Deathless (Fateless Trilogy #2)

One

Flying a rock beetle was harder than it looked.

“Lean your weight forward!” Kysa instructed me from the back of her own rock beetle, Rhyne. She had to shout to be heard over

the hum of beetle wings moving so quickly they were nothing but a blur. “You’re leaning too far back in the saddle, which

is telling him to fly up. Hunch your shoulders and put your weight over the saddle horn to make him descend.”

Gritting my teeth, trying not to look down, I grabbed the saddle horn and leaned forward. Which was difficult, as Ratuk, my

rock beetle, was ascending rather swiftly. I managed to throw my weight over the saddle horn, and the rock beetle immediately

changed direction, flying toward the ground at an alarming speed.

“Pull up!” Kysa instructed, flying after us. “Sit up straight to make him hover. Remember, he’s responding to your weight

shifts in the saddle. The faster you move, the more aggressively he’ll react.”

The cracked, barren ground was coming at us at rapidly. Stomach churning, I pushed myself off the saddle horn, trying desperately

to find that equilibrium Kysa spoke of. Ratuk finally slowed, then came to a stop in midair, wings buzzing as he hovered about

fifteen feet over the ground.

My heart was racing. I sat perfectly still, afraid to move and send Ratuk flying into the air again. Kysa descended with Rhyne and hovered in front of me. The insect rider’s expression was subtly amused, as if she couldn’t understand how I was finding this so difficult.

It was easy for her, I thought. Kysa was a warrior of the Scarab Clan, the insect-riding nomads who wandered the Barren Steppes.

She had grown up with the massive, armored rock beetles and knew everything about them. In her chitinous black armor that

blended in with her mount, she even looked like she could be part beetle. I was a skinny street thief from the city of Kovass,

which was not known for its population of giant insects. Flying a rock beetle was a new experience for me.

“You’re shifting your weight a little fast,” the insect rider said, smiling from the back of her mount. Even for a rock beetle,

Rhyne was enormous, with a shiny black carapace and a horn that was over four feet long. “Rock beetles feel even the slightest

changes in their rider’s position. You don’t have to move much to tell them what to do.” She observed me sitting rigidly in

the saddle and nodded. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“No,” I panted. “I can do this.”

Kysa shook her head. “Your mount is considerably riled up,” she said, watching the hovering rock beetle with concern. “His

fighting spirit has awoken, and he is ready for battle. It is not advisable to continue now—let him calm down before we try

again.”

I slumped, then nodded. “All right,” I conceded. “Tomorrow, then. Um . . .” I peered over the beetle’s side at the ground.

“How do I get him to land, again?”

“Down, Ratuk,” Kysa said firmly, and the rock beetle drifted down until his six legs touched the earth. I slid from the saddle and let out an involuntary sigh of relief as my boots hit the hard-packed clay. Glancing at my mount, I gave his carapace a pat.

“Sorry, Ratuk,” I murmured, as the beetle’s shiny black gaze flicked back toward me. “I’ll try to be more coordinated next

time.”

The rock beetle twitched an antenna and turned away to chew on a dead bush. I sighed, shielding my eyes as I glanced up at

the sun. Namaia, the second of the twins, hung low in the sky, indicating evening was about to fall. Out here on the Barren

Steppes, a cracked, endless stretch of desolate earth and rock, the air still shimmered with heat, but the temperatures were

marginally cooler now that night was approaching.

Kysa landed Rhyne next to me with barely a thump. “We should look for a suitable camp,” she said, sliding gracefully to the

ground. “There is a copse of thorn trees not far from here that would make a good stopping point. These flying lessons are

taking longer than I anticipated.”

I winced. “Hopefully I’ll do better tomorrow.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Kysa told me. “The blame lies with me—I forget outsiders have no experience with rock beetles. They

are used to steering their four-footed mounts with reins and bits. The rock beetles are much more sensitive and respond to

far less guidance.”

“Well, it was certainly interesting to watch,” said a new voice, as a bright-haired figure stepped around Ratuk and grinned at me.

He wore a sleeveless dark brown jacket, fingerless gloves, and several belts around his waist and shoulders.

The evening sun caught in his hair and made it glow amber.

“But slightly terrifying for those of us still on the ground,” Halek the Fatechaser continued, deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I don’t know if you were testing out a rock beetle’s diving speed, but you nearly made our good assassin’s heart stop. ”

A sigh followed Halek’s statement, and my heart beat faster as Raithe appeared, gliding around the rock beetle like a shadow.

