The Gifts of Fate

by David T Myers

  Shilpy hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth gently, doubting that she’d ever feel safe again.

  When the familiar rush came, she didn’t fight it but let it snatch her mind away to whatever the Moirai wanted to show her next. It no longer mattered. She deserved whatever was coming to her.

  Chapter 13

  The cold air sucked all the heat from her body. Shilpy’s skin felt like ice, and it chilled the muscles, flesh, and blood beneath. She felt as though she’d woken up inside a dead body. The world seemed far away.

  In every other vision, the green mist had surrounded her. This time, it floated overhead. It appeared thinner, and she could see through it. What she saw was terrifying.

  The sky was gone, replaced with a stone ceiling. A giant stalactite stabbed downward directly above her head. Although it was probably miles away, it was almost impossible to tear her eyes away from it.

  Shilpy’s heart raced, and each breath escaped in short, sharp rasps, creating wisps of steam. She blinked, trying to focus on the road and ignore the feeling that the stone ceiling was going to come crashing down at any moment.

  Of course, the stalactite wasn’t alone. Countless more stretched for miles and miles, from one horizon to the next. The sight left her weak at the knees. Against such a thing she was less than an ant. Insignificant, regardless of what she said, did, or achieved in life.

  Lights flashed intermittently in the eerie green fog, like lightning within a thundercloud. It took a few seconds to make sense of her surroundings, but then she realised she stood on George Street in the centre of Sydney. Despite the familiar setting, the strange light and the roof above made everything appear alien.

  Shilpy’s gaze flicked from the road to the random flashes of light within the mist. A single bright speck moved with purpose in the electrical storm. The approaching light pulsed, like a heartbeat. It was watching her. Then it turned and moved down George Street. Shilpy took a hesitant step after it. It darted further forward, beckoning her to follow it. So she did.

  The light led her down the hill past empty buildings, shop fronts, parked cars, and the occasional vehicle in the middle of the road. The world around her was silent. Each footstep echoed off the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers. The only other sound was the distant cracking of rock on rock in the sky ceiling hanging above.

  This felt so different from her other visions. She instinctively knew that all the visions had been leading her here. Even the one she’d experienced in the Ritual of Seers with Angela.

  The hard concrete beneath her feet felt real, as did the mist around her. She felt clear-headed. Each thought was sharp and alert, and the memory of one moment didn’t fade into the next. Still, who knew what was real anymore?

  Perhaps the incident at the apartment with Dusk hadn’t happened. For a moment, she almost hoped that she’d hallucinated it, but something inside her knew the truth. That had felt more real than this.

  That was as real as it gets.

  It was hard for Shilpy to tell how long she followed the light. She walked until her feet hurt. Then she walked some more. The cityscape changed around her, but in some ways, it felt as if she hadn’t moved at all.

  Eventually, she spotted the three feminine figures. They stood in the centre of an intersection, surrounded by unmoving cars.

  The Moirai toiled away on their tapestry—the first spun the thread, the second wove it up into the mist, and the third severed the string. Each movement was fluid and graceful, like a perfectly synchronised dance.

  Without stopping what they were doing, the Moirai watched Shilpy approach. She paused a short distance away. “You have come at last.” They spoke as one.

  Shilpy nodded, looking from one to the other, trying to make out their faces within the shadows of their hoods. The three shrouded figures stared at her, and it was like being weighed down by a physical force. Whatever happened next, it wasn’t going to end well.

  The crone caught Shilpy’s eye and pulled a silver thread down from the mist. Shilpy’s eyes narrowed. The thread seemed familiar, eerily so, and it was far shorter than any of the previous threads the Moirai had woven. Somehow, Shilpy knew it was hers.

  “You recognise your own fate,” the old woman croaked. This is good.”

  Shilpy swallowed. The implications of the words hit her like a physical blow. The words It’s so short! It’s so short! repeated in her head like a mantra.

  The Moirai watched her. “Have you brought me here to die?” she asked, each word catching in her throat.

  For a long and terrible moment, the Moirai didn’t answer. Then, together they shook their heads. Shilpy exhaled, not realising she’d been holding her breath. Why then was she here? Why show it to her?

  “How much time do I have left?” she all but whispered.

  “Not enough.”

  “To do what?”

