“You’re insane,” I said.
He shook his head, as if surprised.
“Me? Look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into by always defying me. I offered you to be a god, to spin the destinies of others and give peace and joy to humanity. Yet you keep refusing, all because of your misguided belief in free will. Free will is dangerous. Free will is destructive. Free will has consequence, as you will now learn.”
He opened his scissors and ran the razor edge down the length of the thread. It hummed. Sang. Laila shuddered, grinding one hand into her temple and placing the other over her heart. It was as if she felt the cold of the steel herself.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked. Her body trembled with chill.
Fate tutted and shook his head.
“Poor dear!” he exclaimed. “Of course you wouldn’t know what all these awful sensations are. See this thread? This is your soul, your very life. I am giving your lover what he wants: a choice. If he refuses to do what I want, I will end you with a single, hard snip.”
Fate shot his gaze to me. Into me. It glittered with crazed victory, knowing he only had to squeeze to make me kneel.
“You either take the place prepared for you as the spinner of destiny, or I will cut her life’s thread, severing her very her soul. There will be no afterlife. No heaven. She will only be a tormented, drifting spirit, lost and wandering in terrified confusion between planes for all eternity. This is my bargain. Her soul, or your precious free will.”
Defeat ate at my heart. It clawed at my nerves and my spirit. For years I hid away, protecting myself from Fate with tarot cards and tea leaves. What did it matter? My cowardice of facing my fear now brought me a worse future than I ever imagined. What was worse, it caused Laila to be in mortal danger.
Fate was right in that respect. Free will had allowed me to play the fool and cause misery.
“Don’t do it!” Laila called. “I’m not worth losing so much.” She trembled, but bravery set in her features.
Fate’s scissors sprang open, and he dangled the glowing thread between the sharpened edges.
What else could I do? I only prayed my soul would be forgiven.
“I’ve not saved you to watch you die a worse death,” I told Laila.
Red rimmed her eyes and she shook her head.
“Do we have an accord, then?” Fate’s voice cut in.
I met his gaze. He stood still, waiting for the only answer he knew I could give.
“Damn you.”
Fate smiled and a chill rolled down my spine.
“I’m glad you’ve chosen to finally see reason.”
“As long as you don’t harm her.”
“That will remain totally dependent on you,” Fate responded. He lowered the scissors, but he placed her thread in a velvet pouch. He buried it in his pocket. “Incase you change your mind.”
The idea of him keeping her thread, even if only momentarily, drove me almost mad.
Magic released me and I regained my footing. I ran to Laila’s side and gathered her hands in my own. Their chill shocked me, I almost believed I touched a corpse. Then, I supposed she technically was without life. I rubbed them, trying to warm her blood. Rage I never knew boiled in my soul that she should endure such horrors.
My attention turned from Laila to Fate as he waved his arms and spoke in a harsh language. The same, rickety spinning wheel from Dream manifested before him.
Once the very sight of a spinning wheel brought a sense of calm to my life. It was where I could feed all my anger and frustration, letting the wheel spin and twist my emotions into the thread. It was freedom. Now, I would be its slave. I dreaded what the machine would take from me. From humanity.
“Go,” Fate command, pointing his scissors at the wheel. “I’ve waited a thousand years for this moment.”
I reluctantly stood and neared the giant wheel. It was archaic in design and function. There was no seat, no treadle. Only a large, sharpened spindle waiting to be filled with thread.
“A little old fashioned,” I mocked, giving the wheel a tumble. “What am I supposed to do with this rickety monstrosity?”
Fate approached and ran his hands down the spokes, smiling as if remembering good times gone by.
“You can’t imagine the lives this wheel has formed. Clotho used to stand where you are and spin kings or peasants in a turn or two,” he said. “True this wheel might be old, but for what you are about to do, there is none better.”
“So you keep saying.” I tapped my fingers against the pitted wood. “There’s one problem with your scheme. I don’t have any material to spin with.”
He sighed.
“Short sighted, as always.”
He gripped my left hand and pulled back my fingers. I tried to draw away, but his hold was like a vice, his fingers nearly crushing my hand. I gritted my teeth, not wanting him to see me flinch.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Providing you with what you need,” he responded. He lifted my finger to the spindle and pressed. The needle tore effortlessly into my fingertip, the sharp prick causing my body to cringe. “Now, spin the wheel and pull your finger slowly away. Very slowly. We don’t want any messes.”
His claws released my wrist.
Acquiescing his madness, I placed my right hand between the spokes and pushed them to go round. A deep and shaking whirr rolled in my ears. The spindle spun quickly, nearly rocking out of place.
I slowly pulled back my left hand, forcing myself to remain standing as an odd wave came over me. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be ill or elated. Every vessel, every heart beat, seemed to tug up from my toes and down from my head. It was as if my entire life force was pulling out of me.
I quickly saw the reason why.
As I drew my hand back, keeping a steady pace with my other hand in the wheel, a thin thread spun from my finger attached to the tip of the spindle. It glowed, the same as the white wisp Fate pulled from Laila.
“Pinch it between your fingers,” Fate commanded.
