One #3

A loud yelp startled us both, causing me to jerk up and Raithe to put his hand to his sword. Halek was stumbling back from

the clump of bushes, eyes wide and fixed on something in the shadows.

We rushed over as the Fatechaser finished buckling his belt and turned. His expression was caught between a grimace and a

maniac grin. “Oh, that was close,” he breathed. “That would not have been a pleasant way to go.”

I looked over at the bushes and saw a ripple of movement beneath the branches, as something long and slender slithered back

into the darkness.

“That was a dust adder,” Raithe said grimly, causing my stomach to turn. Dust adders were small, sand-colored serpents with

one of the most potent venoms in the world. Way out here, miles from any city or antitoxin, a bite would be fatal.

“It didn’t bite you, did it?” I asked Halek, who gave me a sheepish grin.

“No, though it did try. Can’t say I blame it—if someone poured a stream of piss on my head while I was sleeping, I wouldn’t be happy, either.

” The grin turned into a pained grimace.

“Thankfully, it missed what it was striking at, which was very fortunate for me. Dying from certain parts swelling and falling off would be a very inglorious way to meet my fate.”

I looked at Raithe and saw that even he was wincing.

“You were careless.” A sharp voice broke the silence. Kysa strode up with her spear in hand, apparently having caught the

end of the conversation. “Everyone knows you must always watch where you put your feet—or any body part, for that matter—in

the Barren Steppes.” She gave Halek a look of tired exasperation. “Attempt to use more caution, Fatechaser. None of us will

be pleased if you die of your own idiocy.”

“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t be pleased, either. Not with that fate.” Halek glanced at the clump of bushes and shuddered. “Though

I will admit, that story would have been tragically hilarious. Times like this, I think Maederyss has a very twisted sense

of humor, especially when it comes to Fatechasers.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could just ask her what

my fate will ultimately be, you know? Get it over with.”

A ripple of horror shivered through me, as Kysa blinked at him. “You would want to know the moment of your death?” she asked

incredulously. “You know you cannot change your story in the Weave. Every teaching says that those who try to avoid their

fate just put themselves on the path to meeting it.”

“Hey, I’d be okay with that.” Halek laced his fingers behind his head and shrugged.

“At least I could prepare myself. And if my fate was ‘you are going to be bitten by a poisonous snake in the middle of the desert and die after your man parts shrivel up like a slug on a skillet,’ then at least I would know. I wouldn’t be happy, but I would know. ”

Kysa shook her head and turned away. “I am going back to sleep,” she announced, striding toward the campfire. “Wake me at

suns rise, if I am not already up.”

Halek scratched the back of his neck and gave us another sheepish grin. “I think our good rider has finally grown tired of

me,” he said in a resigned, cheerful voice. “Ah, well. I suppose it’s my turn for watch. Probably for the best—I wasn’t going

to be able to sleep after that little encounter, anyway.”

“Are you all right, Halek?” I asked worriedly. He grinned.

“Oh, of course. You two get some sleep, and don’t worry about me.” He waved a hand at the bushes. “If I see any more dust

adders, you’ll definitely hear me scream.”

Raithe and I returned to camp and my pile of discarded blankets near the firepit. A sudden cold breeze hissed across the steppes,

making me shiver and fold my arms to my chest. “Sleep,” I repeated, gazing at the smoldering embers of the fire. “I used to

know her. She doesn’t like me much anymore.”

“Let’s see if I can’t convince her otherwise,” Raithe murmured.

He took his blanket from where it was lying on the ground and draped it around my shoulders. Surprised, I followed as he led

me to the dying fire and sank down in front of it, drawing me with him.

“Raithe . . .” My heart pounded he settled close and curled his body around mine, shielding me from the wind.

“You haven’t slept since we left the Scarab camp.” His voice was a low murmur in my ear. “You’re exhausted. I can at least provide some measure of security before we reach Irrikah.”

My eyelids were heavy. Between the blanket, the fire, and the assassin at my back, I was cocooned in warmth. I could see Halek’s

distant figure, pacing across the sand with his shoulders hunched against the cold. Had he had dodged Fate yet again, or was

he always meant to avoid death tonight?

“Raithe?” I murmured after a few moments.

“Yes?”

“Would you ever want to know . . . how you’re going to die? What your ultimate fate will be?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “There is a reason no one knows their fate. That kind of knowledge will easily drive you

mad. Maybe someone like Halek would be fine, but for most of us, it would become an obsession.” He shivered, arms tightening

around me. “I don’t want to know my fate,” he murmured. “I just know that the time I have now is a blessing from the Weaver.

