isn’t about her.”

  Denise chewed on her bottom lip and played with an earring. It was unfair to ask Denise to get involved in this. The visions, the war, and Dusk’s part in it, whatever that was, had nothing to do with her.

  “Alright, I’ll help you do some research. But that’s it. No more after this, and you’re not allowed to keep smiling at me like that.”

  “I can’t help it,” Shilpy said. When this was all over, she was going to owe her friend big time.

  Denise stood and collected the two mugs from the table. “My computer is in the other room. Let’s see what Google has to say.”

  They made their way to Denise’s bedroom and seated themselves in front of her laptop. For the first time that day, Denise’s face relaxed as her fingers danced across the keyboard.

  “Describe this sword to me again,” Denise said, frowning in concentration. “Were there any distinguishing markings?”

  Shilpy shut her eyes and tried to remember what it looked like. Without meaning to, she went back to the street and watched Dusk talk to Wolf.

  “It has a thin handle. The hilt is long enough for me to wrap both my hands around,” Shilpy almost whispered, in a dreamy voice. “The blade is wide, and about sixty or seventy centimetres long. Inscribed in the centre of the sheath is a symbol of a mostly naked man kneeling forward. He’s carrying a giant stone on his back.”

  When she opened her eyes, she found Denise glaring at her.

  Shilpy shook her head. “Let’s just find the damn thing.”

  They reasoned that the symbol was probably the most searchable feature and renewed the search with that. Denise’s research took them down various rabbit holes and into some of the more interesting corners of the Internet. Anyone else would have found this task impossible, but Denise knew what she was looking for and where to look for it.

  Shilpy watched and marvelled at her friend’s ability to distinguish fantasy from what was a little bit more reliable.

  Alone, Shilpy would have no chance of finding the sword. She knew she could spend an hour chasing down a lead only to find out it was a fictional sword from some computer game. Denise, though, had a background in the families’ lore, and her experience researching the obscure could give them a chance.

  They were still looking when Thomas arrived home.

  He burst into the room complaining loudly about the incompetence of drivers and their crusade to run all cyclists off the road. After a passionate and moderately amusing rant, he flicked his gaze to the computer, and then back to them.

  Denise was still focused on her search. Shilpy, being little help to Denise, alternated her attention between them.

  When it became clear his audience wasn’t going to respond, Thomas launched into a bitter tirade about truck drivers, Sydney people, stop signs, small dogs, and Sydney people.
/>   Shilpy listened patiently, and after several minutes Thomas calmed down. He blew a raspberry, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with a beer for himself and wine for each of them. Shilpy took hers and sipped.

  Thomas took a seat on the bed and chatted amicably while Denise scrolled through yet another website. Shilpy thought he might get bored, but then she noticed him glancing towards the computer again and chewing his bottom lip.

  “D, are you going to be much longer?” he asked at last. “I was hoping to use the computer.”

  Denise didn’t look away from the screen.

  “You’re not still trying to infiltrate the Dark Web, are you?” she answered.

  “You make it sound like I’m doing something dodgy,” he replied, failing to hide the irritation in his voice.

  “Aren’t you? This is pretty important, Thomas.”

  “The guy I’ve been talking to said he’d message me in about ten minutes.”

  “Why don’t you use the Internet on your phone?”

  “I hate the keyboard,” he said, making a face. “My fingers are too fat.”

  “Who’s messaging you?” Shilpy asked, confused.

  “Just a guy,” Thomas replied.

  “He’s trying to buy a fake ID,” Denise said, her irritation giving way to exasperation.

  “Fake passport, not a fake ID. I’m not a sixteen-year-old trying to buy a packet of cigarettes.”

  Shilpy shook her head. How much trouble was this guy in? Based on his body language, he was definitely agitated. His gaze kept returning either to the computer or his watch. He’d previously suggested that he was running from something, but Shilpy had always thought it was just talk.

  “Who are you running from that you need a fake passport?” she asked.

  “I told you before—I’m trying to avoid certain people I don’t want to go to war against.”

  Shilpy frowned. There was that word again. War. It was strange that she kept hearing it. What if . . .

  “Maybe we should take a break, Denise,” she said, sipping her wine. “I don’t know if we’re getting anywhere. We’ve been at it for ages.”

  “Thank you, Shilps. See, Shilps knows how to share.” Thomas grinned.

  “Found it!” Denise cried, and spun the laptop around so Shilpy could get a better look.

  Displayed on the screen was a list of objects with strange names. The row Denise pointed to contained a link to an item: the Sword of Ponos. Next to the link was the same symbol Shilpy had seen on the sword’s sheath in her vision. She leaned forward for a better look. Then something else caught her eye, and she froze.

  Above the link to the sword was a link with a picture of a small green ball next to it. The same green ball she’d seen in her visions of Dusk kneeling in the street. Next to the picture was the name of the item: the Star of Fate. A shiver moved up and down her spine. She’d heard that term before. The Moirai had spoken of it on the night of the Ritual of Seers.

  “You okay?” Thomas asked, looking at her.

  “Fine,” she said.

  Denise selected the link to the sword and a new page replaced the old one.

  “The Sword of Ponos belonged to the god of toil and labour—son of Eris, the goddess of discord.” Denise stopped and glanced in Shilpy’s direction, her eyes wide. She read on. “The sword itself features heavily in the trials of Stipaul, the Greek demigod who supposedly retrieved the sword from a stone vault buried deep within the Earth. Stipaul is said to have used the sword to defeat the Shadow King in the war of shadows, according to the ancient texts of Thalna.”

