by Alicia Fabel
“Oh, I like having words.” Yama pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against in the shadows. “Although we should walk and have words. Rufus somehow lost your trail a while back, but he’s picked it up again.”
“He doesn’t look like a patch-work anteater, by chance?” Vera looked up.
“He’s more centipede-ish,” said Yama. “Why? Did you run into someone else fun around here?”
“Like you don’t already know,” Vera retorted.
“It was quite a show,” he replied.
“Who was that little girl?” Vera asked.
Kale perked up. She’d have to tell him what happened later.
“An old friend,” Yama said.
“Does she happen to age backward?” Vera asked.
“No, but wouldn’t that be a trick?”
Vera knew he wasn’t going to give her any straight answers, but she had a suspicion that the goddess of love left Lemuria more often than people knew. Except, if Kale didn’t know about her little side trips, she was getting around another way. That was disconcerting.
“Are you going to walk us all the way out?” Kale asked with an edge in his tone.
“Fine, fine,” said Yama. “I’ve had as much fun tonight as I dared. I will let you see yourselves out. It was a pleasure to meet you, Vera. Come back anytime. You are a blast.”
And then he was gone.
“He’s still listening, isn’t he?” Vera asked.
“To every single word uttered in this place.”
“You are insane,” Vera announced boldly toward the ceiling. She was rewarded with laughter floating on air around her. “You know the way out, Kale?”
“We’re fairly deep inside Diyu at this point. It will take us a few hours to walk out.”
“Do we have to walk through any torture chambers?”
“We’ll go around them.”
Good. “What about Rufus?”
“We should probably move a little faster,” Kale said.
“We’re already power walking. I cannot run for three hours.”
“If we ran, it would only be one or two,” Kale pointed out.
Vera groaned but began to trot. The farther they went from the passage, the darker it got. Eventually, Vera slowed. “I’m going to run into something.”
“Up you go.” Kale hooked an arm through hers, and she only hesitated a second. “We’ll be out of here in forty minutes.”
“Show off,” she mumbled. “Make it thirty, and I’ll be impressed.”
Kale didn’t reply, but he bolted forward. Vera tucked her arms around his waist and ducked her head between his shoulder blades. For the first time in months, she felt like she had a handle on her own life. Like she’d finally gained some control and could focus on getting to Marianna without worrying about Kale falling apart. The air smelled cleaner as they moved toward the exit. She couldn’t wait to be out of this maze. Every once in a while, a scream punctuated the silence. Kale held to his promise that they would avoid the torture chambers. At one point, an orange light emanated down a side tunnel, but Kale didn’t slow.
Vera stretched up and kissed Kale’s neck. Then fire speared her through the center of her back. Vera screamed and let go. Kale faltered, but she was already falling. There was yelling. Kale cried out in rage and something snarled. And then it all faded away. The fire sent shoots of numbness from her core down to her fingers. It felt like she was floating. And then even that sensation went away.
Kale watched the blood pool around her body, unable to stop it. Without the meadow, he couldn’t heal her—couldn’t bring her back as he’d done a few times before. Her heart slowed while Rufus circled them. The creature was silent, blending so seamlessly with the shadows that Kale couldn’t see him. When the monster tried to finish the job and rip Vera away from him, Kale fought him off. Rufus backed up and waited, biding his time while Kale wore himself down. At least twenty barbs stuck out from Kale’s flesh. Each one dosed him with venom. Finally, Kale crouched over Vera—his last stand.
“Get out here,” Kale called to Yama.
His voice was hoarse, but he knew Yama heard. Yama was no doubt watching with a great deal of amusement, but he wouldn’t come. The Infernal couldn’t intercede. They’d chosen to trespass, and this was the consequence. For all that Yama was warped and sadistic, he was fair and just. Every action had a consequence. This just happened to be theirs. If they’d gotten away, so be it. But they hadn’t. Although, how the beast had gotten ahead of them made no sense.
He folded Vera into his arms as the last of his consciousness faded. Her heart was already still. His only consolation was that he would be gone soon too. He’d rather be lost to the depths of Diyu than left alive in a world without her.
18
Yama dragged Kale from the cave sometime after Rufus stole Vera’s body. When Kale finally made it back to the meadow, he didn’t need to inform anyone of what had happened. Jemma had watched the entire scene play out in her mind. Mother intercepted him with tears on her cheeks and Braxas at her side. He wondered if this was Susie’s plan all along, if Marianna knew, and if she’d told Mimi and Addamas. The news would destroy Mimi.
“I’m going after Marianna,” was all Kale said and stumbled toward the gate to Heliopolis.
“You can’t,” Mother argued.
Kale whirled around. She would not dare refuse him.
Braxas stepped forward, but the witch put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she murmured. To Kale, she said, “We will end this and put the world back together as Vera wanted. But if we are going to avenge Vera and get Mimi and Addamas back, we have to be smart.”
“I don’t care about being smart.”
“I know,” said Mother. “But the genies in Heliopolis are missing. We believe they are helping Marianna. If you aren’t smart, you won’t get revenge. You’ll die. And we won’t get Mimi and Addamas back either.”
