“Hello? Hello! You have to help me. It’s an emergency. Please help! Yes, yes, it’s Denise, Denise Gibbs. My boyfriend, he’s collapsed. He hit his head, I think. No, you don’t understand—he was holding the Star of Fate when he collapsed.”
Shilpy froze, and her mouth dropped. Who the hell was she talking to?
“Shilpy. Shilpy Chopra. She said the Moirai gave it to her. Thomas touched it, and now he’s lying on the ground. He isn’t moving, Mother. It did something to him.”
Mother? Oh no!
Panic built in Shilpy’s chest and stomach. If Angela knew where she was, if she found her, there was no telling what she’d do. She’d always been hungry for power. It was impossible to forget the look of greed she’d had in her eyes when she discovered what Shilpy could do during the Ritual of Seers. And the Moirai had warned Shilpy to protect the Star. If she was supposed to deliver this to someone then she needed to keep it away from both the Keres Ter Nyx and the Erisians.
Thomas was still bleeding. His dull eyes focused on something just past her, as though he were in a trance. There was no sign of his usual energy and humour.
Denise covered the phone with her hand. “Angela says we should put the Star on his chest. See if that does anything. She says not to touch it with your skin. Get the gloves from my bag in the kitchen.”
Shilpy raced into the kitchen, pausing only to pull on her jeans and shirt.
In short order, she found the gloves in Denise’s handbag and returned to the living room. Even through the gloves, the orb felt warm.
Shilpy placed the Star over Thomas’s heart, praying for something to happen. With each passing second, Denise’s frantic energy built. After half a minute, she pushed Shilpy away and wrapped her hands in the bed sheet. She drove the crystal ball harder into Thomas’s chest, but nothing moved. They repositioned the sphere on his forehead. Nothing. His eyes stared up into oblivion.
“It’s not working,” Denise reported into the phone.
Shilpy wrung her hands. Drool slid from the corner of Thomas’s mouth. It left a trail across his cheek and pooled in his blood-soaked hair.
Remembering Denise had a first-aid kit in the bathroom, Shilpy sprung to her feet and retrieved it from the cabinet. Kneeling beside Thomas, she applied some antiseptic and secured a dressing with a bandage. He probably needed stitches, but that was beyond her skills.
By the time Shilpy was done, Denise had hung up the phone.
“She’s coming,” Denise said. Shilpy took a deep breath. Of course she was coming. And it was doubtful that she was coming out of any concern for Thomas’s health. “Don’t even think about running, or if you do, you’re leaving that behind.” Denise pointed at the Star of Fate.
Shilpy climbed to her feet. She stepped to one side and Denise took her place, clasping Thomas’s hand in hers.
“He’s going to be okay,” Denise said, her voice breaking slightly. “Angela will know how to reverse it.”
Would she? The Moirai had said the Star of Fate came with a price. Was this what they meant? Was Thomas a sacrifice to the goddesses? The Star of Fate had been warm to the touch, even through gloves. Did that mean it was . . . what? Charged up?
Shilpy pressed her lips together and hated herself for what she needed to do. She prayed Denise would one day forgive her.
“Hand me a pil—” Denise’s sentence was cut short when Shilpy’s arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her into a sleeper hold. She writhed like a wildcat caught in a trap. Her foot stomped down on Shilpy’s, and her elbow struck her in the stomach. Shilpy inhaled sharply but worked through the pain. She tightened her grip around Denise’s neck.
Denise pulled and pushed, trying to knock her opponent off balance or into a wall. She nearly succeeded in throwing Shilpy over her hip, but at the last second, Shilpy regained her feet.
After what felt like an eternity, the struggles lessened in intensity and grew weaker before finally stopping. Denise’s body went limp. Shilpy maintained the hold for a few moments to ensure her friend wasn’t playing possum. Then she gently laid her on the couch.
After checking Denise’s pulse and making sure she was still breathing, Shilpy dialled triple zero. “I need an ambulance. There are two people unconscious here. One is bleeding from his head.”
