The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  By the time I wander past the workroom where I’ve spent such a large portion of my life, everyone has gone to bed. I’m glad. I’m not sure I would have possessed the strength to walk past Galenia and Horatia. Plus, I know I can’t examine the tapestry during the day. I need time alone with it.

  I shut the door behind me and approach the tapestry slowly, taking in its beauty, almost as if I’m seeing it for the first time. I feel so torn between two worlds. A part of me feels like Earth is now my rightful home, but here, seeing the tapestry, I feel the tug of my calling strongly enough that my fingers start to twitch.

  From a distance, the tapestry appears undamaged. However, I notice there have been very few new additions since my departure, which means production is way down. I’ve been gone for over a year on Earth. There should be a whole new section, at least a million threads added. But there’s only maybe half that amount. The cascading impact will be tremendous.

  I shake my head as I examine the threads. There are so many, it seems an impossible task to find seven specific ones among the billions that make up it up. When we watch threads, we choose them at random, never searching for any one in particular. Kismet’s thread was an exception. Between the sparkling gem it was, and the way I’m drawn to it, it’s always easy to find. Others though… I’m not sure it’s even possible. But I have to try.

  Kismet’s thread is the easiest to find, so I begin there. I frown as I bring my hand closer to the delicate fabric in front of me. None of the threads around hers are damaged, but a clean cut has been made through her thread. The bottom portion of her thread is missing.

  My pulse quickens as my mind races with the possibilities. What would someone want with a portion of her thread? Andrew’s thread is next. To my dismay, I discover the same thing. It takes a little more time, but I find the five other threads too, all of them cut short. I notice some damage around the other threads. Nysa was the first, I remember. There are at least three threads around hers that have been shredded and frayed. Those lives will be permanently altered. I look back to Kismet’s thread, confirming the lack of damage around hers. It’s almost like whoever is doing it is getting better at it with time and practice.

  What could it possibly mean?

  Settling in, I decide to watch Nysa’s thread first. Her life is just as it should be. Until it isn’t. The end is just as abrupt and confusing as Michaela described it.

  Nysa was a nurse in the oncology ward of a pediatric hospital. It was taxing work, but she found it very rewarding. Her last patient before she passed away was a young boy named Shiloh.

  Nysa knew he wouldn’t make it. It was a miracle he’d survived as long as he had. His mother seemed very distraught, but the boy seemed to be at peace with his fate.

  She tried to comfort the woman out in the hallway. “Shiloh needs you to be strong now.”

  The woman’s tearful expression turned cold. “I don’t need you to tell me what I need to be or do right now. My son is dying. I need to save him. Whether you plan on helping me or not.”

  Nysa straightened, apologized, and excused herself. This was probably the type of thing she had to deal with all too often in her line of work. The rest of her day was filled with paperwork, tending other patients, nothing remarkable. She started to feel ill near the end of the day, and the very next day, she was gone.

  That’s it. I sit back, sighing. Kismet passed away so quickly, with no signs of illness. Why did Nysa’s death take so long? A chill runs down my spine as I examine her damaged thread again. Was her death drawn out because whoever did this didn’t make a clean cut?

  “Can I help you?”

  The familiar voice stops my train of thought cold.

  “Hey, don’t touch that. Keepers shouldn’t touch the tapestry. You might damage it.” Webber runs over and grabs my arm, turning me to face him.

  18.

  The look on Webber’s face transforms from surprise to fear as he tries to comprehend what my presence could possibly mean. He drops my arm like a hot potato.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Maybe I should ask you the same thing,” I respond. “Come to take another thread for yourself?”

  “What?” Webber takes a step back, glancing around nervously.

  His attitude seems to confirm he’s the one responsible. He has to be. Otherwise, why would he be so nervous?

  “What are you doing with them? I know why you took Andrew and Kismet, but why the others? Why not start with Andrew? Did you need practice to get it right?”

  Instead of answering, Webber takes another step back.

  I advance on him, taking advantage of my upper hand. “Webber, answer me. Why?”

  “I…” he stammers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t hurt me.”

  “What? Why would I hurt you? What have you done to deserve being hurt?”

  “Nothing! I swear.” He holds up his hands in defense. I’m getting more and more confused. Heavenly beings don’t raise their hands against each other. What is Webber so scared of and why?

  “Webber, why do you think I’d hurt you? If anything, I would take you to the archangels and report your crimes. But I would never strike you in any way. No matter what you might deserve.”

  “You are fallen. You don’t have to adhere to the rules of heaven anymore.”

  That gives me pause. Am I forever tainted by my banishment? Is everyone going to be afraid of me? Michaela isn’t. “You’re an idiot. If you knew me at all, you’d know I wasn’t going to hurt you. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “What are you doing here then?” Webber asks, ignoring my demand. I’m not sure he even heard it. His eyes dart wildly between the tapestry, the door, and me.

  “I’m trying to figure out why people are dying before their time on Earth is up. And I have a feeling you’re behind it, since Andrew and Kismet were two of the victims.”

