Chapter 43 #2
Iliana leaned in. Now that she looked closer, she saw it.
None of the gods’ lines truly entwined with hers.
Two wrapped themselves loosely around her thread, and the others barely touched it.
She wondered if one of them was Panacea’s but decided against it.
They hadn’t known each other long enough.
Maybe one day, her line would meet Iliana’s, too.
Iliana followed the line, moving farther and landing on one more. This one was different, clinging to her line tighter than the rest; almost strangling it.
“What about that one?” she asked, carefully pulling out one hand to point to the thread that practically choked her own.
A silent look passed between the sisters before Lachesis spoke. “That has yet to happen and might not, depending on your choices. More than one hunter wants your death, but only one wants your fire.”
“Helpful,” Iliana said. “So, is that the hunter who wants my fire or the one who wants to kill me? And what does it mean they want my fire? Is that metaphorical, like my soul or spirit, or whatever?”
They didn’t answer. Of course they didn’t.
Atropos sighed. “There is a short prophecy, if you want to hear it.”
“A what now?”
Ignoring her question, Atropos recited:
“Dawn’s embrace is held by five,
If even one should fall, none survive.
The blackened tide will swallow all,
Unless her light withstands the fall.”
After waiting a beat to see if there was more, Iliana asked, “That’s it?”
Atropos gave her a scathing look. “What else did you expect for a human?”
“Maybe just clarity,” Iliana shot back, frustration outweighing any remaining caution. “Dawn’s embrace—is that me or is that someone else?” She bit her lip. “The five…are you talking about five gods? And this blackened tide—is that the curse? Or something worse?”
The Fates traded looks but said nothing.
“And my light,” Iliana pressed. “What light? I’m human. I don’t have any powers. How am I supposed to withstand this fall?”
Silence. They wouldn’t help her understand this. They just dropped the bomb and waited to see what remained after the carnage of their words.
“Dawn,” she said slowly, working through it aloud. “In Greek myth—in your pantheon,” she corrected quickly. “Dawn is Eos, but you’re not talking about her, are you? You’re talking about…a beginning? A new day?”
Clotho’s lips curved into the barest touch of a smile.
Was that a yes, or was she making fun of her?
“Or am I the dawn?” Iliana continued. “And five…five gods are connected to me. Thanatos, Anubis, Hypnos, Hermes…” She trailed off, looking at the fifth thread strangling her own. “Is there a god I haven’t met? Or am I all wrong about that fifth being the one in the prophecy? Am I one of the five?”
Silence. Again.
Iliana gritted her teeth. “‘If even one should fall, none survive.’ You’re saying our fates are bound. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? The five of us: If one dies, we all do.”
“Perhaps,” Lachesis said. “Or perhaps one’s fall triggers a cascade that ends in all your deaths. Or perhaps the loss of one removes the protection that keeps the blackened tide at bay.”
“That’s not helpful!”
“Prophecies rarely are,” Atropos shrugged. “It is about what could be, not what will be. Your choices matter, child. That is why we are warning you.”
If even one should fall, none survive.
The room closed in around Iliana, everything going fuzzy. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t—”
The Fates watched her with uncaring, ancient eyes, offering nothing.
Her protectors were risking everything for her—and they didn’t even know why. She hadn’t understood until this moment that her life could become a chain dragging four gods, maybe five, toward death alongside her.
She didn’t understand why the gods had stuck around in the first place, but they were spending time with her instead of doing their duties as gods.
And what if someone started a fight or attacked her?
They’d be risking their lives by throwing themselves into danger without hesitation.
How much worse would it be if they realized their survival relied on hers?
Would they stay with her because they wanted to, or because they had to?
If one of them died, would it be her fault?
Crushing guilt and fear ran through her. If she slipped up again, giving in to the curse, it wouldn’t be just her who died. She’d be taking them down with her. She couldn’t let that happen.
Thanatos might withdraw, Hermes would feel chained, and Anubis…gods, he’d fight even if he knew it was an unwinnable scenario. And Hypnos would resent her for bringing him into this entire ordeal, keeping him from the solitude he craved.
She stopped in front of her thread again, her eyes catching on that fifth line, the one wrapped too tightly around it. Was that the fifth? Or was Iliana? If so, did her death trigger theirs, or did their deaths trigger hers? She shook her head, reexamining the unbroken line.
Dawn’s embrace is held by five, if even one should fall, none survive.
If even one…
She was still the weak link. Her reasoning earlier was still valid.
Her head spun. It didn’t matter. Either way, the end was the same. If they felt forced to stay, wouldn’t that make her a curse on them? Just like the one they were trying to break? Their kindness served as a small light in her life, beating back the darkness of the curse threatening her.
She had to keep this from them. If they realized their fates were bound to hers, they’d stay whether they wanted to or not. But that wasn’t love; that was duty. And she wanted more than that. But Thanatos had said fate didn’t mean no choice. By hiding this, was she stealing theirs?
“Please, what should I do?”
Atropos shook her head. “We cannot tell you more.”
Frustration boiled over. “Then what was the point of this? You dragged me here to tell me something I don’t understand, then tell me I can’t do anything about it?”
“Careful,” Clotho warned. “We could end your lifeline here if you prefer. It would be a kinder fate than what could await you.”
Iliana froze. She took a long breath through her nose. “I’m sorry.” She waved at the strand encompassing her entire life. “It’s just…a lot.”
Clotho studied her for several moments, then nodded. “We have delivered the prophecy. If there is another question, ask it now.”
There was still so much Iliana wanted to know, but one question was more urgent than the rest. “Do you know how to break the curse?”
“You must burn,” Clotho said without pause.
Iliana waited. When no clarification came, she frowned. “That’s it? Burn? What does that even mean? Burn what?”
“We cannot say more.”
Of course, they couldn’t.
“Say hello to our brothers,” Clotho added. “Your slights will be forgiven for their sake. Your future holds great potential if you heed our warning.”
“Warning about what, specifically?” Iliana pressed. “The blackened tide: is that the curse? Or is there something else?”
“The curse is a symptom,” Atropos said, her aged voice unexpectedly gentle. “The tide is the disease. If the darkness has the chance to spread, it will not stop with your death.”
Iliana went cold. “You’re saying this curse could spread further, or are you talking about my bloodline? Am I contagious?”
“No, we’re saying,” Lachesis interjected, “that there are forces in motion larger than one mortal woman and her personal tragedy. Forces that will use you, your curse, and your connection to these gods for purposes you cannot yet imagine.”
“Then tell me!” Iliana’s voice cracked. “Tell me what to do!”
“We already have,” Clotho said simply. “Burn. The rest is up to you.”
Before Iliana could protest, the ground moved under her feet again, and she fell, landing hard and scraping her hands and knees on the hard rocks underneath her.
“Son of a motherfucking monkey’s uncle, what the hell was that?!”
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, hauling her upright. “Iliana,” Thanatos murmured, dragging her into his arms and crushing her against his hard chest before stepping back to look her over. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head, glancing behind him at Anubis and Hypnos. “No. I’m fine.”
“What did they say to you?” Hypnos asked, sounding uncaring despite his relieved expression. “Anything about how to break the curse?”
Iliana expelled her held breath, looking at them, at these gods who were risking so much for her. She could give them this.
“They said I have to burn.”