The Gifts of Fate

by David T Myers

  Every time someone walked through the door, she tensed up. What if it was the Keres Ter Nyx? It had been a shock to discover they were still staking out Denise’s house. They were more serious about finding her than she’d expected. Why, though? To exploit her visions? Did Angela plan to use them as a weapon against the Erisians?

  The visions were becoming more difficult to control. With each new vision, Shilpy felt her grip on the here and now slip further away. Every day it was becoming harder to determine where she needed to be, and what she needed to worry about. Had this already happened? Was it about to happen? Or was it happening right now? It was maddening.

  Denise was right. Shilpy needed to figure out how to get rid of the visions before she lost her mind. If Angela wanted to abuse her gifts, she might lose her grip on reality altogether. She just needed to resolve this situation, then she was out.

  The front page of the newspaper outlined the latest in the American political circus, followed by a story outlining the latest in the Australian political circus. It also promised a saucy celebrity scandal on page 5.

  The articles held little of interest. Shilpy settled on a story about mindfulness, which seemed appropriate.

  The truth was she was more interested in the newspaper itself than its content. She didn’t usually read the news, but today it was a useful anchor. Something that could keep her present. Shilpy’s eyes kept flicking to the date printed in the header: Tuesday, 12 October. She knew where she was and when she was.

  She checked the lottery numbers, which, amusingly, included 12, 10, 20, and 17—today’s date, she thought with a smile. Then she slumped back into her chair. She wished someone would buy something. Anything to distract her.

  The day remained quiet. Lunch passed through to one o’clock, and still, the bookstore saw no customers.

  Shilpy’s eyes grew heavy, but she dreaded going to sleep. For the past few nights, she’d lain awake praying she wouldn’t have another dream. She was becoming scarily intimate with each of the cracks in the ceiling above her bed.

  A student entered the store a little after 2:00 pm. She browsed through several books and made a small purchase. After the student left, Shilpy sighed with exasperation and returned to the uncomfortable chair behind the desk. She was just about to make a coffee when a familiar surge rushed through her mind.

  Shilpy gripped the desk until her knuckles turned white. Stay present. Please stay present. Then everything slipped away, and she was somewhere else.

  * * *

  The alleyway was long and well lit. The cool air chilled her bare arms. Shilpy spun in a slow circle before recognising she was a few blocks from her flat. The distant drone of cars from nearby King Street, the main road running through Newtown, floated over the buildings.

  In the distance, she could hear shouting, barking, and what sounded like gunfire. She perked her head up, trying to sense where the noise was coming from. The sounds shifted to snarling followed by high-pitched screaming.

  Two men were circling each other at the other end of the road. Wolf raised the Sword of Ponos towards Dusk. Dusk was unarmed. He moved back and forth in a shallow arc, his eyes on Wolf the whole time. Neither man saw Shilpy.

  A figure appeared from the opposite end of the alley and sprinted towards the men. Hond. He was wearing a white singlet covered in bloodstains. Between his hands, he held a round ball the size of a lawn bowl. It pulsed with a faint green light and was wrapped in one of Shilpy’s old towels. He skidded to a halt a few metres from Wolf, his eyes fixed on the two combatants.

  Then he turned around. Like out of a horror movie, the streetlights behind him flickered. The alley erupted into loud barking from dozens of animals. The darkness appeared on the road and started to descend on the men and Shilpy.

  I have to stop this. I have to—

  * * *

  Shilpy howled. She was back in the bookstore. Her whole body was shaking, and her skin had gone clammy. The chill of the alley clung to her. When she shut her eyes, she fancied she could see the shadow monsters leaping towards Dusk and the boxer.

  She dashed to the employee bathroom and seized the sides of the sink with both hands. It felt solid. Yes, solid was good. A pillar to the here and now. She splashed cold water on her face and rubbed it into her eyes and hair. She couldn’t stop shaking.

  The more she saw in the vision, the less there was to like. What were those shadows? Something wicked and violent.

