The Gifts of Fate

by David T Myers

  “I assumed you’d grown up. Shilpy, it doesn’t have to be this way. I wasn’t lying when I said we wanted you back.”

  If Shilpy hadn’t been so terrified, she might have burst out laughing at the lie. She’d escaped the Keres Ter Nyx, the daughters of Nyx, the same night she’d completed the Ritual of Seers. The night her curse became known to the cult. The night Angela Wick, the cult’s leader, tried to kill her. She’d survived the struggle and fled, leaving Angela lying half-dead behind her.

  “You don’t need me back,” she said, stepping over several trinkets and moving towards the door. Madame Jessica blocked her.

  “The Keres Ter Nyx are at war,” the older woman replied.

  Shilpy wet her lips with her tongue. “That has nothing to do with me. I have a life now. A normal, boring, safe, ordinary life.”

  They circled each other around the room. Madame Jessica’s steps were slow and deliberate. Without warning, she advanced and threw a punch. Shilpy barely had time to avoid it. The woman was fast. Shilpy expected her to strike again, but Madame Jessica retreated and returned to circling the room.

  “Your sisters are dying. Children are dying. Our opponents summon nightmares using dark magic.”

  “Magic?” Shilpy scoffed. In the five years since fleeing the Keres Ter Nyx, she’d forgotten how crazy they sounded. But she couldn’t ignore the desperation in Madame Jessica’s voice.

  “I know how that sounds,” Madame Jessica said. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. Your mother and sisters need you.”

  “Angela Wick isn’t my mother.” Shilpy couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. “She and her predecessors took me from my real mother.”

  Madame Jessica shook her head. “Your real mother was unwell. We took you in when no one else would. We gave you a family. Adopted you into our sisterhood.”

  In one smooth movement, Madame Jessica seized a ceremonial dagger previously hidden behind some candles. The blade was slightly longer than a butcher’s knife and made of bronze. Not the toughest of metals, but sharp enough to draw blood, or kill if needed.

  Shilpy had been trained by Angela in basic hand-to-hand: karate and a little bit of kung fu. She knew enough to hold her own in a scrap, but she fared a lot better with a weapon and had a talent for fencing and swordsmanship. Sadly, the only weapon within reach was her half-empty handbag. She swung it around in a circle next to her body.

  “Sister—”

  “You aren’t my sister,” said Shilpy. “None of you are.”

  “What about Aaliyah? You were both born from the same woman.”

  Shilpy faltered. “Don’t bring her into this.” She locked her gaze on the blade and considered her options. Charging her opponent would probably lead to a stomach full of bronze. And attempting to make a dash for the door would leave her back exposed. She had to do something, otherwise Madame Jessica would wait her out. Shilpy had to assume that more sisters were on their way. If she was still here when they arrived, it would all be over.

  “Aaliyah misses you. She fights on the front lines. Will you abandon her too?”

  Shilpy frowned and tried to drown out the chatter and distractions. Wait. What’s that? Smoke.

  One of the candles had rolled along the floor and found a home next to the wall. A thin black wisp snaked its way up into the air from the singed edge of the tablecloth. The flame was still small and by no means a threat, but it gave Shilpy an idea.

  It didn’t take long for Madame Jessica to notice the smell. She wrinkled her nose and glanced from one side of the room to the other. Shilpy seized the moment of distraction. She backed into the wall and snatched one of the lit candles.

  Madame Jessica followed with a hesitant step. Her gaze fixed on the candle.

  “Aaliyah made her choice, and I made mine,” Shilpy said. “I won’t let you tear my life down and pull me away from the people I love. Not again.” She brushed the candle underneath the velvet drapes. Flames latched onto them and moved slowly up towards the roof.

  “You bitch!” The older woman leaped at Shilpy, who scrambled away, half expecting to be followed. But Madame Jessica pulled at the drapes while trying to avoid the flames creeping up their sides. She cried out in triumph when they finally tumbled to the ground. Using her foot, she nudged the burning cloth towards the centre of the room.

