Of Blood and Bonds (The Children of Fate #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Fate

Meru’s agitation was palpable today.

Magic roiled and writhed, stretching to impossible lengths in a bid to free its confines.

Tendrils snaked down to the surface, only to be pulled back into place with a resounding snap that echoed through the empty landscape.

The ground, just as cracked and barren as ever, heaved and buckled as if the physical manifestation of our godly home was rebelling against its own slow death.

It was apparent that not even my cosmic immortality could sustain Meru much longer.

Eventually, it would die, taking me, my children, and magic with it.

There were other temporary fixes, certainly, but nothing substantial. Anything but repairing Meru completely would be like trying to bind an eviscerated stomach with a small piece of gauze—ineffective and stupid.

My head pounded to the cadence of a drum, nausea constant as Meru greedily bled my life force dry. The remainder of my immortality pumped sluggishly through my veins, thumping slower as the days dragged on without end or respite. I sagged lower in my seat, barely able to keep upright.

The sight would almost be comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

I need a solution.

Meru’s slow decline started centuries ago when Solace and Kaos stole magic from their siblings, binding it to their immortal souls rather than letting it return to the ether.

Selfish, arrogant, megalomaniacs.

Meru keenly felt the loss of the Original Magics, immediately seeking to balance the scales once more.

The ability to use and store magic separated, with humans no longer able to wield both and forced to rely on another being.

When my children, in their foolish arrogance, ignored the first sign, Meru’s insistence only increased—Vessels became scarce, Forced Bonds felt unnatural, and Mage Sickness plagued Elyria.

Meru even began communicating to some of the more powerful Mages when they pulled deeply on their magic, encouraging them to draw further and fade into the ether; anything for a bit of magic to return to its natural place.

Still, the gods refused to relinquish their stolen powers.

So, when one of my chosen children appeared, wielding a power so great, I could practically feel Meru vibrate in palpable excitement.

The release of the godling’s Destruction Magic on this place was a double-edged sword, allowing Meru to briefly draw from the roiling power before it began to consume this hallowed plane and released Solace and Kaos.

Force her to create. Heal the earth. Bring the rain.

The simplicity of the solution was brilliant yet laughable. How could I force either godling to bend to my whims when I couldn’t even leave this fucking chair?

Without warning, Meru quaked, the earth shuddering on a sigh as I felt a strong innervation come from Elyria. Magic reunited with its maker, and Meru’s grasp on my life force eased a fraction, enough that I could draw gasping breaths and push myself further upright.

Meru pulsed with a new energy, and the sudden switch had me reeling, my hands immediately darting for the Strings of Fate that were connected to my chosen children.

No, no, no, I chanted as my fingers shakily conjured those six golden threads. Only one as powerful as them would be able to feed Meru in such a way, which meant that one—or more— had died.

Those six golden strands shimmered into existence as I rapidly panted through my nose before freezing completely; my heart rate dropped, and my blood ran cold as I scanned them a second and third time.

It cannot be.

Not one of the Strings was thick and healthy; none shone with an unearthly glimmer.

Each was thinner and grayer than the last, the edges fraying and warping.

While each of the Strings felt sick, the middle two drew my attention the longest. One was fully black, pieces of it turning to ash and dust that disappeared into the ether as I watched.

Its twin fared little better; only a singular golden thread remained intact, interwoven with threads of the deepest grey that matched the hue of its partner.

Not even Meru’s complete collapse could have pulled my eyes from the sight of that last golden thread slowly disintegrating.

That can’t be. It can’t.

I flicked my shaking hand, banishing the Strings of Fate back into the ether.

For what felt like eons and yet seconds, I stared into the emptiness of the stone room. My thoughts alternated between a jumbled cacophony of questions and complete stillness.

Where had I gone wrong? What had happened to cause such death?

My head sank into my hands as reality dawned heavily—two of my chosen Children were dead.

Kaos and Solace were still alive and in Elyria.

Without a united front, humanity would fall.

Elyria would be subject to the whims of the gods, who would eventually come for me.

I was too weak to defend myself, and my position in the cosmos would be practically given freely to whomever decided to kill me first.

I failed.

“Who are you? Where am I?” A feminine voice full of curiosity yet tinted with terror pulled me from my spiraling thoughts as my head shot up from my hands. My eyes widened as I gazed at the dirt and blood-soaked woman in front of me.

Curly brown hair. Wide hazel eyes lit with intelligence and interest. Light-brown skin tattooed with innumerable runes, one of which was much larger and fresher than the others.

And, above it all, a slight aura of otherness that surrounded her like a thin film.