  After collecting herself, she paced up and down between the bookshelves. Perhaps if she read something. Anything to occupy her mind. Except her thoughts kept returning to Dusk in that alley.

  What happens to him? Is that where he dies?

  Her footsteps quickened, and she almost broke into a run.

  Stay focused on the here and now.

  Does the boxer kill him?

  Don’t lose yourself to the vision.

  When will this happen?

  Can I stop it?

  Shilpy took a deep breath. Denise had urged her against using her powers again. Except she had to know. She halted in front of the desk. Placing one hand on the wooden surface to steady herself, she shut her eyes and focused on the alleyway. Once she discovered what happened next, she’d stop. Just one more vision.

  * * *

  The room looked a lot like a lecture theatre at Sydney University. But this place was smaller. Standing in front of a podium was a tall, thin man with greasy black hair pulled back from his forehead. He’d used so much hair product that his hair looked like a solid mass.

  He wore a black pinstriped suit with a white shirt and a blue tie. A blue handkerchief decorated his jacket pocket. He held a small gavel in his hand but clearly wasn’t a judge. Nor was this a courtroom. He slammed the wooden hammer down onto the podium and shouted, “Sold!”

  A splatter of polite applause started behind Shilpy and echoed off the walls. Realising that she wasn’t alone, she looked around the room. The people were all well-to-do, and most were older than her. In fact, she was the youngest one there.

  A younger man in a blue suit scowled at her from across the room. There was nothing friendly about his look. Shilpy returned his stare with calm poise before turning her attention back to the small stage.

  The auctioneer left the podium and took the hand of a fifty-something woman. After congratulating her, he directed her towards a blonde starlet, who looked as though she’d just stepped off the set of a game show. Once they were gone, the auctioneer returned to his spot on the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our next antique is a sword.” The starlet returned carrying a stand. She placed it on a small table to the auctioneer’s right. “This sword is an item of rare and ancient heritage. Originating from Greece, it has been in the same family for the last two hundred years, passed down from one generation to the next. We present for your consideration the antique known as the Sword of Ponos.”

  The starlet carried the sword carefully across the stage and placed it on the stand for all to see.

  Shilpy sat up, wide-eyed. She scanned the room, trying to ascertain where and when this was. A small digital clock hung on the wall. The time was 2:00 pm and the day was 15 October. She was three days in the future. Above was a sign that read, “New Relic Auctions”.

  There was no point in trying to write down the name and time. Shilpy couldn’t very well take the paper slip back with her. Instead, she concentrated on committing them to memory.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, how much can I expect to hear for such a valuable and unique artefact?” The man picked up the gavel again and leaned forward. “Shall we begin the bidding at $10,000?”

  Shilpy began to stand, and—

  * * *

  Shilpy fell forward and rested her head comfortably on someone’s lap. Her short legs stretched out across a bed. A hand rested lightly on top of her head. Fingers were limply entwined in her hair. Shilpy wanted the woman to run those fingers through her hair, but they wouldn’t move.

  “Mummy
, Mummy. Wake up, Mummy!” someone was shouting. Shilpy turned her head and saw Aaliyah. She was only a child, maybe eight years old. Small hands shook the woman upon whose lap Shilpy rested. Over and over she screamed, “Wake up, Mummy. Wake up!” But Mummy didn’t respond.

  Mummy was often like this. Sometimes she went away for a little while. Mummy told Shilpy that they shouldn’t worry about her when she was like this, that she went to her special place. Except sometimes she was gone for a long time. Shilpy’s belly ached. It felt as if she had a woodpecker inside her tummy and it was peck, peck, pecking at the insides.

  “Aaliyah?” Shilpy said.

  “What?” Her sister’s voice was raw and hoarse.

  “Is Mummy dead?”

  “No, but I don’t think she can take care of us anymore.”

  Shilpy started to cry.

  * * *

  Denise laughed loudly at something Thomas had said. They were sitting in Shilpy’s flat. It was the night Shilpy had invited them for dinner. Thomas was going on and on about becoming a self-made millionaire by the time he turned thirty. He joked about a series of ridiculous heirlooms he planned on buying, and how he’d cover everything in gold.