She left the address and hung up. Denise’s bag was still in the kitchen. Shilpy emptied the contents onto the bench and placed the Star of Fate inside. Then she ran.
Chapter 14
The early morning train to the city was standing room only. Most of the commuters were suits headed to their office jobs. Huddled together, they were like a colony of emperor penguins.
Shilpy felt queasy and soiled. Denise was a good person, and perhaps her only true friend. What sort of friend leaves her friend lying on the floor while she runs off to save her own skin?
Had she made the right choice? Maybe Denise was right, and Angela could use the Star to revive Thomas.
No. If she handed it over, she might lose it forever. The Moirai were the only ones who understood how it worked. Shilpy needed to have another vision. Get them to tell her how to heal Thomas.
Angela would already be on her way to Denise’s. And Denise would tell her where to find the Star of Fate. Any chance for a normal life was gone now. They’d found her. It was time to run.
Shilpy had to warn Dusk, and together they could escape before the Keres Ter Nyx arrived. How was she going to explain all this? If he’d been fighting the Keres Ter Nyx, how would he react?
The train arrived on the familiar streets of Newtown all too quickly. Shilpy sprinted from the station with Denise’s bag wrapped over her shoulder. She bolted through the narrow streets of parked cars and picket-fenced terraces, past white walls covered with layer after layer of spaghetti-like graffiti, until she finally reached the two-storey building. She took the stairs two at a time and burst through the door.
“Dusk!”
Hond looked up from the couch.
“Shilpy,” he said. “You’re home.”
She shook her head. “Where’s Dusk?”
Hond’s head turned towards the bedroom. Shilpy rushed past him but never made it. In one deft move, Hond found his feet. Something hard hit her on the back of the head. The world exploded in pain. Shilpy collapsed to her hands and knees. Stunned, she noticed something warm and red staining her hand. She struggled to climb back up, but Hond struck her again, and everything went black.
* * *
The world slipped slowly and painfully back into view. Where was she? The Keres Ter Nyx must already be on their way? How long had it taken them to fix up the mess at Denise’s?
Her head cleared and she realised her hands were fastened behind her back and each leg was secured to a chair with zip ties. Shilpy’s head was pounding, and everything looked fuzzy. Something struck her cheek, and the stinging pain brought reality rushing back.
Hond sat opposite. Both hands were pressed together, and his fingers formed a steeple. Shilpy frantically surveyed the room, trying to get her bearings. She was still in her apartment. The evening sun’s warm orange glow lit the curtains. She’d been out all day.
Dusk? Where was Dusk?
“You’ve been a bad girl, my friend,” Hond said, bringing Shilpy back to the present.
He grinned at her, and for the first time, Shilpy noticed he was missing teeth. “Looking for this?” He pulled the Sword of Ponos from behind the couch. “How did you get this?”
“I can explain, but I need to see Dusk—” Hond struck her with the back of his hand. Shilpy’s head snapped around, and stars filled her vision. She shook her head and licked blood from her split lip.
“How did you get this?” Hond repeated, his voice dripping with malice and a smile tugging at his lips. He was enjoying this, the sick bastard.
Shilpy felt a familiar rush within her head. The vision took her, and when her lips moved, it was as if someone else were talking.
“They beat you, didn’t they?” s
he said.
“What?” He frowned.
“Ctlu and his friends. They beat you with long sticks down by the river when you were eight. They said it would make you stronger, but really it was because they enjoyed it. They didn’t like you.” Hond’s eyes widened. “They enjoyed it, and they knew you couldn’t stop them because you’re so weak.”
Hond struck her again. Harder this time. But the sense of watching herself from the outside dulled the pain. She laughed. “Just like the Erisians. They don’t like you either. When Dusk leaves, so will you. Bye, bye, Australia.”
“Who are you?” Hond leaned backward. Shilpy noted with perverse satisfaction that he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I’m the owner of that sword. I see things.”
“What sort of things?” He leaned forward again.
