Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THANATOS
Unfamiliar power wrapped around me, and I fought to keep my feet.
Anastasia was on the deck of the boat, barely conscious.
I didn’t want to leave her like this. She pleaded for death, and I wanted to give it to her.
But I knew if I did, I would lose her forever.
Hades would see to it. The pull felt incredibly powerful, and when I looked down at my hands, they’d already started to disappear.
I knew I’d get in trouble for seeing Anastasia, but I didn’t think Hades would’ve worked this quickly.
It’d only been a few days since I’d been at Ophelia’s castle.
I’d broken his rule not even a week after he’d forbidden me from seeing her.
But I had zero regrets. My feet began to fade, and I fought to hold on for a moment longer.
But my fighting was futile. Golden magic surrounded me, and I spun from the scene in a whirling mess of power.
It was demanding and so much stronger than anything I’d ever felt before.
It was so much stronger than any power Hades had used on me in the past. Before I could figure out where I was and what was happening, I came to a stop.
Dizziness assailed me and I held my arms out to gain my balance.
“Spin it, weave it, cherish it. A past in shadows, a present in gold, a future in white. Shrouds be their fate, life be their threads.” The words were a whispered chant.
A chill went down my spine and I froze, looking around the great hall I stood in.
It was quiet, too quiet. The floor was made of a smooth white marble that matched the giant columns that stood in place of solid walls.
Toward the back of the hall was a single solid wall with a large archway.
The chanting came from that direction, and I hesitated to walk toward it even though I knew I was here for a reason.
When I looked out the hall beyond the columns, there was an endless blue sky dotted with large cottony clouds.
Golden light danced around the peeks of the clouds, mixing in with the pink and blue hues.
Threads of every color made up the ceiling of the hall and flowed toward an opening at the top of the wall.
They moved toward the chanting, and I swallowed knowing what I would find back there.
The fates had summoned me, and they would not be denied.
I squared my shoulders and walked toward the archway.
It was dark and lit only by torches that led the way deep into their home.
I entered into a smaller dark room with more of the threads flowing from the ceiling.
One of the fates sat next to a giant loom.
The threads all flowed into it. “Spin the thread, make it strong.”
Though she was immortal and years older than me, she looked younger.
If she was a human, she might look to be in her mid-twenties, with flowing honey hair and pale, sightless eyes.
They were covered in a thin film and she sat gazing off into the distance while her fingers worked the loom.
She was the fate destined to live and view the past, choosing to keep track of what was rather than what would be.
She ran her fingers over the threads flowing into the loom.
“Death extends the farthest back, living many lives unseen. Yet taking too much time I grow tired of the unending antiquity.”
“I apologize. I know not of what you speak.”
Another of the fates sat in the middle of the room.
A dark cloak covered her body and hid her face from view.
But her hands were a rich, dark brown and moved with sure strokes over the fabric that slowly flowed from the loom toward her.
She pulled a single thread from the fabric, letting it float between the three of them.
“Greed is your shroud, desire is your scythe, blood binds and grinds time,” the Fate of the Present answered, and I was just as confused as I ever was.
“Um . . . what?”
The thread that floated in front of the Fate of the Present turned from a brilliant gold to a dark brown.
It drifted to the next one, who sat there with a large pair of scissors hovering beside her.
Her dress was made of the darkest crimson and draped around her body in a traditional robe much like my own.
Her inky hair was pin-straight and flowed down past her hips.
She waved her hand and those scissors sliced through the thread, ending someone’s life as we spoke.
“A future without a plan is no future at all.”
Finally something I understood. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“You play with the past,” the fate in white stated.
“You command the present,” the one in the black cloak spoke in that hollow sounding voice.
“And your future is no longer your own. It is now ours to claim.” Another thread flowed between them and another thread was cut.
Their eerie words twisted my stomach into knots. I couldn’t lie, I thought I’d remained hidden from their vision. Now I realized how foolish that idea was. “I do not wish to forfeit my future.”
The Fate of the Past jerked to a stop, looking toward me with sightless eyes. “Perhaps you should’ve considered that before altering it.”
“The future is not yet written. Or so I’m told.” I knew they would punish me, but it was still unclear how.
The Fate of the Future chuckled. “A pebble cannot disrupt a wave.”
“No.” I paused trying to figure out what they were getting at. “It can’t.”
The Fate of the Present pointed an accusing finger in my direction. “And yet you’ve thrown many pebbles in an attempt to stop the inevitable. We are the inevitable, God of Death. We grow tired of your interruptions.”
I squared my shoulders to face them. “I cannot apologize for love. But I regret it has interrupted your existence.”
The three of them cackled all at once. Future held a dark-red thread, winding it between her fingers. “The wave comes for you, Thanatos. There is no stopping it now.”
“We were gentle before,” Past added.
“But no more.” Present shook her head and the hood slowly moved back and forth.
“You wish for an altered future.” Future clipped the thread she held. “I will give it to you.”
A chill covered my body, and I took a small step back and sucked in a breath. “What does that mean?”
She flicked her wrist and another crimson thread flowed between her fingers, but this time she forced it to coil around me. “A god can be no more.”
“A god can wish for more.” Present clicked her own wrist and more threads flowed from the tapestry they wove together.
“A god will want forever more.” Future chuckled.
They spoke in unison. “A thirst that cannot be quenched, a hunger never sated, a desire never met. Lessons to be learned. A life to be lived and died.”
Their power wrapped around me, and I unleashed my own.
Black and blue sparks covered me from head to toe, but their magic smothered it out.
A million threads wrapped around me, binding and trapping my arms at my sides and snapping my legs together.
They lifted their hands and my body turned sideways, floating before them.
“An immortal life bound to a single one,” Past whispered.
“Lived and died in the blink of an eye,” Present’s voice echoed.
“Time stands still no more.” Future cackled.
Pain shot through my body. It felt as if I was being drained from the inside out.
My power overcame the pull of the Underworld lost. It was unspeakable to kill a god, and yet that is what it felt like.
I was dying. My power slipped away and my own heartbeat filled my ears.
The threads went from magically binding me to feeling like rope chaffing against my skin.
The air was too cold. The tightness in my chest sucked the breath from my lungs.
My own blood trickled from me, turning from gold to crimson. It was all so . . . human.
Agony like I’d never known filled my body.
I was being ripped apart. I knew they’d punish me, but I didn’t know they’d kill me.
Black dots swarmed my vision, and my body went limp within those ropes.
My one last thought was of Anastasia and how I would never get to see her again.
I never wanted her to mourn me the way I’d mourned her again and again. But it appeared it was my time to die.
I’m so sorry, love . . .