  Dusk was laughing, too. It was a moment to treasure, but Hond would arrive soon, and everything would come crashing down.

  * * *

  Shilpy was lying in her single bed in the dorm room she shared with three of her sisters. Faint snoring rumbled from the corner. It was late, and they were supposed to be asleep.

  The door opened. Soft light spilled onto the wall behind her. Then the door closed again and quiet footsteps padded across the carpet. Shilpy squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to move. Her hands involuntarily squashed her pillow until she had it in a vice-like grip.

  “Shh,” a voice said. She recognised it immediately. It was Mark, from number four.

  The girl in the bed next to hers whimpered. July Stills. She didn’t talk much.

  “I know,” Mark said, in a voice some might think kind. “You need to be brave. This is for the Keres Ter Nyx. The night is with us always.”

  Shilpy flinched at July’s first cry and tried to suppress the rolling feeling in her stomach. Minutes later it was all over, and the man got up and left. The snoring was gone. Only the sound of July’s weeping filled the room. Everyone else pretended to be asleep.

  * * *

  Shilpy sat on a bar stool. Her stomach was grumbling, and she had no idea when she’d last eaten. A glass of water stood on the bar. Her face ached. The woman behind the bar kept glancing at her. “Buy something or leave,” her eyes said.

  Shilpy’s backpack sat on her lap. Something round and heavy weighed down her legs. She opened the bag and found the lawn-bowl-sized crystal ball—the Star of Fate. Beneath the glass, green and grey mist tumbled and turned at the whim of hidden eddies. Shilpy couldn’t even begin to guess at the source of the wind, or whatever was shifting the mist. There was no pattern to it. The movement was gentle, and it was easy to imagine she was looking at a different planet.

  The woman behind the bar coughed, pulling Shilpy’s attention back to her. “Last drinks,” she said.

  Shilpy nodded, on the verge of tears but not sure why.

  * * *

  The surrounding air burned her naked skin and the back of her throat. The only light was from a small brazier in the corner. She wasn’t alone.

  “The Ritual of Seers is a divine responsibility we must all complete,” Angela said. “It reveals to us those who have been touched by the children of our goddess Nyx. The gods may impart upon us divine gifts, which we must wield with great wisdom and responsibility.”

  “Do the gods ever take back their gifts?” Shilpy asked.

  “Do not dwell on such questions. For if the gods wish to punish you, they will devise any manner of tortures far beyond our wildest nightmares.”

  Angela’s firm hand took Shilpy’s, and she knew it was time to begin the ritual.

  * * *

  She was kneeling on the ground. It was day, but the sky had a faint green tinge to it. A mist shifted and tumbled just above her. It was the same colour as and moved identically to whatever was inside the crystal ball.

  Three women observed Shilpy from the opposite side of the road. The Moirai beckoned her. “Come to us,” they said in one voice. “The shadows surround you. Come to us.”

  * * *

  Shilpy tumbled backward into a bookshelf. Her legs collapsed beneath her. The world spun. Half a dozen books spilled from the shelf. The room wouldn’t stop turning. It was worse than being drunk.

  She clutched at the carpet with both hands trying to feel something that was real, something that she could use to ground herself. Was this another vision? Shilpy crawled across the floor and into the bathroom, where she vomited several times.

  She flopped to the ground clutching the toilet seat. The cold porcelain felt reassuring against her cheek. A few minutes passed, and her surroundings didn’t change. Warily, she clambered to her feet and washed the taste of vomit from her mouth. Once presentable, she staggered back to the desk trying to process everything she’d just seen.

  The newspaper lay open on the desk where she’d left it.

  Her mind was a jumble of memories and images. She needed to focus. So many emotions: desperation, fear, shame. Was this what had happened to her mother? Was this why she’d sat on the bed, not moving and reliving things best forgotten?