  The woman’s distraction had bought Shilpy a precious few seconds. Reaching the door, she grasped the doorknob with both hands and twisted it this way and that. It was locked.

  Sensing someone behind her, Shilpy spun. Madame Jessica lunged at her with the bronze blade. Shilpy ducked, narrowly avoiding having her throat slit. Madame Jessica’s foot connected with Shilpy’s side, but the younger woman quickly rolled out of the way.

  As the psychic closed the distance again, Shilpy swung her bag around. Madame Jessica avoided the blow without difficulty and spun on her feet before raising the blade again.

  It had been too long since Shilpy trained for a fight, let alone been in one. The muscle memory from countless hours of training was still there but felt sluggish, slow.

  Fortunately, what she lacked in recent training she compensated for with youth. Madame Jessica might be fast, but she was out of breath.

  Madame Jessica feinted a swipe with the blade, but Shilpy easily avoided it by retreating half a step. Her back was to the wall again, but not in a good way. Smoke filled the room, sending Madame Jessica into a coughing fit.

  The older woman charged, swinging the knife overhead wildly. Shilpy dodged, avoiding the blade as it sang through the air. Madame Jessica stabbed again, but Shilpy blocked the blow with her handbag and swept the older woman’s legs out from under her. The psychic toppled to the ground and landed heavily on the burning pile of material. The fire lacked any real heat but was hot enough to singe her clothes.

  Shilpy struck her across the jaw with her fist, and the dagger clattered away. Then she gripped Madame Jessica by the hair and rammed her head into the floor. At last, her body went limp.

  Shilpy rummaged through the woman’s clothes until she located the keys to the door. Less than a minute later, she dashed out of the shop and down the street with tears streaming down her face.

  When she reached the corner, she noticed a van turn into the opposite end of the street. It screeched to a halt in front of Madame Jessica’s shop. Shilpy slipped into a side street and took refuge in someone’s backyard. She hunted through her bag and retrieved her phone.

  Denise answered on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Denise.”

  “Hi, Shilps. Listen, I’m at work. I can’t—”

  “Denise, they found me.”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line. The silence went on so long that for a moment, Shilpy worried the call had been disconnected.

  “Where are you? I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 2

  Shilpy sprinted along the sidewalk. She had to get off the street. The sisters would see her for sure. She turned a corner and shot into a suburban area. To her right were four townhouses. Each connected to the next. On her left was a wooden fence, but the owners had allowed a hedge to grow over the top, making it impossible to climb.

  If only she could find a shop or something with a garden. Somewhere she could hide. The sisters were behind her. Had they seen her? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t dare look back. Where was Denise?

  Before running, Shilpy had spotted at least four women climbing out of the van in front of Madame Jessica’s, but it was hard to tell if the driver had been one of them. They would be looking and wouldn’t stop until they found her.

  She’d barely escaped Madame Jessica’s. And that had been a one-on-one fight with a woman twice her age. The four from the van would be young and well trained. If they caught up to her, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

  At last, she saw a home with a climbable fence. Shilpy ran as hard as she could and slammed her body against the planks. She glanced behind her
. The street was nearly empty. No sign of the Keres Ter Nyx.

  She lifted herself up. Her legs banged against the wood and she slid over, scraping her belly against the top. Wincing, she all but fell over into the backyard. She landed hard on a narrow concrete path separating the fence from the house. Shilpy rolled onto her back and stared up at the blue sky while trying to catch her breath.

  God, I hope these people don’t own a dog.

  If the Keres Ter Nyx managed to find her, Angela would either kill her or, worse, return her to the flats.

  She remembered the last time she’d been at the flats in vivid detail. The smell of burning canvas and flesh. Angela’s body, blackened and disfigured, twitching on the ground. The sweat tent in which they’d performed the ritual disappearing in flames.

  Shilpy had fled to the sound of Angela screaming. Screaming in agony, yes, but also in rage. Angela Wick wasn’t the kind to forget a slight, and Shilpy had nearly killed her. If she didn’t murder her on sight, then there would certainly be some sort of penance to be paid.

