Six #2
“When we smashed the Loom of Maederyss,” the queen went on, “and cast a piece of it to earth, we severed our threads from the rest of the Weave. Where that sliver of the loom fell, the land it around it was forever changed. That broken piece still contains part of our souls. We didn’t dare touch it—doing so could draw our threads back into the Weave.
So we constructed a temple around the fragment, to protect both the loom and ourselves.
We filled the temple with curses and traps and magical guardians, and as the centuries passed, most of us forgot it was there. ”
The Deathless queen paused.
“That broken piece still resides within the temple,” she murmured, “untouched and undisturbed. Mortals cannot see it—it is
of the goddess, and those with their threads still bound in the Weave cannot perceive it at all. But the Fateless has no thread
in the Weave. And a tiny portion of Maederyss’s power still clings to that fragment. If you can make it to the center of the
temple, Fateless, you can touch the loom and claim the power of the goddess for yourself.”
A chill ran all the way down my body. I thought back to that very first mission in Kovass, before I’d known anything about
a Fateless or Deathless Kings or murderous ma’jhet, when I was a thief tasked with stealing part of the Tapestry of the World
from the Temple of Fate. Even though that tapestry had been a human-made replica, the mere thought of touching it had seemed
blasphemous.
This was a thousand times worse.
“Claim the goddess’s power?” This was from Kysa, who sounded nearly as appalled as I felt. “What will that do to Sparrow?”
“I do not know, exactly,” the queen replied.
“As I said, we Deathless did not dare touch the loom.
Perhaps she will go mad. Perhaps she will gain some power over the Weave itself.
But I do not believe it will do nothing.
Maederyss is the only being the Deathless fear.
We fashioned ourselves as living gods, creating people and races in our own images, insisting they worship only us.
Because we hoped that people would forget the goddess of Fate and, if she was not remembered, she would fade into obscurity.
Our hubris broke the world, and Maederyss herself withdrew from mankind, becoming a distant, unreachable shadow.
But people still remembered the goddess.
Even under the threat of death, she would not be forgotten.
Her temples vanished for a time, and the Priestesses of the Path disappeared, never to rise again, but her name was still whispered by many hoping for a different fate.
“To this day, Maederyss remains the only one who can rival the Deathless King’s power,” the queen finished, staring hard at
me. “What touching the loom will do to a mortal body is uncertain. But if you are to face the Deathless King, little Sparrow,
you will need the power of a goddess to defeat him.”
For a few heartbeats, there was silence. The power of a goddess. To defeat the Deathless King, I had to find the temple that the Deathless themselves had constructed, reach a piece of the
Loom of Maederyss that they had broken from the whole, and acquire the power of the goddess of Fate herself.
I felt numb. Like none of this was real.
How had I gone from swiping trinkets and baubles from rich nobles to stealing the magic of the goddess of Fate?
If I hadn’t been in front of the Deathless queen, I might’ve fled the room, found a remote ledge or rooftop that was close to the sky, and let both my stomach and my thoughts settle down.
“It is a lot to take in, I am sure,” the Deathless queen said, as if she were conducting a complex business deal, not casually
informing me that I needed to steal the power from the literal goddess of Fate. “And I know the road will be dangerous. I
would send a contingent of my finest warriors with you, but I know that adding more lives into the presence of the Fateless
can have unexpected consequences. The more threads you touch, the more fates you could unravel, and in a game as razor-thin
as this, even the smallest change could be disastrous. Your current companions, whose destinies you might have already shifted,
will be your best allies and protectors.”
She glanced at Halek as she said this, and he shifted uneasily at my side. Halek already thought he’d cheated death twice
by being in my presence, and for a Fatechaser who spent his life searching for his destiny, that was nearly as blasphemous
as stealing the Tapestry of the World.
Kysa continued to stare at the queen, silent and impassive. But I wondered if I had drastically changed her fate, as well.
Where would the insect rider be now, if she’d never met us on the strider that day? If she’d never agreed to help? Back home
with her clan, where she was supposed to be?
“The fewer people the Fateless can affect, the better,” the queen went on, ignoring the flat gaze of the insect rider.