  She and Aaliyah had been taken away from their mother because people thought she was mad. With the vision still fresh in her mind, Shilpy found it hard to blame them. Maybe things weren’t as black and white as she’d always believed.

  On the other hand, she and her sister hadn’t been stolen away for their well-being. She could relate to what Dusk had said about being controlled and manipulated. She had her own horror stories, and although she’d left before anyone had the chance to touch her, in her silence, Shilpy felt complicit in what had happened on those nights in the Keres Ter Nyx dorm rooms.

  She shook her head. She had to get control back. There was nothing she could do about what had already happened. She had to focus on what she could do now.

  She’d triggered the vision to discover what would happen to Dusk. She’d failed to find out, but now she knew where the sword would be—New Relic Auctions on 15 October. She needed to make sure she was there. She pulled a pen from the drawer and scribbled the date on top of the newspaper.

  She stared at the writing for a long moment. This didn’t actually help her. What good was it to know where the sword was going to be? She didn’t have $10,000 to bid for it.

  That’s when she noticed the date on the newspaper: 9 October. Her phone confirmed it. Hadn’t the newspaper read 12 October before? Had that been a vision? Or was this a memory? Or the present?

  Unsure how long she had before she was swept away somewhere else, she grabbed her bag and raced out the door, leaving a Back in Five Minutes sign.

  Chapter 11

  “Sold!” the auctioneer called, pointing his gavel at Shilpy. “To the pretty Indian lady in the hoody.”

  She stood to a chorus of murmuring. Somebody patted her on the back, but she took no notice. Shuffling down the aisle towards the podium, Shilpy passed her main competitor for the sword, the young man with the bent nose in the blue suit. He stood and blocked her path.

  “Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice icy. Thin lips twisted in a smile of mock politeness.

  “Yes?”

  “I wonder if I could interest you in a side deal. I represent a wealthy individual who would offer an aggressive price for this item.”

  She smiled back at him politely. “A shame he wasn’t here.” She moved to pass him, and when he didn’t budge, she stepped over the vacant seat in the next row down. Blue Suit grabbed her by the arm.

  “Please, miss, if you would speak with me, we can be very—”

  “Please take your hand off me,” Shilpy said. Everyone in the room was staring at them. Blue
Suit either didn’t notice or didn’t care. His eyes remained locked on Shilpy’s, but after a moment he released her. With his other hand, he gave her a business card.

  “Please,” he said.

  Eager to escape, she pocketed the card without looking at it. She stepped into the aisle one row down, crossed to the stairs, and then strode to the bottom of the theatre, where the blonde starlet waited.

  The starlet exchanged a quiet word with the auctioneer, and both gave Mr Blue Suit significant glances. Then the starlet led Shilpy away.

  Shilpy followed the thick smell of perfume into a side room. The starlet ushered her to a table, and they went through the formalities of transferring ownership of the Sword of Ponos.

  “Would you like to pay a deposit?”

  “I’ll pay it in full.” With a small smile, Shilpy wrote a cheque for $37,000. “What happens next?”

  The starlet passed several documents over to be signed and then gave Shilpy instructions on where to go. Shilpy left the auction house and followed the starlet’s directions to a warehouse in an attached building. A surly fifty-something woman with pink hair took the invoice the starlet had given Shilpy. Then she shuffled off to retrieve the sword.

  She placed it in a long mailing box filled with foam and bubble wrap, to protect it during transport. In short order, the box was closed and handed over.

  Just like that, the Sword of Ponos was Shilpy’s.

  She spotted Blue Suit waiting in the car park well before he saw her. No prizes for guessing who he was waiting for.

  Without missing a beat, Shilpy swung away from the car park and trotted back toward the far side of the building, making sure he saw her. After turning a corner, she glanced back in time to see him cursing and hurdling over the fence. Once she was out of sight, she sprinted to the end of the building and turned again.

  Shilpy circled the block until she was back in the deserted car park. A quick glance indicated she’d lost him for the moment. She paid for parking and dashed back to the car, throwing the sword in the back seat.