It’s what I do with the time before my thread is cut that matters.”

I nodded, though my thoughts felt tangled. The Fateless had no fate, no destiny. What did it mean, if I had no thread in the

Weave? If the goddess who wove the Tapestry of the World didn’t even know I existed?

“Whatever you’re thinking, try not to worry about it tonight.” Raithe’s voice brushed against my ear, low and soft. One hand

slipped below the quilt, long fingers gently squeezing my arm. “Sleep, Sparrow,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Leaning against Raithe, I let myself relax, and finally let sleep take me.

After another hour of practice in the faint light of the dawn, I finally got the hang of flying.

“Good!” Kysa called, swooping past me with Rhyne. “Yes, that is how to make him hover. Now order him to descend.”

“Down, Ratuk,” I called, making sure to use the firm voice Kysa insisted on. The rock beetle immediately sank straight back

toward the hard-packed earth.

“Ascend!” Kysa ordered.

I grabbed the saddle horn and leaned back, careful not to simply throw myself backward and cause the beetle to zip into the

sky. Ratuk instantly changed directions, flying upward with the hum of translucent wings. I leaned slightly to the left, and

he turned, flying around to face Kysa, who gave me a nod of approval.

“I think you have it,” she said. “Or at least, I am no longer afraid Ratuk will fly off with you and not come back. That happens,

sometimes, with rock beetles who don’t respect their rider. Or they try to shake them off in midair.” She gave a tight smile

that showed she was not joking in the slightest. “But you seem to have learned at least the basics of flying, so order him

to land.”

I did, and the rock beetle easily drifted down until all six legs touched the cracked earth of the Barren Steppes. I slid

out of the saddle as Ratuk folded his wings beneath his carapace, translucent green membranes vanishing under the rock-hard

shell.

“Good boy,” I whispered, giving that carapace a pat. Ratuk snorted and raised his head, more interested in a dead branch poking

out of a boulder than me.

I turned, meeting Raithe’s eyes as he and Halek joined us. The iylvahn gave me a nod and a small smile. “Well done,” he said quietly, as my insides warmed with approval. “I’m glad our shared curse with giant insects doesn’t extend to rock beetles.”

A chuckle escaped me. Twice in our journeys together, we had been attacked by large, aggressive insects, and we’d ended up

saving each other from certain death on both occasions. One had been the frenzied swarm of bloodthirsty fire-jaw ants; the

other had been an enormous spider-scorpion abomination sent by minions of the Deathless King to kill us all. Both cases had

been terrifying; I was glad Rhyne and Ratuk were gentle giants. Or at least, more interested in chewing on rocks and trees

than our bones.

Halek grinned and cast a glance at Solasti, the first sun climbing slowly into the cloudless sky. “Well, now that we have

two beetles to ride, do you think we can reach the Maze before Demon Hour?”

Kysa raised a brow at him. Demon Hour was that point in time when both suns shone directly overhead, turning everything beneath

them into a shimmering landscape of heat and misery. No one wanted to be caught outside during Demon Hour, as the heat could

blister your skin and cook the very air in your lungs. Out on the Barren Steppes, it was even worse; there was little shade

and very few crags and crannies to hide in. Traveling at night was impractical as, depending on the season, true dark lasted

only four to five hours. The twins were jealous rulers of the sky, loathe to leave it for long. So if you couldn’t find shelter

during Demon Hour, the result would be a very slow, agonizing death beneath the relentless glare of the tyrant suns.

Fortunately, Kysa had a tent, and the two rock beetles seemed the only creatures alive who could withstand the heat. Still, even under shelter, I didn’t want to have to go through Demon Hour out on the steppes if we could avoid it.

Raithe gazed toward the horizon, where the hazy line of cliffs could barely be seen in the glare of the sun. “I expect we’ll

reach the edge of the Maze before Demon Hour,” he said. “Unfortunately, from there, we’ll have to walk, but at least we’ll

be sheltered from the twins inside the Maze.”

“Walk?” Halek blinked. “We have giant flying bugs. Why not just fly into Irrikah? I know we can’t fly long distances, but

it won’t be that much farther, will it?”

“You can’t,” Raithe said calmly. “Irrikah lies at the center of the labyrinth, and it’s protected by the magic of the queen.

Even if you fly over the Maze, you won’t see the city. The only way into Irrikah is through the Maze, and only if you have

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