Kale closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. “What are you suggesting then?”
“We need to gather our supporters—Vera’s supporters. We need as many people as we can to help us take back our world,” she answered. “And then we’re marching on a fate.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long,” Kale admitted.
I can take over until it’s time, offered Ferrox.
I need to kill her.
I promise I will let you, and I will cheer you on as you do. But let me take the reins for now.
Kale wanted to scream and rage, but instead, he let go. He let himself fade into nothingness.
Vera blinked away the blur of sleep.
“Thank the gods,” said Mimi, leaning over her. “I wasn’t sure you would ever wake again.”
Vera attempted to sit up, but the pain in the center of her chest pinned her to the mattress. She lay back, breathing shallowly through her teeth.
“A centipede speared you through the chest. Do you remember?”
Everything flooded back. “Kale,” she gasped.
Mimi held her gently. “Marianna said he’s fine.”
That’s when Vera realized she was in Marianna’s house. “How’d I get here?”
“Diyu’s Infernal host sent you here once he made sure Kale believed you were dead. Only you nearly did die. Marianna was not happy.”
“Are you okay? And Addamas?”
“We’re fine.” Mimi rubbed her belly. “All of us.”
“Do you know what she’s planning? Or how to stop her?”
Mimi hesitated. “I’m not allowed to tell you anything.”
“What will happen if you do?”
Mimi winced.
“Can’t tell me that either, huh,” Vera guessed. “Can we leave?”
Mimi shook her head. “Sorry. But I can confirm that she’s psychotic.”
“I’d already figured that one out. And don’t be sorry.” Vera braced a hand to her chest and sat up slowly, scrunching her face from the pain. “This isn’t your fault.” She peeked do
wn inside her shirt at her bandage-covered chest. “I’d hoped I’d dreamt that too.”
“Too?”
“Diyu was…eventful,” Vera said. “Now I need to figure out why I’m here and what she wants from me.”
“I’d love to explain,” said Marianna from the doorway. “I told you that you should come to visit and hear some of my stories.”
“I didn’t realize you would go on a rampage and destroy the world if I didn’t,” Vera said through clenched teeth. “Or I would’ve skipped class.”
Marianna smiled. “Sometimes things need to be a little broken before they can get better.”
Vera raised a brow. “Yeah, that sounds sane.”
“Mimi, can you go make sure that satyr hoodlum doesn’t destroy my kitchen?”
Mimi squeezed Vera’s hand and then slipped out.
“We will stop you,” Vera informed the weaver.
“You can’t stop me.”
“You’re a fate, aren’t you?”
“A half-breed one. Although my people called ourselves weavers. I never hid that truth from you.”
“You deceived Kale and all of us.”
“Deception is about being selfish and wanting to hurt someone.” Marianna shrugged. “I never wanted to hide anything from any of you. I never wanted to hurt anyone. All I’ve wanted is what’s best for everyone, with no cares for myself. I never actually deceived anyone.”
Vera’s brain shorted and then raced. Holy basket of crazies. The way to beat Kale’s deception markings is by being a sociopath. “But you knew we would get hurt anyway. You saw it, and you arranged it.”
“I didn’t actually,” Marianna corrected. “Suzie did.”
“How did you know Suzie?”
“She was my daughter.”
Vera was speechless.
“She was my greatest joy.” Marianna’s face softened at the memory. “She took after her father—my little daayan half-breed. But she had a special weaver tell—she was born with the ability to read the threads. It’s something that only one in a thousand weavers could do. So while I wove the tapestries of the world, she could read the stories in them.”
A half-breed. Of course Talia would make the distinction between a daayan and a daayan half-breed. “Suzie had the Fate Eye,” Vera concluded.
Marianna nodded with a smile. “She loved Earth’s tales of our kind. She thought they were hysterical.”
“She could see the present as a daayan, and all the futures with her fate sight.” Which filled in many of the pieces that had been missing from the puzzle.
“One day, she started making connections between the two. She studied my work until she could match up what she saw in the present with what I wove. Eventually, she could predict how things would end up.”
“When did Suzie start manipulating things to get the future she wanted?”
“We started with small things. She directed my hand because she could read the threads, mind you. I would pull and reweave new threads until she saw the outcome we wanted.”
“But it’s wrong to change the future,” Vera said.
“Even when the future leads to the end of our entire world?”
“Okay, yeah, I plan to change that future,” Vera conceded. “But I only have to because you guys wove it.”
“No, we didn’t. We watched it happening, helpless like everyone. An oracle can try to intervene, change little things like stopping a woman from falling down the stairs, but they have no idea the repercussions of their actions until it’s too late to go back. Suzie saw all the ripples for every change. She helped me weave precisely what we wanted for the world’s future—with a few thousand contingencies built in just in case anything went sideways.”
“She chose whose lives were important,” Vera interpreted.
“Sometimes. But only when those lives brought the world back on track,” said Marianna. “When Suzie first read the threads, she found that every single one led to the end of our world. Except for one single thread. You were our chance to save the world.”
“So you manipulated me into doing what you wanted.”
