The Mortal Knife

by D. J. McCune

  ‘Stop.’ The voice rang with authority. Adam turned his head almost as fast as Morta did. Clotho was very calm. ‘Enough now. This has gone too far.’

  ‘Greetings, sister. What a pleasant surprise.’ Morta’s face transformed, her smile becoming a snarl. ‘I should have seen your busy hand in all of this. I didn’t think you would take such a chance with one of your precious souls. I’m impressed you could be so ruthless. Maybe you should have been the thread-cutter, not the spinner.’

  ‘Enough, sister.’ Clotho seemed to be struggling to find the right words. ‘This has been a mistake – all of it. You cannot remain here but I do not wish to shame you. I know the pride in your soul. I know the pride you brought to your family. So … now it is time. Revoke your service. Go into your Light with honour.’

  ‘You think I will walk away? That I will cut my thread after everything I endured to get here?’ Morta laughed. ‘You’re a crazy old woman. Maybe we need more new blood around here.’

  ‘I am giving you a choice. There is always a choice. Take it. Revoke your service and walk into your Light.’ Clotho was pleading.

  ‘I think it’s time your service was revoked.’ Morta pointed the Mortal Knife up high, to where the lights began to give way to the uninhabited darkness of the Poles. ‘Sweden, yes? Just outside Stockholm. Ah, there you are!’ One light shone out amidst the teeming mass of souls; a clear light that burned like white fire.

  Clotho closed her eyes. She looked unimaginably sad. Adam watched her, horrified. She’s going to die! She’s going to just let Morta kill her and then there’ll be no one to stop her! He wanted to call out and beg Clotho to do something, anything at all to save them. Not just him; not just his family – but the whole world.

  Then Clotho’s eyes snapped open. ‘I am sorry it has come to this, sister,’ she said softly.

  Morta seemed to know what was going to happen a split second before it unfolded. She launched herself into the air, the Mortal Knife heading straight for Clotho’s thread – but the knife and its owner both fell to the ground. Morta threw herself at the blade and managed to grab it but as she stumbled forward she seemed to hit an invisible barrier. She looked at Clotho with pure hate. ‘How are you doing this?’

  There was no triumph in Clotho’s voice. ‘I have been in this realm for a very long time.’ She swept a hand through the air in front of the Tapestry and the lights blinked out, darkness sweeping through the chamber. Only one soul remained illuminated, far west of Britain, across the Atlantic. A red and gold soul that twisted and spiralled and grew brighter and brighter, fierce enough to cast its own light into the chamber. ‘Your soul passed through my hands. There was such very great potential.’

  Morta was straining towards her but getting nowhere. ‘You will not cut my thread,’ she hissed. Before Clotho could react she threw the knife. Adam flinched but Clotho stood unharmed. It was Morta who twisted towards them, her smile savage in the red light for just a second before the Mortal Knife sliced through her thread and the chamber was plunged into darkness.

  Adam stood frozen. He could hear the racing thud of his own heartbeat. The chamber felt hollow now and cold. He was aware of the cavernous space all around him. Out of the darkness a woman’s voice spoke, soft and sad. ‘Atropos, known as Morta, has revoked her service and gone into her Light. Our Light is her Light.’

  The silence that followed was expectant. Adam cleared his throat. ‘Our Light is her Light,’ he whispered.

  Gradually the firefly points of light returned to the chamber walls, the brightest souls glowing first, then the cooler, quieter souls filling in the gaps until the great sphere was illuminated all around them once again. Adam found himself back at the centre of the globe. Clotho bent down and picked up the Mortal Knife – and something else. She moved towards him and when she got close she put out her hand and patted Adam’s cheek. ‘All is well now. You and your family are safe. Be at peace.’

  Adam tasted salt on his lips. He realised he was crying, hot tears running down his face. He swiped his palms across his cheeks and stared at the ground, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. ‘I thought I had to kill her but I couldn’t do it. I … didn’t know she would end herself.’ His stomach churned with guilt and relief.

