Six #3
“You see, Fateless, for the iylvahn, love is different. The word in our language is sylannanorei, and it means ‘when two threads become one.’ Unlike the troblin, who have many mates in their lifetimes, and humans, who
can flit from one night of passion to the next, once an iylvahn chooses their partner, they bond for life. Their threads entwine
so closely, they become almost a single strand. That is not to say they are one creature—when one partner’s thread is cut,
the other lives on. However, many iylvahn find this is so painful, they decide they would rather have a chance to meet them
in the next life than continue with the present one. The saying ‘meet you beyond the desert’ comes from an iylvahn walking
into the wilderness alone to join their deceased life mate, with no intention of coming out again.
“So, choosing a mate is a very serious thing for my people,” the Deathless queen went on, as I listened in numb amazement. “The bonds of Fate are
fragile. The kahjai are bringers of death, and they must never forget that. If, one day, they are called upon to sever the
thread of someone they know, someone they care for, they still must carry out their duty without question. So you can see
why their order forbids them to become attached.
“I understand that you relied on each other to reach Irrikah safely,” the queen continued, as my heart twisted ever more painfully inside my chest. “I know that this particular kahjai is strong, and brave, and utterly dedicated to his duty.” The queen raised a hand toward me, her expression both sympathetic and cautionary.
“However, do not mistake duty for compassion. He knows love is forbidden among his order. He knows the mission must come before everything else. Rely on him to keep you safe, for he will do everything in his power to protect you. But do not trust any kahjai with your heart.”
It felt like a dagger had been driven into my chest, piercing the fragile organ within. My throat squeezed tight, and I swallowed
hard to open it. Here, then, was the undeniable truth. Raithe knew his order forbade attachments.
Drawing in a furtive breath to be sure my voice didn’t tremble when I answered, I faced the queen and nodded. “I understand,”
I told her. “And don’t worry—I don’t think either of us is going down that path.”
“Good,” said the queen. “Because there is one more thing you need to know.
“I saw his future,” the queen continued, and my stomach squeezed itself into a tight little ball. “Just a glimpse, but it
was enough to know his fate. The kahjai known as Raithe is going to die, Fateless. I do not know where, or how, but I do know
that it will be soon.”
I suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Then, he . . . he shouldn’t come with us,” I whispered.
The words felt ripped out of me. The thought of never seeing Raithe again tore something inside and left me feeling hollow.
But if he died trying to protect me . . .
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. There had already been too many close calls, too many instances where the kahjai had been willing to trade his life for mine.
If separating myself from Raithe meant saving his life, that was a price I would gladly pay.
“He should stay here,” I declared. “In Irrikah. He’ll be safe, then. If he comes with us, he’s sure to be killed.”
The queen regarded me calmly. “Perhaps,” she said, nodding. “But think on your decision carefully, Fateless. No soul can escape
their destiny. As I said before, I do not know the circumstances of his death. I know only that it will be soon. Whether it
is to happen in Irrikah or while he is with you, who can say?
“However,” the queen went on, her dark gaze suddenly piercing, “you are the Fateless. Able to unravel the threads of Fate
just by existing. If you leave the kahjai here, perhaps he will be safe, or perhaps his destiny will come for him. But, if
he is with you . . .”
She made a vague gesture with one elegant hand, and I felt like I was drowning. Everywhere I looked, I saw nothing but impossible
choices. Leave Raithe behind, not knowing if trying to save his life would trigger the very thing I was trying to stop. Or
bring him with us on this near suicidal mission, hoping that I might be able to unravel his fate.
“Of course, this will all be for naught if you cannot get the loom,” the queen finished. “If the prophecy comes true, if the
goddess of Fate is slain, your kahjai will die. Of that I am certain. The Deathless King is a tyrant and a conqueror and has already tried to wipe out my people once.
If he becomes the new god of Fate, he will certainly finish the job.”