“No, deary. Everything you ever did was because you are you. We never made you do anything. We only created opportunities and then watched you act according to your beautiful nature.”
“What about Noah, Gage, and Leah? You sacrificed them.”
“Oh, many more than that, I’m afraid,” said Marianna. “Kuwari’s guard, the horde’s victims, the thread-bearers of Summartir, and so many more.”
A knot formed at the base of Vera’s throat. “You did that?”
“We made sure all of that happened. If we hadn’t, they’d all be alive, and the world would be doomed.”
“I can’t.” Vera blinked away tears. “How can you choose some lives over others?”
“Not easily, I assure you. Knowing that my Suzie would have to sacrifice herself just about made me decide to let the world end. I decided I’d rather that than to see her die.” Marianna swiped away a tear. “In the end, she was a stronger and better woman than me. And here we are.”
Vera’s mind flew over everything that had brought her to this point. “Errock?”
“I brought him forward from the past. That was a tricky bit of weaving. He made sure you ended up in the meadow, that you went to Summartir, and that Kale went to the horde.”
“But you killed him. Or you had Fred kill him, anyway.”
“His usefulness was over. Plus, I needed that portal back for later, didn’t I?”
“The eggtooth poison? The packages sent all over the place?”
“All me. Although Kale wasn’t the first person I poisoned,” Marianna smiled. “You were. On multiple occasions.”
Vera sputtered. “Why?”
“To give your magic a little nudge.”
“What else did you manipulate?”
“I have a couple of friends who owed me favors. Alalana for one. I helped her bind her lover to the sea once. In return, she made sure you gave up just the right thing while you were in Po.”
“What was the point of that?”
“You needed to grow through loss and hardship. I couldn’t have them take away your ability to love, though. That’s what pushes you to help others at the risk to yourself. A witch, a nymph, a spider, a siphon, and so many more. So we made sure Alalana used just the right wording when the time came.”
“And you sent her to Diyu to screw with my head too.”
“That wasn’t my doing. I knew Alalana would be there, but I didn’t arrange it. She’s just a rather great person for one of the Cloud Children—once you overlook the cannibalism. But otherwise, she’s a great woman.”
“Does she know everything?”
“The end goal, yes. The same with that rascal from Diyu.”
“You’re manipulating Yama too?”
“Manipulating is a harsh word. I just made sure I was there for him when his games got a little rough, and his dear Rufus ended up a casualty. The poor creature was the only one of his kind, and Yama was devastated. So I weaved him up a Rufus-two. When it comes right down to it, though, Diyu is that Infernal’s playground. He’s not interested in seeing the world end and having all his fun end with it. So we arranged a little show for Kale at just the right moment.”
“Kale thinks I’m dead.”
“And he’s in bad shape because of it,” Marianna informed her. “But as you needed to go to Nibiru and learn you could be your own champion, Kale needs to learn he has value other than being your protector. Otherwise, he’ll never be what he should.”
“Where is this all leading?” Vera asked.
“Where all things lead,” Marianna replied. “War.”
“War is how you plan to save the world?” You’re bat-crap loco, lady.
“War is how I plan to bring people together. Saving the world will be up to them afterward. That will only happen if you are there, though.”
“You’re going to send me back to get ready for a w
ar?”
“No my dear, the war is coming here.”
“If war comes here, Mimi’s people will die.”
“Come here and look at something.” Marianna waved Vera over to the window.
Warily, Vera complied. They were on a bluff overlooking a sheltered valley. Below, swarms of people gathered in what looked like a pop-up city of tents and hovels. “Who are all those people?”
“Those are the people who want Earth gone once and for all. They’ve been gathering in this corner of Heliopolis for over a year—building support and strength.”
“How are they getting here?”
“The genies finally figured it out…with a little help.” Marianna winked.
Of course. Vera pointed at a figure weaving through the tents. “Is that Yama? Wait, there’s another one of him… There are like five Yamas down there.”
“More than that. I think he has himself split into at least a hundred at the moment.”
“I thought you said he’s doesn’t want the world to fall.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Then what’s he doing down there?”
“I’ve built up quite a network of spies. After Suzie was gone, I needed eyes and ears everywhere to make sure everything went as planned.” Marianna sat tiredly on the edge of the bed.
“You have a lot of blood on your hands,” Vera told her. “None of your whacked good intentions will take any of that away.”
“There was already more blood on my hands—before any of this began—than you can ever imagine,” Marianna revealed. “It is my people’s fault that the Unraveling came to be. All of those lives lost, and souls turned evil, are on my hands too. A few more lives lost to right that wrong can’t hurt me now.”
“Explain how the Unraveling could possibly be your fault.”
“My people were from the kingdom of Mu.”
“I’ve heard that. There was a book.”
Marianna waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, you had a chance to get answers, but you didn’t. Once this is over, you can share that record with the world. For now, let me tell you an abbreviated version of my people’s history.” She took a deep breath and began, “We were the weavers and kirin. Weaving the histories and futures of the world while the kirin went out and wove the hearts of the people together. Where one wove cloth and reality, the other wove tolerance and compassion.”