She looked so much like my daughter that it physically hurt.

“Granddaughter,” I breathed, my voice cracking with emotion.

She was here. She was alive.

But I saw her String die. I watched it happen.

“How is this possible?” I muttered to myself as I watched Faylinn’s eyebrows shoot for her hairline before she schooled her expression once more.

“Apparently I’m a quarter-goddess, if my parentage is to be believed,” she commented dryly, her arms crossing loosely as she cocked her head in curiosity.

I chuffed a laugh, relishing in the ecstasy of Meru’s reprieve.

“Immortality is the only way you’d be able to find this place on your own. Mortals get lost in the catacombs beyond this room and wander for eternity before Meru consumes their essence. Unless I invite them here, that is.” It’s the only way my acolytes were able to visit Meru.

“Why am I here?” Faylinn asked.

“What do you remember last?” I countered, still off-balance from her sudden appearance.

She frowned, her eyebrows nearly touching in concentration as she bit her lip in thought. “The Battle of Vespera. Pulling Rohak from the rubble . . .” she trailed off, but I knew there was more to her statement.

When she didn’t continue, I goaded her into telling me what I wanted to know most.

“He died.”

Her eyes flashed with a slew of emotions before she settled on anger.

“I saved him,” Faylinn bit caustically, and I smiled.

“The Strings of Fate say otherwise,” I said, quickly pulling the twin Strings from the ether.

She blanched, color leeching almost completely from her face as she took inadvertent steps forward.

Faylinn’s long, tattooed fingers reached out hesitantly, inexplicably drawn to her twin’s String.

Hers, I noticed with a furtive glance, was slowly losing its dark pallor, a slight golden sheen working its way from the inside out.

Immortality. I almost laughed at my oversight. Of course her String would rejuvenate.

“Rohak.” Her voice cracked with emotion, silent tears welling before cascading down her face, but she never moved to clear them, simply left her mortal emotion on display as her gaze stayed trained on Rohak’s String.

“See. Dead,” I said flippantly as I banished the Strings.

Faylinn’s eyes flashed dangerously, and I relished the way her emotions were so easy to decipher.

So easy to manipulate. She was considerably more mortal than her mother, that much was obvious, but there was still much of the Bondsmith in her.

“Bring him back,” she demanded almost petulantly. I simply raised my eyebrows at her. If she were anyone else, I’d rip her immortality from her body and feed it to Meru.

My heart thumped loudly as a plan began to form—a way for both of us to get what we wanted.

“No,” I said and watched as she reared her head back in shock before she set her mouth in a hard line, her lips almost disappearing with the movement.

“Can you even bring him back? Is that something in your power?”

“No,” I reiterated. It was neither a lie nor the full truth. Faylinn’s eyes rounded in shock, that hazel turning glossy again.

Something entirely too mortal rattled deep inside at the sight, causing momentary insanity, and spurred my next admission.

“His magic is gone.”

Faylinn froze at my statement, her sniffles the only sound in the room.

“What—what do you mean?” she croaked out as she rubbed her eyes with her soiled shirtsleeve.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

She just touched her eyes with fabric soaked in blood and other unidentifiable liquids.

No wonder mortals died so often and so easily—they couldn’t even keep other people’s bodily fluids out of their own open orifices.

“I mean exactly that,” I continued, relaxing slightly when she stopped pawing at her face. “His magic fled moments before you arrived here. It’s innervating Meru as we speak.”

Faylinn hummed thoughtfully. “But I Life Bonded him—shouldn’t his life force feed off of mine?”

“Theoretically, yes. But whatever killed him was apparently extensive.” Faylinn cocked her head as I spoke, her mind clearly working through the problem. “You will both die if I allow him to return—a permanent death.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment before canting her head side to side.

“You know of a solution, don’t you.” Her quiet accusation was less of a question and more of a statement.

“I do,” I admitted.

“But it’s not for free.”

A slow smile spread across my face as I lounged back in my throne of bones. “As astute as your mother. She was always my favorite child.”

Faylinn scoffed. “Not hard to be, considering the alternatives.”

I barked a laugh, surprised at her nettle.

Her eyes traced my form, lips moving quietly as she catalogued every minute detail.

I was quite certain she would figure out what I wanted in return for bringing her beloved back. The answer, after all, was written in the runes that bound me to this godsforsaken chair.

Faylinn’s eyes widened in quiet understanding before a grim smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Her arms dropped loosely to her sides, and her fingers twitched as if wanting to reach for something.

“I have a bargain for you, Fate,” she announced.

I smiled, a feral and relieved thing.

Finally.