  ‘It was better that she went into her Light. There was no other way.’ Clotho looked tired. For the first time, Adam could see some hint of her age in the stoop of her shoulders and the lines in her face. She straightened up and reached for Adam’s hand. When she saw the weals in the flesh she frowned and swept her hand across it. A second later the pain had gone and the skin was back to normal. ‘Come. We do not have much time.’

  She led him back to the staircase and they climbed swiftly down. Torches were burning brightly along the walls. There was no need for darkness now. It had only been a few minutes since Adam had crept up the stairs, full of fear. Now as they descended all he felt was numbness, listening to his feet patter on the steps over and over. Morta was dead. He was safe now. They were all safe now. He should be happy.

  Clotho was in front and moving faster than him. He hurried after her, catching up as they reached the bottom of the staircase. They emerged into the marble hallway. It seemed even colder and brighter than before. Adam stared around, not quite able to shake the feeling that he was trapped in a nightmare. Only the sight of his brother lying on the velvet couch made it real. ‘Is Luc going to be OK?’

  Clotho moved swiftly across to Luc and bent down beside him. She rested a hand on his forehead and nodded. ‘He must return to the physical world. His body and mind have been through trauma. He will take some time to heal.’ She stroked Luc’s cheek as tenderly as a mother with her baby. ‘I remember this one.’ Clotho smiled softly. ‘He’s going to surprise everyone, himself most of all.’

  ‘Surprise people how?’ Adam said. His voice sounded cracked and croaky.

  Her smile faded. ‘That depends on Luc. He has darkness and light, as all mortals do. Only he can choose his path.’

  Adam hesitated. ‘And what about me?’ He was whispering, without meaning to. What he really wanted to do was shout and yell and scream, ‘What about me? Will I always be the failure? The disappointment? The one who can’t do anything right, even when I try?’

  Clotho looked at him with that strange, piercing gaze that seemed to see straight through him and into his soul. She knew what he was thinking; Adam could see that. ‘You have nothing to fear, Adam. Life is brief and beautiful. Be the man you are meant to be. Be a clear light in the world. If you do that, your mortal life will cause you no regret and when the time comes you will step through your Light in peace.’

  Adam nodded. Some of the painful pressure in his chest eased, even though she hadn’t really answered him at all. What she’d told him was enough. He joined her at Luc’s side and together they looked down at his sleeping brother. The blood crusted on Luc’s chest was stark and horrible against his alabaster skin. Adam winced looking at it. ‘Why did she do that?’

  ‘Because she was scarred herself. She took her pain and chose to be cruel.’ Clotho’s face was expressionless. She passed her hand across the wound and it disappeared. The terrible paleness began to fade and colour rushed back into Luc’s face. ‘He will wake soon. Take him home.’

  ‘How am I going to explain it to him?’ Adam bit his lip. How much had Morta told him?

  Clotho didn’t answer. She slipped her hand beneath Luc’s head. Luc lay there perfectly still; then without warning his body went rigid. His neck arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream, before his body fell back into repose. Clotho pulled her hand away. She looked ill. ‘I have done what I can. Unweaving memory is a complex affair and I have little time. Fragments may remain for him, like a dream or a vision.’ She reached into the pouch on the front of her dress and pulled out Luc’s keystone. A wave of her hand and it was safely back on Luc’s neck. ‘You must go now – but first I need the token.’

  Adam frowned, confused, until he remembere
d what she meant. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his school trousers and pulled out the earring. Looking at it now gave him a mixture of revulsion and fascination. He felt a strange reluctance to hand it over. He would probably never see this place again. ‘What if I need to come back here?’

  ‘This is not a place for mortals, Adam. You may be here briefly for the next Summoning but the next Atropos will be chosen with care.’ A faint smile touched her lips. ‘As will the next Clotho.’

  Adam stared at her. ‘But … You didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t replace you!’