  Denise scrolled down the page, and Shilpy leaned forward. Two photos came into view. Thomas moved next to her and frowned.

  “What’s this?” he asked, looking at the screen.

  “There are two known swords that each claim to be the Sword of Ponos,” Denise read.

  “That one,” Shilpy said, pointing to the image on the right. Denise and Thomas looked at her. “That’s the sword I saw.”

  “You saw this?” Thomas asked, his eyes narrowing. The women glanced at each other.

  “I saw the sword in a magazine,” Shilpy said hurriedly. “Dusk is into swords, and I thought I might buy it for his birthday.”

  Denise rolled her eyes.

  Thomas looked at Shilpy sceptically but then shrugged.

  “Well,” he said. “You might have found the sword online, but it doesn’t say who the owner is. So I don’t know how you’ll find it.”

  Shilpy typed the web address into her phone.

  “Could I use the computer now?” Thomas asked. Denise pushed her chair away from the desk, and they left Thomas to his shady transaction. Denise offered to cook dinner. Shilpy agreed to stay, and as her friend prepared the meal, she studied her phone.

  “The Star of Fate is a sacred relic belonging to the Moirai, the goddesses of fate,” she read to herself. “According to mythology, the Star changed the fate of a baker boy and turned him into the king of the realm.” Why was she having visions about an object that could change a person’s fate?

  “What was that?” Denise asked, from the kitchen. Shilpy pocketed her phone and smiled.

  “Nothing.”

  Chapter 9

  Shilpy was halfway to the train station before she realised she was being followed. The van was the same one that had pulled up outside Madame Jessica’s. Where it had come from, Shilpy couldn’t be sure. It certainly hadn’t been waiting near Denise’s.

  The van was definitely following her. It was a block behind and driving too slowly. It also didn’t have its lights on. Shilpy kept her head down and tried her best not to glance over her shoulder.

  There had been five women in the van at Madame Jessica’s. How many were in there now? Probably not as many. If they were staking out Denise’s house, it wouldn’t make sense to have that many people sitting in a van just in case their target turned up.

  That might be why they hadn’t grabbed her straight away. They were waiting for reinforcements. They knew Shilpy had been trained to fight. What they didn’t know was how unfit she currently was. The truth was, she’d got lucky at Madame Jessica’s. If it came to it, Shilpy doubted she’d be able to take down one of these women, let alone five.

  She kept heading towards the train station. With luck, any extra support would be sent there. So long as Shilpy continued in that direction, the van might hold back.

  Still, she couldn’t actually go to the train station. What to do? Then it came to her.

  She turned off into a long lane. It wasn’t well lit, but the left side was filled with apartment block after apartment block. The right was fenced off, and the fence was in various states of disrepair.

  Shilpy picked up the pace. This lane didn’t exactly lead to the train station, but it would take her in the general direction. Eventually, it would turn back into Mosely Street, which would take her back towards the station. But more importantly, further down, she could take a shortcut through a park directly behind one of the apartment buildings to Everton Street and Strathfield station. A shortcut that the van wouldn’t be able to take.

  If she could lose the van for just a few minutes, but fool the driver into thinking she was still going to the train station, she might be able to escape.

  She didn’t dare look back as she walked down the narrow lane. It wasn’t the sort of street she would choose to walk down after dark and, despite her efforts to appear calm, she broke into a light trot.

  At last, she reached the apartment she was after. She climbed over a small iron fence and skipped across the grass and between the flats. The van wouldn’t be able to follow her now. Sure enough, she heard a dull roar behind her as the van gunned its engine and sped down the lane. No doubt it would try and circle around and catch her at the other end of the shortcut.

  Once it had shot past, she turned back the way she’d come and climbed over the fence again. She sprinted through the night back up towards a section of fencing that had almost fallen dow
n on the other side of the lane. She climbed over it and into a backyard.

  The lights in the house were on, and she could hear the dull roar of a television. Fortunately, the residents had closed the curtains.

  Shilpy found a spot in the shadows and called a taxi. She heard a vehicle rumble past, but whether it was the van she couldn’t be sure.

  Dammit, that was too close. She needed to be more careful.

  She drew her knees up to her chest and waited, lost in thought. She knew she should move closer to the road, but she had access to the driveway from where she sat and would easily see the taxi when it pulled up.

  “How could they lose her?” an angry voice said from behind the fence. The voice belonged to a woman with a faint European accent. Shilpy didn’t dare move.

  “Bunch of incompetents. Who is this girl anyway?” another woman said, her voice a little louder than her companion’s. The two women were walking up the street towards her location.

  “Mother Wick wouldn’t say. But she wants her bad. She keeps saying the war isn’t over yet.”

  “Tell that to the other mothers. Check the other side of that fence.”

  Shilpy held her breath and pulled her knees in closer, trying to move as far into the shadows as she could. The fence she was leaning against groaned under the weight of whoever was leaning against it. A shadowy face appeared above the fence line.

  It looked right and then towards Shilpy before disappearing.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay, let’s try the next one.”

  A moment later light spilled onto the driveway. Shilpy leaped to her feet and sprinted across the lawn, dodging and jumping over various children’s toys until she reached the taxi.

  Chapter 10

  The bookstore was quiet. A few of the usual customers stopped by, but none bought anything. Towards lunchtime, Shilpy found herself flicking through the Sydney Morning Herald looking for a distraction.

 

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