I did as he said, and the light flickered brighter. I moved my hand up and down, trying to keep the tension taught. The silver string whipped around the spindle, collecting a small amount of dimly glowing thread.
It flashed again. I pinched harder. The light flickered out completely.
“I don’t understand,” I said, giving the wheel another twirl.
Fate let out a frustrated breath.
“You are behaving like this is your average wheel,” he said. “This isn’t child’s play like spinning straw into gold. This is spinning destiny.”
“I know that. I’m not an idiot.” I cursed the gray thread between my fingers.
“Prove it. Make the thread come back to life,” he said. “Life is emotion. All emotion. Right now you are only angry. Anger gives nothing.”
He moved behind me. He pressed his firm body against me and traveled his arms down mine. He gripped my wrists. Controlling my right arm, he rotated it, and the wheel began to tumble again. The needle spun wildly.
“You have heard the cries of thousands of desperate souls. You have consumed their flames. The queen longing to bear a son. The mason struggling to provide for his starving children. You frantic to save the woman you love from eternal torment if you don’t succeed…These are the emotions of life. These are what make the thread burn.”
The wheel flew, the thread popping off the tip as it twisted up to my fingers.
“Push those voices into the thread,” he whispered into my ear, his voice electric.
I concentrated on those distraught flames I had quenched. They rose like ghosts out of my memory. Tones reverberated within my mind. People talking, people singing, shouting. Laila.
My heart pounded as the sensation of my very essence being pulled out of me began again.
The thread shimmered dimly. The wheel rattled.
“Good. Put some extra twist into it,” he said.
Euphoria overcame me as I warped
the thread. The flame grew brighter, and the voices heightened into a cacophony of humanity.
Back and forth we walked, my feet adding resistance to the thread. Step forward. Step sideways. Step back. Step. Step. Step. The clucking of the wheel was our music, and we danced as destinies whipped around the spindle.
When I used to spin as a child, feeding the wheel my anger, it was nothing compared to this. The heaviness of all those years were released in a moment. The thread winding back and forth on the spindle pulled it out of me heart and elevated my soul until I believed I would tap into untold power.
I was unstoppable. I could create souls as I wished and they would follow their life’s thread without burden of choice or consequence. They would be free from regret.
“Look.” Fate stopped the wheel.
The thread glowed hot. White light emanated from it and reflected prettily against my skin. Whispers breathed out of the string.
“It’s spectacular,” I said.
The string pulsed like a heartbeat. The low rumble of murmurs and mutterings sang, an entire life waiting to be born. The power was seductive. I understood what it meant to be a god, and I hated how I enjoyed the feeling.
“Perfect!” Fate exclaimed. He grabbed the thread from me and ran his fingers down the length, shuddering in delight. “Such purity. Such unwritten possibilities we can bend as we wish. Soon the world will be as it should.”
Taking out the scissors he ran it down the thread until he reached a point that brought a smile to his face. They rang out as he opened them. Carefully placing the glowing string between the two blades he cut. Hard.
The thread remained whole.
The pretty thoughts floating through my mind ended. Relief flooded over me seeing him fail. I couldn’t help a smile form on my lips.
“Performance issues?” I mocked. “Happens to everyone now and again.”
He shot me an annoyed look.
“It’s exactly as I expected,” he replied. “Would I make such a silly mistake? I told you. There must always be three to create destiny. I just wanted to give you a taste of what you were so abhorred to try.”
He looked at Laila. My blood went cold.
“Don’t touch her. You’ve caused enough suffering with your insanity,” I spat.
Fate laughed.
“As if you’ve done her any better,” he said. “You can’t honestly think she is the third we need? True, she has played a vital role, but she is quite useless besides motivating you. Her son, however…” he looked straight into Laila’s horror stricken face. “He is how we will get Lachesis’ replacement.”
I stiffened. Dread rushed through me. My insides twisted. Laila’s fears were true. Fate did plan something with Tristan. I couldn’t stand the thought of him becoming Fate’s pawn. I hadn’t kept him safe to see him fall into Fate’s madness as well.
“How can he be of any use to you?” I asked.
He turned away and paced.
“Edward was a fool, but in one thing he was right. Blood is powerful and Tristan’s is the key I require.”
My skin crawled at hearing Tristan’s name drop from his lips.
“Explain” I growled.
“There is a certain princess in a castle,” he responded blithely. “She is a perfect match to become our third sister. There is one tiny, itsy problem. In a final effort to thwart my plans, Clotho and Lachesis cursed her a millennia ago leaving her quite unavailable to me. Until now.”
“I still don’t see how this involves Tristan,” I said.
“I told you, he is the key. The only way to break the spell is with a kiss by a prince given birth by a woman who overcame an improbably obstacle. Such prince’s are in short supply, until you came along and set up a perfect union between Edward and Laila.”
“My God,” I breathed.
He turned and faced me.
“I didn’t give you my power to only enact your little revenge, but to help further provide me with the noble prince I needed. Two birds, one stone and all that. Thanks to you, you’ve kept him safe and reared him into the perfect specimen.”