  Clotho shook her head. ‘Like Morta, the time has come for me to revoke my service. I have been here too long. I have my own path to walk now on the Unknown Roads and there is nothing for me to fear. I will go into my Light with honour.’ She clasped Adam’s cheeks in her hands and gently kissed his forehead. ‘I am glad to have known you, Adam Mortson. Precious soul.’ She smiled and for a second her eyes were bright. ‘So, now you must go.’

  Adam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Between them, they helped Luc to his feet. He was stirring and murmuring and Adam knew they had to get out of there. Clotho moved her hand and a doorway appeared. She opened it, revealing the Hinterland beyond. Adam double-checked both his and Luc’s keystones and stepped into the grey light. He turned and looked at Clotho one last time. ‘I’ll see you again someday?’

  Clotho smiled. ‘I hope that is so, Adam Mortson. Till we meet again on the Unknown Roads.’ She bowed her head and closed the door one final time. Even as he watched, the doorway disappeared, leaving him and Luc alone at the centre of an infinite twilight.

  It was time to go home. Adam took his own keystone and Luc’s in his hand and hoped fervently that he could do this. Holding Luc’s arm tight, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and swooped.

  Adam had never been more relieved to see their garden. How long had he been gone? Maybe just a few minutes. Morta hadn’t killed anyone since her last vicious swipes at the Tapestry of Lights – but with a bit of luck Nathanial and Aron would still be away on their jobs. There was no way he wanted to explain why Luc was semi-conscious and stumbling like a drunk. He half led, half dragged his brother to the front door, pausing in the hall. He could hear his mother and Auntie Jo squabbling in the kitchen and Chloe thumping out something semi-recognisable on the piano. They must only just have come home. One more minute of luck was all he needed.

  Luc was coming round. His eyes were slits and his legs seemed to be moving in different directions but a mixture of urgent pleas and a bit of manhandling got him to the top of the stairs. Adam opened Luc’s bedroom door and tipped him onto the bed, scarpering before his brother could fully wake. He stood out on the landing for a second, getting his breath back, until he heard someone coming up the stairs. Panicking that all could still be lost, he hurtled into his bedroom, feeling his heart flutter with relief when he saw the note sitting just where he had left it. He managed to rip it into quarters and shove it in his pocket before Chloe knocked. ‘Dinner’s ready,’ she chorused.

  Adam flung open the door. ‘I’m coming now. I’ll wake Luc.’

  Chloe raised an eyebrow. ‘He’s been sleeping? Father was looking for him earlier.’ She rolled her eyes and flounced off downstairs.

  Adam breathed out slowly, shredding the rest of the note in his pocket. Luc was going to have to explain his absence – but what would he remember? Hesitating, he knocked on his brother’s door. There was a muffled groan from inside which he took as an invitation. He poked his head inside, trying to act like everything was normal. ‘Dinner’s ready.’

  Luc raised his head up off the pillow and stared at him, as if he’d never seen him before. ‘Yeah, OK. Thanks.’

  Adam studied him, petrified that Luc would blurt something out; remember what he had seen. ‘How are you? I mean, why are you in bed?’

  Luc blinked and let his head slump back on the pillow. ‘I don’t know. I must have been tired.’ He frowned and rubbed his eyes. ‘I have just had the trippiest dream.’

  Adam snorted. ‘I’ll bet you did,’ he muttered.

  Chapter 24

  Over the next week life returned to something like normal – or as normal as it ever got for Adam. Nathanial was cagey about what had happened but Adam knew that shockwaves had gone through the Luman world. Although the number of sudden deaths had returned to normal, Nathanial was barely home, constantly attending meetings with Curators and High Lumen, who were all trying to get to the bottom of why not one but two Fates had revoked their service without any warning. He had no idea that the one person able to answer his question was sitting at the dinner table every evening, trying to look inconspicuous.

  Adam watched his brother closely over the weekend. Luc seemed fine but quieter than usual. He stayed close to home instead of disappearing out the way he usually did. Elise and Chloe were pleased to have him around the house more. Only Auntie Jo seemed concerned at the sudden change in character. He was with them physically but sometimes it seemed like his thoughts were elsewhere. He would start talking about something, then tail off. Watching Luc come to a halt halfway through a sentence filled Adam with guilt. His brother seemed permanently confused. Was it from having his memories ‘unwoven’? Would it pass? Clotho had said it would take time for Luc to recover. He hoped it wouldn’t take long.