  And even if there was no punishment, her freedom and everything she’d built over the last few years, including her relationship with Dusk, would be stolen.

  They would put her at the centre of whatever strange war they were raging. It’s what they’d done to her mother and sister. They’d dictate how to dress, when to eat, when to bathe, when to sleep, and even whom to have sexual relations with. She would become a weapon to achieve the Keres Ter Nyx’s goals, and that would be the best she could hope for.

  Shilpy checked her phone. There was a message from Denise.

  Where are you?

  Using the location service on her mobile, she found the street she was on and texted the address to Denise.

  Nothing to do but wait.

  Expelled from the Keres Ter Nyx about eight years ago, Denise was like Shilpy, but without the accursed visions.

  The fact that she’d grown up in a cult wasn’t the sort of thing Shilpy could just tell people. Because Denise was someone else who’d been there, someone who’d lived through it, they had their own kind of sisterhood.

  A vehicle drove past on the other side of the fence. It could have been a car or a van. Shilpy hugged her knees to her chest and waited.

  Several agonising minutes later, her phone finally beeped. She jogged down the path to the gate, let herself out, and dashed to Denise’s small blue Toyota.

  “Quick,” Denise said. Shilpy dove into the back seat and slammed the door behind her.

  “I’m in.”

  Denise gunned the engine, and they took off. “They’re in a white van,” Shilpy said, ducking low until she was out of view.

  “I know. I saw them driving around a few streets back.”

  “Did they recognise you?”

  “They certainly took a good long look. How did they find you, Shilps?”

  Where to begin?

  Denise indicated and turned the car left. Shilpy slipped a seat belt on and tried to organise her thoughts. Denise was her best friend. The two women shared nearly everything: stories about their childhood, work, dreams, and relationships. Denise particularly enjoyed blow-by-blow descriptions of their sex lives, which was weird but fun.

  This, though—this Shilpy had been holding back from her.

  “I saw a psychic,” she said at last.

  “You did what?” Denise stiffened. The pitch of her voice rose. “You know the Keres Ter Nyx believe in all that crap. Half the charlatans in Sydney are probably sisters. Why would you do something so risky?”

  “I’ve been having dreams. No, not dreams. Visions of things that haven’t happened yet.”

  “You’ve seen the future in your sleep?” Denise turned away from the road and stared at her incredulously. Shilpy shuddered. It was that reaction, the look that Denise was giving her now, that she’d been trying to avoid. Still, she’d come this far. She might as well tell her everything.

  “Not just when I’m asleep.”

  “Holy shit,” Denise replied. The conversation paused for a moment as Denise turned the car onto the main road and weaved in and around a few cars. She stopped at a traffic light and leaned forward, scanning the road in front and behind her. “I think we lost them,” she said.

  “Thank God, and thank you.” With a sigh, Shilpy pulled herself back up and into a sitting position.

  “OK, I have to get my head around this. Visions. Like divine visions bestowed upon the blessed? You’re not saying you’re blessed, are you?”

  Blessed. A hateful word used to describe the highest among the Keres Ter Nyx. Those “lucky” men and women upon whom the gods and goddesses bestowed abilities. In Angela’s stories, Hercules, Fionn mac Cumhaill, the Pandava brothers, Achilles, Maui, and Calypso were among the blessed.

  “Maybe.” Shilpy shifted in her seat.

  “You’re having me on. The blessed are just stories. Like angels or vampires.”

  “My mother was Aanya Chopra,” Shilpy said.

  “Aanya . . . I remember reading about her.” Denise leaned back and whistled. “Wasn’t she—”

  “The one they called the oracle, yes.”

  Before being expelled from the Keres Ter Nyx, Denise had trained to be a scholar. Had she continued her studies, she might have become a teacher of the Keres Ter Nyx’s beliefs and dogma. Although she was younger than Shilpy had been when she left, she knew more about the family and their history than Shilpy.

  “So that story that the blessed could pass on their gifts through the bloodline . . .” Denise said.

  “They killed her,” Shilpy said.

  Denise gaped at her. “Are you sure?”