Like me, he wore light, loose clothing and a hood to combat the intense rays of the twin suns. But the face within the hood,

with his charcoal-gray skin, silver hair, and curved, pointed ears, was not human. He was iylvahn, one of the mysterious,

long-lived people who resided in a city no outsider had seen. Or, according to Raithe, a city no one could remember. He was

also a kahjai, a deadly assassin, who, not long ago, had tried to kill me. His eyes, pale blue and glowing softly within his

hood, met mine, and my stomach fluttered.

“Are you all right?” he asked, ignoring Halek, who quickly stepped aside, still grinning.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I think Ratuk is more frazzled than I am. I’m sorry, Raithe—I know you wanted to get to Irrikah quickly.”

Though the thought of what awaited us in the iylvahn city still made my insides curl.

On the day that Kovass fell to the Deathless King, Raithe had insisted that I return to Irrikah with him, to see the queen of the iylvahn.

Because on that day, I learned that I was something called Fateless.

One who not only stepped outside the bounds of Fate set by the Weaver, but who could also unravel the fates and destinies of everyone they touched.

One who ignored prophecy and—according to my adoptive father, Vahn—was an agent of chaos that could topple kingdoms, shift the future and, sometimes, change the course of the world.

It was a lot to accept, and even now, I wasn’t sure what it all meant or what anyone expected me to do. Raithe had told me

that the queen needed to speak to the Fateless, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Even now, whenever I asked about the mysterious

iylvahn queen, he was evasive in his answers, saying that she would explain everything when we got to Irrikah.

I trusted Raithe, but I couldn’t shake a feeling of quiet dread whenever I thought of meeting the queen. The queen was also

a seer. What would she tell me? That I was supposed to defeat the immortal, supremely powerful Deathless King? Or would she

take one look at me and announce that I wasn’t Fateless at all?

Honestly, I didn’t know which would be worse.

Raithe shook his head. “Learning a new skill isn’t done in a day,” he said. “And, given the nature of rock beetles, I would

prefer you learn how to fly one slowly, rather than have to try to catch you if something goes wrong. Besides, given what

Kysa has said, I don’t think we can fly them all the way to Irrikah.”

“Correct.” Kysa nodded. “It takes an enormous amount of energy for rock beetles to lift themselves off the ground,” she explained, “and even more for them to remain in the air, especially if they’re carrying passengers or cargo.

Think of your common horses—you cannot expect to ride a horse at a full gallop across the desert for long.

The same is true for rock beetles. They can fly for a short amount of time, but they’re not built for sustained flights and will quickly exhaust themselves.

It is more practical to intersperse short flights with walking them overland, and reserve most of their flying for battle and defense. ”

I remembered when we’d been attacked by swarming fire-jaw ants and all four of us had climbed onto Rhyne to escape the horde.

The rock beetle had managed to lift himself off the ground and away from the swarm, but he couldn’t ascend very far with all

four of us clinging to his back. Still, the fact that he’d gotten off the ground at all was testament to the rock beetle’s

strength, and I told Kysa so.

“Yes,” Kysa said. A faint smile crossed her face as she glanced at her mount. “Rhyne is the strongest rock beetle I have ever

known.” The pride in her voice was evident. “If it had been any other than him that day, I’m not sure we would have survived.”

She gave me a firm look. “Now it is your turn to prove to Ratuk that you are worthy to be a rider.”

I suppressed a wince. Now, on top of meeting the queen, learning what it meant to be Fateless, and perhaps stopping a literal

god from destroying the kingdoms, I was supposed to prove my worth to a giant insect?

Sometimes I wished I could just be that simple thief again.

“Sparrow.”

Vahn stood before me in the robes of the ma’jhet, a bloody dagger clutched loosely in one hand.

Bodies lay strewn around him, corpses of people I’d once known.

Jeran, of course, lay at his feet, throat cut open, glassy eyes staring at me accusingly.

The first life I had watched Vahn destroy.

A thief named Dahveen sprawled a few feet away, the hilt of a sword jutting from his back.

A large man called Bassig lay with his chest sliced open, scarred arms flung akimbo, beady eyes wide with shock.

And the body of a woman, her dark hair wet with blood, slumped against the side of a building with her head bowed.

I remembered Rala’s gentle smile whenever I came into her bar, the stories she used to tell me, and my heart felt as heavy as a mountain.