78. Bea #2
The anger in Ban-dia a’ Bhàis eyes grows hotter, the gold in her irises flickering like flames.
“She knows. About the women, and the Epoch. The alignment of the moons once served as a time of celebration. A day the Fates would hand over their crowns to those who pledged to me they would take their place.” Ban-dia a’ Bhàis’s jaw tightens.
“It wasnae until the Fates refused to step down that it became a time of death and mourning. It was your time to ascend over a century ago, when the last Epoch occurred. But you were trapped at the river—unable to die, but unable to ascend to your rightful place. It’s why I added to your curse.
Made it so catching you would give Brennen his answer.
I gave you the spell to be set free. Not to die, but to live.
To reign. It’s the reason Am Breitheamh pledged to bring you to me.
I couldnae interfere with your life, or the Fates, any more than I already had. Too many threads would have unraveled.”
It feels as if I cannot breathe, my lungs too stiff to expand. “You left me the spell?” I ask, the memory of finding the separate piece of parchment tucked away in the rocks flickering into my mind. “The Cutter didn’t know about it at all?”
“Aye. It was me. I couldnae free you, but with Brennen’s help, and when the time was right, I could give you the chance to free yourself,” she says, and the anger that has been simmering in my chest grows.
Cailleach hadn’t just cursed me to the river.
She’d doomed me there forever, with no intention of giving me any sort of chance to escape.
And because of her greed, the monsters have come once again.
The Epoch didn’t have to be like this—a time of death—and yet, she chose for it to be, all to stay in power.
“How do we stop it?” I ask, a sudden urgency erupting in my chest. So many will die, and all because of one power-hungry woman.
Brennen squeezes my hand. “It depends on what you choose. We cannae force you to accept your calling. It must be done willingly. The decision belongs to you, and you alone.”
I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
All I have wanted for so long is rest. Peace.
Becoming the Cutter, the one who will end every life in the kingdom for the next century, goes against every thought and feeling and want I have ever had.
What she’s asking of me, it’s more than I think I can take.
“And if I refuse?” I ask.
The goddess's eyes turn sad. “The Epoch will continue for years to come. The Cutter will rule, and we will be forced to stand by, helpless, and watch the kingdom burn.”
I pinch at my arms, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. The habit is familiar, but this time, I picture my fingers pinching a thread, watching it turn to dust.
Could this be even worse than my curse? Another battle for me to endure, when I am already so very tired. Lives I will not only wash, but end? I look to Brennen, silently begging him to tell me what the right answer is, but he only runs a thumb across my hand.
The women’s faces from my visions flash in my mind. Lives ended too soon by the Cutter. Women who deserved so much more than the fate they received.
Betty.
The woman in love at the pub.
The mother kissing her child.
The tailor’s daughter.
The woman twirling in the green dress.
Women who had begged me to help them.
Resolve ignites in my chest, growing larger by the second until it fills my chest and solidifies. I refuse to fail them again.
“I accept.” The words leap from my throat before I’ve fully decided to say them, my voice shaking, but I cannot say no. If this is truly my fate, then I will not fear it. I will not cower.
The moment I speak the words, the dàn on my hand begins to sting, then burn.
A white-hot agony that spreads into my arms. My torso and legs.
My head. My vision turns red behind my eyelids, and the air is ripped violently from my lungs.
I nearly collapse. I would, if Brennen didn’t catch me, pulling me into his arms and tucking my head beneath his chin.
I wish for death. Beg for it. For anything at all to end this agony.
“So strong, m’ anam,” Brennen whispers into my hair. “So brave. The pain will end soon. I’m here.”
And even though I am certain it will never end—that it will only get worse until my mind and body shatter—slowly, it begins to fade. My heart slows, my breaths once again growing steadier.
When I open my eyes again, the world is different. Sharper. The stars twinkle in shocking shades of yellow and purple and pink, and the silver sand shimmers as if made from gemstones. The fatigue has drained from my body, and my muscles feel strong in a way I’ve never experienced.
I meet Brennen’s eyes. Eyes so full of awe and adoration, I want to bottle the way it makes me feel so I can carry it with me on my darkest days.
“It is done. There isnae time to waste. She must go,” the goddess says to Brennen, and he stiffens.
“Where she goes, I will follow,” he says, straightening as if daring the goddess to defy him. Her eyes flick to our joined hands.
“Interesting,” she says, tilting her head. “Are you certain? You could return to your home. Resume your duties to the souls that pass.”
“No,” Brennen almost growls, and my heart swells.
Could it really be possible there’s a place for us, after all?
“Did I not jump into the After to follow her, thinking it would lead to my own death? I dinnae care if you strip me of my duties. If you refuse to make me immortal again. I willnae be leaving her side.”
The goddess presses her lips together for several long moments. “If you are to continue on this quest, know I cannae help you. There are things you do not know. Things I cannae tell you. There will be danger. ”
Brennen pulls me closer. “Aye,” he says. “Whatever the consequences are, I’ll accept them.”
The goddess nods, though she doesn’t look pleased.
She turns her attention away from Brennen, meeting my eyes. “You must find your sisters in fate and destroy their dedication dàn so the Cutter cannae reach them.”
“If cutting the dàn makes it so they are untethered from magic, does that not make them immortal?”
“No. It removes them from the magic gifted by one of the Fates, their direct connection to them, but the Cutter can still cut their thread as it was measured. That was my design. Travel through the After and complete the Trials of the Three. Only then will you be granted passage through where life begins. Find the one destined to weave, then go beyond, to where pain dwells, to seek out the one who will measure. Help them awaken the dàn in their minds, and their magic will return to them.”
Brennen tilts his head. “Life begins at the Faerie Pools, but where does pain dwell?”
Ban-dia a’ Bhàis’s eyes turn sad. “You know I cannot tell you the answer to that. All will be learned in time. But you must hurry. The Cutter will not surrender. Only with your sisters at your side will you be able to defeat her.”
“We will,” Brennen says, his voice so confident, I’m almost convinced he believes it.
Because how are we supposed to find two women we do not even know?
How are the three of us supposed to defeat an all-powerful Fate who has been ruling for hundreds of years?
One even the goddess of death has been unable to sway for centuries?
“You must be careful, Bea. When you broke the curse, you shattered the magic that bound you, but also that which protected you. Where you once stood on the precipice of death, near her, but never touching, you are now firmly within her realm. Once you pass through those gates…” she waves a hand toward the enormous arches at her back.
“If you die down here, or beyond, either of you—”
“Our lives will be over. Cailleach will continue to rule, and our people will suffer,” I finish for her.
“Aye.” She gestures toward the gates. Brennen moves to my side, grabbing my hand as they creak open, exposing the vast, misty darkness beyond. “Welcome to the River’s End.”