  “What?” he says, genuine horror in his voice. My eyes narrow. Either he’s a remarkable actor, or he truly isn’t involved. I know Webber. He isn’t smart enough for this level of manipulation. But accepting that means accepting the fact that he isn’t responsible, and I’m not ready to do that.

  “People are dying on Earth, Webber. Well before they were meant to.”

  Webber’s eyes shoot to the tapestry. “I noticed the damage early last week. And then your beautiful thread was cut and removed yesterday,” he says, his voice quiet as he cautiously approaches the tapestry, taking care to glance at me on occasion.

  Have I really been sitting here looking at the tapestry for that long? When I first arrived in the heavens, Kismet had only just been taken. I shake my head, cursing myself for losing track of time.

  “I don’t understand it,” he adds as he examines the fabric.

  “You did this. You had to. You did it to get one final dig in at me.” Even as I say it, I know it’s not true, but that means we don’t have any leads. It means we’re stuck.

  Webber sinks down into a nearby stool. “You got the final dig, Penn,” he says quietly.

  “I… what?” I ask, growing more and more confused.

  “Turns out I’m a much better Weaver than I am a Spinner. I guess I should’ve known that. Production is the worst it’s been in centuries. All because of me. I’m going to be demoted. They just have to find a replacement.”

  I’m about to speak, to ask more questions, but he sighs and cuts me off before I even get my mouth open. “For God’s sake, Penn, I didn’t do this,” Webber says, his fear totally gone. This is more like the Webber I knew. Impatient. Brash.

  “With that kind of sass, you must not be afraid of me anymore,” I say, pulling a stool up to the tapestry and taking a seat beside Webber.

  “I’ve just never seen someone who’s fallen return. They say the fallen become horrible, twisted version of themselves. Lawless and ruthless.”

  I laugh, the sound genuine. “Think about that for a moment. Would God really unleash someone like that on His
creations on purpose?” In all honesty, it’s me who should be afraid of Webber. Of all the people who could have found me here, Webber is the worst. He would do anything to destroy me. Maybe if I can hold on to some of that basic fear, I can convince him to keep his mouth shut.

  “No, I suppose not.”

  We stare at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to make a move. But neither of us knows what to do.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you,” I say.

  Webber nods. “Ditto, actually.”

  I nod. “So you truly don’t know what’s happening here? I mean, I’m fallen. I could shoot lasers out of my eyes at you to get you to tell me the truth.”

  Finally, Webber chuckles. The sound doesn’t irk me as much as it did in another life. Maybe Webber’s right. Falling has changed me some, but not for the worse. It has only made me appreciate the things I left behind. Perhaps even this man I never cared for is not all bad.

  “Penn, now who’s being stupid? Don’t you remember that it’s nearly impossible for heavenly beings to lie?”

  It hits me like a freight train. I sag down on the stool as the truth barrels down on me. “You’re right,” I breathe.

  Webber reaches out to offer a steadying hand. “You okay?”

  “No. I have no idea what’s going on. And I need answers. We have to stop this.”

  Webber nods.

  “Did you tell Michaela what you discovered?” I ask.

  “No. Everything was already so messed up because of me. I was afraid this was my fault too.”

  I frown at him. “Webber, it’s time to grow a pair. Your information may have helped Michaela. She came to get me to help her. More names keep popping up on her list of souls, more people who are dying before their time. You could’ve at least tried to stop this, and you didn’t.” I’m beginning to remember why I didn’t care for Webber.

  “Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a tough time since you left. For everyone.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by that?” Instinct tells me Webber is talking about his sisters, my sisters.

  “Horatia and Galenia haven’t been very happy.” He pauses. “One of my first assignments was for a man, or at least I thought it was supposed to be a man. Adventurous and innocent, those were the instructions. But Horatia cut the thread so short, and Galenia gave him some mysterious skin disease. He never grew to be a man. She killed a kid. I think they did it to gang up on me. They don’t like me much.”

  I bristle. “You don’t know them very well at all, do you? They would never punish a human for something you did, let alone a child. Sometimes kids get sick, but you have to see the larger purpose. Maybe that child will serve as an inspiration to millions of people to find a cure. You can’t be a Fate without seeing the bigger picture, Webber. If you don’t understand that, it’s no wonder you’re not doing well.” It’s harsh, but I can’t listen to him accuse my sisters of that. “They’re your sisters. Treat them with some respect, man.”

  Webber looks up at me with a sadness I hadn’t noticed before. “No, they’re your sisters.”

  I sigh, not knowing what to say to that. I can’t bring myself to feel guilty for his downfall. He got what he wanted. It’s not my fault he can’t handle it. “I’m sorry to hear that they aren’t happy. Is that all?”

  “Well, I guess so. That, on top of everything else, has made for an unpleasant work environment. I mean, how was I supposed to succeed when you were this rock star Fate?” He points accusingly at me.

  “Look, you got what you wanted. Whether you’re involved in the major screw up that’s going on or not, I’m here to fix it. So you can either quit whining and help me or you can keep your damned mouth shut.”

  Webber freezes. Heavenly bodies never throw the word “damned” around like that. Ever. It hits too close to home, with the city of the damned so nearby. I hold my ground as Webber processes what I said.