  Going into school the Monday after Morta’s demise was a truly strange experience. As he blinked around his classes, he marvelled that everything else still looked the same. There was the Buzzard, terrorising his biology classmates as usual. Poor Stinky Pete still sat at the front bench, directly in her firing line. Adam ignored her rants. She didn’t seem as terrifying now after Morta.

  It was the last week of school before Easter. Part of Adam was dreading the holidays, but as the week went on that changed. Ironically for once it was school where he began to feel like public enemy number one, instead of at home.

  Firstly, Spike was quiet with him for several days. He avoided talking to Adam but as they sat in the library Adam could feel his friend’s eyes boring into him. He wanted to ask what was wrong but it was risky with the other two there. Even Dan and Archie picked up on the atmosphere – impressive when they usually had the emotional radars of fruit flies. On Thursday, the day before they finished for Easter, they were at their usual table at breaktime. Conversation was at an all-time low. Eventually Archie sighed. ‘I don’t know what is going on with you two but seriously – sort it out, will you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dan piped up. ‘It’s like that old film we had to watch in English. Everyone kind of staring at each other and not saying anything.’

  Adam grinned in spite of himself, although he cringed on the inside. He knew exactly what Dan meant. ‘There’s no problem with me.’

  Spike didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes.

  Dan and Archie exchanged glances. They knew that whatever it was it was bad, and with Spike in this frame of mind it wasn’t the time to get on the wrong side of him. Archie announced, ‘I’m going to art,’ at the same time that Dan muttered, ‘I need to go and get my physics file.’ They stared at each other accusingly, before standing up and fleeing.

  Adam sighed. ‘OK, I don’t know what’s going on. What’s your problem?’

  Spike didn’t look up. ‘You tell me.’

  Adam glared at him, exasperated. Whatever petty crime he had committed was nothing to what he’d done in the Realm of the Fates. It was hard to take it seriously. ‘I’m not psychic.’

  Spike looked up. There was a hardness in his face that Adam hadn’t seen before. ‘OK. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time I spent a whole weekend working on a program to help me find a mysterious guy who magically escaped seconds before a bomb went off. Proof, if you like, that actual ninjas exist. Only my dickhead “mate” poked about at my laptop and erased a file – or a photo, to be exact. The same mate that didn’t want me to find the ninja, right from the start.’ He paused and waited fo
r an answer. When none came he scowled. ‘You’re the dickhead, in case you didn’t get it.’

  Adam tried hard to look like someone honestly puzzled. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking –’

  ‘I have the log. I can see exactly when it happened: in chemistry after school while I was doing the message for Suresh. I came back and found you messing about with my laptop.’

  ‘I was looking at the photos,’ Adam protested. ‘I told you, I thought I knew the Jewish guy. Maybe I deleted one by accident.’

  Spike shook his head. ‘I don’t think you did. You never wanted me to find out who the guy was, right from the start. You know I’m going to find out.’ He stood up and closed the laptop. ‘Last chance. Tell me.’

  Adam tried to laugh. ‘You’re being crazy! You’re making something out of nothing. I didn’t mean to delete anything!’

  Spike was studying him. ‘You know, we’ve been mates for years now, and I don’t know anything about you. I’ve never been to your house. You hardly ever meet up with us out of school. I don’t even know what your parents do. For all I know your dad could be a diamond thief or a terrorist. Maybe he was the ninja.’ Spike glared at him and pointed an accusing finger. ‘I think you’re hiding something. Something really big.’

  Adam stared at him, paralysed. Spike was just throwing ideas into the air, not being serious. But what if he got serious? He made one last effort at pleading. ‘Look, there’s nothing going on. If I deleted something it was an accident. I’m sorry. But I’m not hiding anything.’