  “I can’t know for certain, but . . .” She didn’t know what else to say. Shilpy had hidden the curse from the world for so long she found it difficult to get the words out. Regular people would think she was crazy. Even Denise was looking at her with a degree of uncertainty.

  They both fell silent. The light changed and they slipped into the traffic. They drove for nearly fifteen minutes without a word. Finally, Denise pulled into a familiar street and found a parking spot a short distance from one of their favourite cafes.

  The Morning Brew’s lunchtime crowd was shuffling back to work. It was still busy, but Shilpy and Denise found a table outside, next to a narrow street. They ordered and were served shortly after.

  Shilpy’s hands shook, causing a small amount of coffee to spill from the mug onto the saucer before she could take her first sip. The cafe was far from Balmain and Madame Jessica. Still, Shilpy felt exposed, and would rather have been sitting inside.

  Between the surrounding patrons and the noise from passing cars, they had to raise their voices to hear each other.

  “The Ritual of Seers didn’t actually give you visions, did it?” Denise asked.

  Shilpy shook her head. “My visions started several years before the ritual. Ma told me to keep what I saw secret from everyone. I didn’t even tell Aaliyah.”

  “What sort of things did you . . . sorry, do you see?”

  “Most of my visions are pretty mundane. Day-to-day stuff. Except . . .”

  “Except what?”

  “During the Ritual of Seers, I saw something . . . different.”

  “Different, how?”

  “Just, different.” Shilpy watched the cars driving past. When she thought back to that night, sometimes she wasn’t sure what it was she’d seen. She’d never felt comfortable talking about what she didn’t understand. “Some days it’s difficult to tell the past from the future. My memories become a muddle, mixed up with other things. My visions disappeared several years ago, but a month back they returned. Ever since then, I’ve felt like I’m walking through fog.”

  “Shilps.” Denise took her hand. “You should have told me.” Shilpy couldn’t meet her friend’s eye. She could feel Denise watching her. “Did you find out anything useful from Madame Jessica after all that?” her friend asked.

  Shilpy snorted. “No.” Then sh
e frowned. “Although, Madame Jessica said the Keres Ter Nyx are at war.”

  “War?” Denise frowned. “With who?”

  “I don’t know. She said they needed me to help fight.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I don’t intend to. They can all rot as far as I’m concerned. Their war has nothing to do with me. I have my own life now. It’s just . . . Madame Jessica said something weird—”

  “Weird, like more weird than you being blessed and the Keres Ter Nyx at war?”

  Shilpy searched for the right words, but there were none. There was no way of sugar-coating the message. No way of making it sound not crazy.

  “She said their enemies had killed a lot of our sisters using dark magic.”

  “Magic?”

  “Crazy, huh.”

  “Maybe. Remember, I didn’t think seers were real until an hour ago.” Denise pulled at the blue jewels hanging from her ears. Shilpy knew that look, and her friend, well enough to guess what she was thinking about.

  “I’m sure Sarah is alright.”

  Denise nodded, but her face remained grim. Sarah was Denise’s real sister, and like Shilpy’s sister, she hadn’t escaped the cult. She remained a true believer and hadn’t spoken with Denise since her exile.

  “You could try calling her,” Shilpy suggested.

  “Sarah wouldn’t answer. She never does. Belief trumps blood when it comes to sisterhood, I guess.” Denise tossed her head and took a deep breath, composing herself. “This is about you, not her. You were saying you visited these psychics to discover a cure.”

  “A way of controlling it.”

  “Controlling it?”

  “I’m tired of having visions at all hours of the day and night. I just . . .” Shilpy sighed. “I just want to be normal.”

  “Too late,” Denise said with a chuckle. “Listen, even if you locate someone with the same powers as you, what makes you think they can cure you?”

  “I have to try.”

  Denise’s face twisted into a reproachful look. “Try somewhere else, try something else, unless you want the Keres Ter Nyx to lock you up. Even if you’re right, they’ll be looking for you now. This morning was too close a call. You can’t play hide-and-sneak forever.”