  “What do you mean by keep my mouth shut?” He deliberately leaves out the damned part.

  I kick myself internally for my slip up and watch as Webber’s mind chews on what I said.

  “If I reveal you, they’ll erase you from existence.”

  “But you’re not going to do that, are you.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  A glint shines in Webber’s eye, just like the one I saw there when I was being escorted out of heaven.

  “Webber, there are too many lives at stake here.”

  “Too many? Seven people have died. Out of billions. Seven. This is barely a problem. You only care because your beloved Kismet was one of them.”

  “That may be why it came to my attention, but—”

  Webber cuts me off. “Oh, please. Your whole good-guy bit only goes so far with me.”

  “And your pathetic loser bit only goes so far with me. As you said, I am fallen. I have nothing to lose. And if you threaten me again, I will silence you.”

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” Webber says, his tone revealing the tiniest shred of doubt.

  “That was before. Now that you’re trying to erase me from existence, I may rethink things.”

  Webber swallows and eyes me warily. Eventually, after letting several tense heartbeats go by, he says, “Fine. Whatever. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But I’m not getting knee deep in whatever overdramatized situation you think is happening here. It’s seven lives, Penn.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn’t care. But the way he stares at me says otherwise.

  “All life is precious. Why do you think I was banished because of one?”

  Just then, Michaela bursts into the room.

  “Penn. It’s Kismet.”

  19.

  Michaela huffs and puffs as if she ran across the entire heavens to get to us. “I found her in the prison of souls! We have to save her.”

  “The what?” I ask.

  Bending over, she braces herself on her knees, sending her blonde hair cascading on either side of her body. “The prison of souls,” she pants out. “It’s not supposed to exist, but someone’s opened it. And she’s trapped in there, along with Andrew and the other five. Penn. They didn’t go to heaven, where I left them. Someone’s kidnapped them in the worst possible way.”

  As she takes a deep breath, trying to slow her breathing, Michaela looks up at Webber. She shoots straight up. “Webber, I didn’t see you there.” Her tone is guarded.

  “He found me here. We have no choice but to trust him, and him us. As he has so kindly reminded me, I’m fallen and have nothing to lose. I could destroy him just as easily as he could destroy me.”

  Michaela looks between us, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. But I can’t tell which one of us has met with her disapproval, maybe both.

  She approaches the two of us, her frown still in its place. Her presence is suddenly not that of the welcoming, happy girl next door. She’s an intimidating and formidable woman. We both stood up when she ran into the room, but seeing her like this is enough to make us sink back into our stools. “Listen, you two. I’m about sick of the pissing contest between you. I’m only going to say this once, and I’m not pleased that I have to say it at all. Get over yourselves. This isn’t about you. This is about saving lives. Human lives. The lives that we’ve devoted the entirety of our existence to protect and care for.” She clenches her fists at her sides as she speaks. I have never even seen her mad, let alone this angry.

  I chance a glace at Webber, and he is totally cowed into submission, all but whimpering in his seat. Inwardly, I roll my eyes. Coward.

  “Webber, either come with us or don’t, but if I hear that you breathed a word about Penn to anyone at all, Penn won’t be the only one you need to fear.” Her blue eyes bore into him, and all he can do is nod.

  “Penn, let’s go.” But as she turns to leave, she spots someone in the doorway.

  Galenia stands there with an open mouth, tears pooling in her eyes. “Penn,” she breathes.

  The sight of her washes
over me like a warm breeze, and a smile tugs at my lips as I whisper her name. “Galenia.” She runs to my open arms, and we hold each other tight.

  “Well, this is a nice love fest,” Webber says, interrupting our moment.

  Galenia ignores him completely. “What are you doing here?” Fear clouds her joyful expression. “If they find you—”

  I cut her off. “It’s Kismet. She’s in trouble. And it’s not just her. There are others. Something is happening.”

  She frowns as she considers my words.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask her.

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  “From your quarters?” I ask.

  “No, I was out walking. I couldn’t sleep, and anyway, it’s nearly time to start the day. There’s a lot of uncertainty around here lately. It’s not something a Fate deals with real well,” she says as she looks at Webber. “As I’m sure you well know.”

  Webber seems to shrink back into his chair. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. I’m pretty sure Galenia is the only person Webber would ever willingly apologize to.

  “Horatia will want to help too.”

  “Too?” I ask. “No. I don’t want to get you involved. You don’t need to endanger yourselves.”

  “Penn,” Michaela says sternly, “we need all the help we can get.”

  I sigh and nod, giving Galenia the go ahead to retrieve Horatia.

  While we wait, I sort through my questions. “What is the prison of souls, Michaela?”

  “The humans refer to it as purgatory—a place where souls would go before their ultimate place in the heavens is decided. The problem was that they could stay there indefinitely. It was unnatural. A soul needs a home, a place, even if it’s hell. Plus, those who ran the prison were… unsavory. They tended to go outside their duties to punish the souls inside. So, centuries upon centuries ago, the prison was sealed, although many of the humans still thought it existed. To be trapped in there is a fate worse than death.”