“But I will not bid you search for the Loom of Maederyss with no aid at all. I will send one soul with you, one you have already touched. He is one of my best, and I know you can trust him. He will do whatever is required to see you to the end of your journey.”
Before she had finished speaking, I knew who she was talking about. Raithe didn’t move, even as the queen turned to him. His
gaze remained as blank as ever as it met mine, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.
“Where are we to find this loom piece?” Kysa asked. “I assume, as this temple has never been mentioned in the histories of
any kingdom, that it is very well hidden.”
“It is, warrior of the Scarab Clan,” the queen replied, turning back to us. “Where the loom fell, we Deathless turned the
land around it into the most inhospitable place that we could. A place where nothing could survive. From deep beneath the
earth, we pulled up pools of magma and spread it across the landscape, turning the surface into a living hell.”
“The World Scar,” Halek murmured, causing me to stare at him. He grimaced. “It’s a stretch of land on the other side of the
Shifting Dunes, and one of the few places I have not explored. There are countless stories surrounding it, none of them good.”
He scratched the back of his head with a grimace. “Nothing lives out there—I guess it’s kind of hard to live on a surface
of molten fire and lava. Even the air is said to be poisonous to breathe.”
“As I said . . .” The Deathless queen nodded. “We made the surrounding area as dangerous and inhospitable as we could. And
we set the temple in the center of the molten pools, beyond the reach of mortal men, and commanded it to fade from history.”
“And we’re supposed to find it,” Kysa said. “Somehow.”
“If you wish to stop the Deathless King and save your world, yes.”
I sucked in a ragged breath. Another impossible mission. Another quest where we were likely all going to die. But I had been
through them before, and I was still here. “So, when do we leave?” I asked, and my voice sounded unfamiliar in my own head.
“I’m guessing we don’t have a lot of time.”
“I will have my kahjai ready to escort you from the city tomorrow,” the queen told us. “Until then, please relax, breathe,
enjoy this time of calm in Irrikah. I fear we won’t have much of it left.” She raised a hand, indicating the door through
which we’d come in. “Chancellor Llorek will show you back to your rooms.
“Fateless,” she added as the chancellor appeared, as if by magic, behind us. “If you would, I must speak with you alone.”
Halek and Kysa left the throne room, the latter giving me a look of wary reluctance before slipping through the arched doors,
which closed behind her without a sound.
When I turned to face the dais again, Raithe was no longer there. Only the queen remained, sitting on her throne with her
long legs crossed, regarding me with eyes like the Void. One elegant hand rose, graceful fingers beckoning to me. I swallowed
my nervousness and stepped forward.
“I heard you and my kahjai became rather close during your journey here,” the queen said.
My heart pounded. I wondered if I had gotten him in trouble, if the queen had seen fit to punish the kahjai, after all. “Raithe saved my life several times,” I told her. “He protected me from abominations and assassins and ma’jhet blood magic. I’m grateful for what he did.”
“Very careful answers,” the queen said, making my stomach squirm. “But you needn’t lie to protect him, Fateless. My people
and I are connected in ways that are incomprehensible to outsiders. I saw the truth in his eyes when I asked him the same.
He cares for you, which is why I have agreed to send him along. Because he will stop at nothing to protect you, even at the
cost of his own existence. He understands how important it is that the Fateless survive.”
My throat tightened. I remembered when Vahn, using blood magic, had possessed me and taken control of my body. He had threatened
to kill me, to slit my throat in front of my friends, unless Raithe took his own life. He had even tossed him my dagger to
finish the impossible request. And . . . there had been no hesitation in the eyes of the iylvahn. Remembering still made my
stomach turn. If I hadn’t managed to regain control of myself and fight back, Raithe would have driven that dagger into his
own heart to keep me safe.
Raithe would have done anything to bring me here, safe and alive. But was that single-minded devotion to me or to his queen?
Either way, the answer terrified me.
“However,” the queen went on, gazing at me intently.
“I did want to extend this warning, Fateless. The order that the kahjai belong to has a code—a set of rules that they all adhere to. They are, after all, a guild of assassins, and their life’s work is a necessary but grim occupation.
As such, the kahjai are forbidden to form romantic attachments of any kind.
They are forbidden to marry or seek a life mate.