“The past, the future, whatever the Moirai choose to show me,” Shilpy said dreamily. Without warning, Shilpy felt another rush and the vision was over. She collapsed into the chair exhausted and sore.
“You’re Keres Ter Nyx,” Hond replied in a cold voice.
“No.”
He raised his hand to strike her once more, but Dusk grabbed Hond by the wrist and silenced him with a look.
Where had he come from? The bedroom. He must have been listening from the bedroom.
“You agreed to let me question her,” Hond said.
“Question, not beat.”
Shilpy could barely believe her ears. Had he been here the whole time? He had to have overheard everything—he’d allowed Hond to strike her.
Dusk crossed to the other side of the room and stood in front of the window. His body was a bright silhouette against the glow behind the curtains. With a shock, Shilpy realised night was about to fall.
“No more lies. Where did you find the sword?” Dusk asked.
“You know where I found it,” she replied. “I bought it at the auction.”
“Did the Keres Ter Nyx fund this?”
He thought she was Keres Ter Nyx. What was worrying though, wasn’t that he thought she was Keres Ter Nyx, but that he didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. He was calm, professional—almost clinical. Strange. Could Denise have been right about him?
“No, the Moirai showed me how to get the money,” she said. “Although, the Keres Ter Nyx are coming here soon.”
Dusk and Hond exchanged a look.
“They’re coming for the sword?”
“No, they don’t know about the sword,” Shilpy replied, looking away.
“She’s lying,” Hond said.
Frowning, Dusk looked her up and down. “No, I don’t think she is.”
“She’s manipulating you.”
“If they aren’t coming for the sword, what are they coming here for?” Dusk asked.
Before she could stop them, her eyes locked onto the handbag. Both men turned and then exchanged another a look. Hond crossed the room and opened the bag. Green light bathed the space. Shilpy felt a brief surge of hope and despair. Despair that she’d failed both Thomas and Denise and still hadn’t been able to protect the Star. Hope that maybe the Star would do to Hond what it had done to Thomas. He reached for it.
“Don’t!” Dusk snapped. Hond’s hand froze.
Dusk moved to the bag and looked inside. Both men’s eyes flicked back to Shilpy. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s called the Star of Fate,” Shilpy said.
“Star of what?”
“Star of Fate. It belongs to the Moirai. They gave it to me.”
“The Moirai must like you to give you all these gifts,” Hond muttered, eyeing the ball greedily.
“They gave this to you,” Dusk repeated, his voice cracking. His hand clenched and unclenched, and his jaw went rigid.
“What does it do?” Hond asked.
“It changes a person’s fate,” Shilpy said. “It makes them extraordinary, blessed. Except when Thomas touched it, he fell into a coma.”
“The Moirai gave this to you,” Dusk repeated.
Shilpy nodded. “I didn’t want to take it, but the Moirai said people would die if I didn’t.” She turned to Dusk. “Including you.”
Dusk laughed bitterly. “Changes fate? It’s not enough to have Mestor lying to me, the Keres Ter Nyx sending a spy to pretend to be in love with me, the ALA . . .” He trailed off, his voice choking up with emotion. He swallowed and tried to compose himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less filled with anger. “Now the goddesses of destiny, the ultimate manipulators, want to change fate. After all that misery we lived through growing up. When does it end?”
Pretend to be in love with him? Spy? So he hadn’t known.
Hond seemed to be dealing with the story a little better than Dusk. “Why buy the sword?” he asked.
Shilpy closed her eyes and sighed. When she spoke, she addressed Dusk, ignoring Hond. “In a vision, I saw the man you called Wolf fighting you in the street with the sword. The shadow dogs were there, and I thought the sword controlled them. They were, or are, going to kill you, these shadows.” Both men stared at her with incredulous looks on their faces.
“Dusk, these items,” Hond said. “There is power in them. They have come to you for a reason.”
“Hond—”
“You cannot deny this. These are your birthright.”
“I don’t want them. Mestor is after the sword. That’s what matters.”