I nodded numbly, and the queen settled back on her throne, looking satisfied.
“It was good to finally meet you, Fateless,” she said, as if everything we had spoken about was routine.
A normal conversation. “I know this task might seem overwhelming, but I have faith in your abilities. I would say Fate be with you, but in this situation, I am hoping the opposite is true.” Her lips curved in the faintest of smiles, as if she found that notion amusing.
“And so, I will say nothing, beyond I trust we will see each other again once the Deathless King has been destroyed for good.”
Kysa and Halek were waiting for me outside the throne room. I could hear Halek’s footsteps as he paced the area, going from
one wall to the next, unable to stand still. Stepping through the doorway, I saw Kysa leaning against a column with her arms
crossed, watching Halek with subtle exasperation as he prowled back and forth.
Raithe was nowhere to be seen.
“Sparrow.” Halek turned and immediately jogged up, casting an anxious look back at the throne room. “Are you all right?” he
asked, studying my face with concern. “The queen didn’t tell you anything horrible, did she?”
I grimaced. “You mean other than sending us to the World Scar to find a piece of Maederyss’s loom so we can challenge and
somehow defeat the Deathless King before he destroys all the other kingdoms and kills the goddess of Fate?”
Also, Raithe is fated to die soon. And I don’t know if I can stop it. Or if I should even try.
“Well, yes, other than that.”
Kysa pushed herself off the column and walked toward us, her boots clicking softly on the marble tiles.
“Ratuk needs looking after,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
I blinked at her in bewilderment. She met my gaze steadily.
“Go care for your mount, rider,” she said, staring at me with intent, as if trying to convey a message without saying it.
“These iylvahn stables are not well suited for rock beetles,” she went on, flicking her gaze at one of the guards, standing at the end of the hall.
“Ratuk needs to hear your voice—he is in a small, unfamiliar space, and there are no iylvahn around to soothe him.”
I suddenly got what she was implying. Seventeen years in the Thieves Guild had taught me to hear the underlying message in
an otherwise a normal conversation. It was how we could plan a heist in the middle of a crowded marketplace or discuss the
rotation of the guards where anyone could hear it. Kysa was telling me that the stables were empty of iylvahn, and we could
talk about what the queen had said without fear of being overheard.
“Right,” I said. “I’ll go take care of him now.”
The iylvahn stables were actually very nice, shaded by trees whose branches formed an interlocking dome over the stalls, protecting
them from the suns. The stone walls were much taller than those of regular stables. I peeked into the individual stalls and
saw huge lizards clinging to the walls like spiders. Their bulbous eyes blinked at me, membranes sliding up from the bottom
lid, but other than that, they didn’t move.
Rhyne and Ratuk had adjacent stalls, and the rock beetles did look mildly uncomfortable, squashed into a space that was obviously too small.
The doorway of Rhyne’s stall had large chunks taken out of the wood, as if the rock beetle had already started chewing it.
Ratuk huddled in the center of his space, not moving.
I slid into the stall and walked up to him, putting a hand on his slicing horn.
“Hey, Ratuk,” I said quietly, and the rock beetle’s head lifted, his beady black eyes fixing on me. “I know this probably
isn’t comfortable, but we’ll be leaving soon. Just try to endure a little longer, okay?”
Ratuk made a soft chittering noise and settled deeper into the straw. I looked at his carapace, at the shell that hid the
severed wing, and wondered how we were going to travel long distances if my rock beetle couldn’t fly.
“I don’t trust the queen,” Kysa said. Her voice was soft, hushed, but matter-of-fact. “I don’t believe her intentions are
altruistic. She is Deathless. She has lived for thousands of years. In her own words, she desired immortal life, so much so
that she and the other Deathless broke the Loom of Maederyss to tear themselves from the Weave. The only reason we are here
is because she wants to use the Fateless to achieve something she cannot. What that something is, I am not certain yet, but
I don’t think the queen is telling us everything.”