I squared my jaw, hating Fate more than I ever had. I made it my life’s goal to protect Tristan. Now Fate made it clear Tristan was only a means to an end. As were we all. He didn’t deserve to be punished for the choices I and his mother made.
“No!” Laila screamed.
She tried to lunge at Fate, but Fate was too quick and squeezed the velvet satchel containing her thread. She became rigid and froze in place. He approached her, leaning in and breathing in at her neck.
“Funny how when greed bites us we don’t care about regret. We just think of the immediate. The now. Only after the wound starts to fester does remorse finally settle in. I can smell it on you, miller’s daughter,” Fate said to her. “You should have thought about Tristan before you accepted a stranger’s bargain. See, free will always leads to regret.”
My heart stopped. Fate was wrong.
Aldred once told me I ran from my destiny. I thought him a fool, but now I saw he was right. I ran from my destiny as I ran from love. I made horrible choices and hurt those I cared for because of them. But it wasn’t free will that lead to regret. It was cowardice.
I was done being a coward.
I would fight for those I loved.
“Let me get this straight.” I swallowed down my fear. “You need Tristan to retrieve your little princess because you can’t do it yourself. She is stuck wherever your sisters placed her, God only knows where.”
“That is correct.” His eyes narrowed.
“What rotten luck,” I said. “You’ve gambled all this on whether I decide to complete this errand of yours or not. You are utterly dependent on me. The problem is, I don’t know if I feel like going through all that trouble. The boy is quite irritating, and princesses fussy.”
His cheeks flushed red and his teeth ground together.
“Don’t play games with me,” he warned. “If you don’t do as I ask, I will damn Laila’s soul to wander eternally.”
He took out the thread and placed it against his scissors again.
Behind his gnashing teeth and murderous gaze, deep within his black soul ignited the smallest of flames. Fate grew desperate.
I smiled, hoping it would quell the terror filling my every muscle. Once this was done, there would be no turning back.
“No, you won’t. I hate to inform you, but you’ve played that card. The deal was already struck. I agreed to spin your thread in exchange for Laila’s safety, but this is an entirely new deal. I never agreed to get your princess.”
A flutter of shock filled Fate’s expression. His flame grew. Flared.
“You ungrateful…” he fumed.
I gave a tsk, and wagged my finger.
“We are long past insults. I propose we make a deal so we can move forward from this unfortunate impasse.”
“Leave it to you to sniff out a loophole,” he growled.
“It’s what I do,” I responded.
My heart raced and I hoped he didn’t see the sweat beading on my forehead.
Fate stared at me and bit his lip. He dropped his shoulders and finally put his scissors away. He coiled her thread back into the pouch and buried it within his pockets.
“What do you want?” he said.
“I will retrieve your princess, if you ensure that Tristan remains unharmed. That Laila is freed.”
“What do I get in return?”
I swallowed down my fear, trying to quell the sickening sensation in my stomach. My eyes flashed to Laila, seeing hers rimmed in red.
“What you want most of all. My absolute freedom. My soul.”
I offered all I had.
“I offer to make you my equal, and you ask to be my pet?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Fate laughed.
“This is beyond everything,” he said, still snickering. “You will be my slave, Rumpelstiltskin. You will give me everything. Your choice, your soul, your
hope. Do you really want to give me all this for a broken woman and a boy?”
“Is it a deal or not?”
He smiled.
“Only once every thousand years can our new age be activated at the Blood Moon of Phlegethon. I will not be made to wait another millennia. If you do not procure the princess by then, I will destroy all you love. I will sever Laila’s soul and disembowel Tristan at your feet.”
“It won’t come to that,” I said.
“I hope not. I hate when things have to get unnecessarily messy.”
He held out his perfectly manicured hand to me and terror chilled my blood. This was everything I had ever feared. Everything I had ever fought against. And now, I was willingly giving him everything of me.
“Rumpelstiltskin, no!” Laila cried. “Don’t do it.”
I tried to block out her cries.
You must know if this is the price you are willing to pay, your freedom, or hers. The oracle’s voice echoed in my memory.
This was the only way, and I only hoped Laila would understand. I would pay any price for her.
Pushing all thought out of my mind I clapped my hand into his. His fingers might have well been talons. They clawed into my skin, snapping my tendons. Fire doused my scar, and I thought it torn open afresh. Sensations of hot metal scrapped down the inside of my palm.
My mouth opened, and I let out a grunt of agony. For three seconds I was back in that gypsy camp, Fate standing over me carving through my skin and bone.
He let go, and I turned over my shaking hand. The scar was deeper. Grislier. Nothing but bits of sinew and ground meat.
“Deals such as ours must always go deeper than a few drops of blood on parchment,” Fate said, catching his breath. “Especially when literal souls are involved.”
I kept my gaze locked on Laila’s. Those tears I once told her not to shed now rolled in torrents down her reddened cheeks. Tears for me.
Fate grabbed Laila by the wrist, lifting her effortlessly. He threw her into my embrace. I held her tight, willing her chilled skin to warm against mine.
Twist: A Fairy Tale Awakening (Spindlewind Trilogy Book Two) Page 17