“Screw Mestor. You should be in charge of the Erisians. You’ve seen it. You know it.” Hond pulled a gun from his back pocket and cocked it, but Dusk put a hand over the weapon and shook his head.
Oh, for goodness’ sake. They didn’t have time for this. “You didn’t hear me before. I said the Keres Ter Nyx are coming. Denise will bring them here.”
Both men turned to her when she said Denise’s name. Finally, they understood.
“How soon?”
“How long have I been unconscious?”
Dusk licked his lips and looked sideways at Hond. “You know what to do.”
Hond nodded and lifted a backpack from behind the couch. He rummaged through the contents for half a minute before pulling a black wooden box from the bag. Inside was a small statuette of a harpy—Eris. With reverence, Hond carried the box and figurine into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
“What is he doing?” Shilpy asked.
“Calling for reinforcements,” Dusk replied.
He paced back and forth in front of the window. This was the most agitated she’d ever seen him look.
“I came back for you,” Shilpy said. Dusk stopped pacing. He wouldn’t meet her eye.
“Things might get ugly. It will be better if you stay here.”
“Tied up?” she asked.
Dusk grimaced. “It won’t be for long. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”
“Did you tell that to Hond?” she asked, in a raised voice.
“I wasn’t sure what to think. Can you even begin to understand how often people have abused my trust? Abused me? I’ve been turned into a monster. It’s hard for me to trust anyone.”
“Do you really think I’m a spy? That my feelings for you aren’t real?”
Dusk ran a hand over his bald skull. “I . . . I don’t know. You’re not like them.”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“Wanted? Meaning you don’t want to protect me anymore.”
This time, Shilpy grimaced. “Well, things have changed.”
“Since you met the Moirai?”
“No, since you tied me to a chair and let your friend hit me, dumb ass.”
Dusk scowled. He looked as if he was going to say something, probably make an excuse, but she wasn’t interested.
“How do you think this is going to end? With us together? You have to let me go sometime.”
Dusk sighed heavily. He looked away, considering her words, and then nodded. He went into the kitchen, and she heard him searching through drawers. “I just pray you’re not lying to me.”
Shilpy glanced back at the bedroom door. She could hear Hond’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. What was he up to? Was he on the phone with the Erisians?
“We need to run,” she said.
“Where?” Dusk scoffed. “They’ll hunt us down unless we stop them.”
“Something bad will happen to you if you don’t run.”
“Maybe,” Dusk said, pulling out a knife at last. He moved back around the kitchen counter and kneeled behind the chair to undo the zip ties. “Do you think I want this? People are counting on me. It’s better if we fight. It’s what I’m good at.” Shilpy’s left leg came free. Dusk went to work on her right.
“It’s not the only thing you’re good at. You are so much more than that. Let me show you, while . . .”
“While what?”
“While I still have time.”
Dusk freed her right leg then stood and circled around until he was in front of her. “What do you mean ‘while I still have time’?”
The glass in the door leading to their balcony shattered, spraying fragments into the room. Dusk spun. “Get down!” He leaped onto Shilpy’s chair and pulled it and her to the ground. A second explosion of glass followed. Shilpy could hear what sounded like a toy gun. It fired three more times—crack, crack, crack. With each sound, something above them smashed or shattered.
One thing was for sure: that was no kid’s toy.
Whoever was shooting had to be on the roof opposite their apartment. What was Angela doing? It wasn’t even night yet. Countless bullet holes appeared in the wall. A landscape picture Shilpy had bought at the market was shredded to pieces, and a small shelf came crashing down. The muffled gunshots could be the result of a silencer. Perhaps Angela had thought that would be enough to avoid alerting the neighbours.
“Hond, hurry!” Dusk shouted.
The barrage of bullets stopped, and Dusk rolled off her. The curtains billowed in the breeze, in the space where the balcony door used to be. The room descended into an uneasy silence.
Shilpy kicked and shimmied, but her arms were still tightly bound. Pulling at them several times, she succeeded only at tearing the skin. Every attempt to roll out of the chair was met with similar success.
The Gifts of Fate Page 12