  “You must return to your world with our gift, the Star of Fate. You must deliver the Star of Fate to our chosen.”

  Shilpy stared at the goddesses. That was it? Deliver a ball to someone else? That was her entire life’s purpose?

  Well, if that’s how fate rolls, then colour me unimpressed.

  They’d cursed her with these visions, summoned her to this strange underground world, told her she would die soon, and then given her a quest. Not exactly carrot and stick. Then she blinked.

  Chosen?

  “Your chosen? But I’m the one who’s blessed.”

  “You must deliver the Star of Fate to our chosen.”

  Shilpy stepped forward. “Does this have something to do with the Day of Announcement?”

  “What is that?” they asked in unison. Shilpy shut her eyes. She’d thought that . . . What fools they all were. Both The Keres Ter Nyx and the Erisians all believed that the Day of Announcement would be their salvation. The gods didn’t care.

  “Find someone else,” she said.

  “There is no one. You alone were blessed with your visions so that we might bring you here. The Star can gift you with a new life.”

  Ah, there was the carrot.

  Okay, so this ball might extend her life, but for how long, and so she could do what? Also, there had to be a catch.

  “I’m quite happy with the life I have. What will your chosen do with it?”

  The Moirai didn’t exchange looks or chatter between themselves. They were aligned with a single purpose and mind. It was difficult to stand her ground against that.

  “They will do what must be done.”

  “What happens to me once it’s delivered?”

  The middle-aged goddess broke rank and stepped forward. From within her robes, she produced a crystal ball, and then she offered it to Shilpy.

  Soft green light, the same colour as the mist floating above, bathed the street and surrounding cars. Shilpy immediately recognised the ball from her visions. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the Star of Fate.

  “We are trying to help you,” the goddess said.

  “No, I think you’re helping yourselves,” Shilpy said, through clenched teeth. “You don’t want to save my life. You want me to do what I’m told, to fulfil my fate for reasons that you won’t even tell me.”

  The goddess didn’t react. Her face was like stone. Again, silence descended. No one seemed willing to speak first. Shilpy shifted defiantly from one foot to the other.

  “She is lost to us,” the crone said at last, in a voice as dry as sandpaper.

  “We cannot allow the shadows to win,” the middle-aged goddess replied.

  Shilpy’s ears pricked up. Shadows? So, this had something to do with the shadows, then? Unless they were just telling her what she wanted to hear. Regardless, her curiosity had been piqued.

  “You know about the shadows in my vision, don’t you?” she said, eyeing the Moirai suspiciously.

  The middle-aged goddess frowned, her first emotional display of any kind. Her eyes narrowed, and then she nodded. “Left unchecked they wil
l kill, injure, or corrupt anything they touch.”

  “It looked like the shadows in my vision were killing Dusk.”

  “Worse. Eris’s shadows seek to take advantage of the upcoming war between the Keres Ter Nyx and the Erisians. They will consume many souls before their lives end.” The goddess looked up. “With each fate consumed, the shadows will damage the tapestry of fate more and more.”

  Shilpy frowned. Eris’s shadows? The shadows belonged to the goddess of discord.

  “What happens if the tapestry is damaged?”

  “It will have a cascading effect. Thousands of people will fall into a coma from which they will never wake. The next week, hundreds of thousands will follow, and then millions. Not dead, but their lives will be finished,” the goddesses said in unison.

  “Why can’t you stop her?” Shilpy asked.

  “We are agents of fate, goddesses of order. We cannot directly intervene or command Eris to stop. We do not understand her purpose, but her creatures steal life from people, the women of the Keres Ter Nyx, before their time. We must restore order.”

  So, what, the Keres Ter Nyx were the good guys in this? Was this really true? The Moirai could have sent those dreams to Shilpy to prime her. So that when this moment came, she might be more inclined to believe them. Angela had been like that. She would seed an idea and let it grow before asking something of others. Get them to do her dirty work while her hands remained clean.

  “You don’t trust us,” the Moirai said in one voice. Shilpy gasped. Could they read minds? “We did not bring you here to end your life or lead you to your fatal event.”

  “How can I know that’s true?”

  “Do you believe us when we say we need you?”

  Shilpy looked at each goddess in turn. Their cold and impassive faces stared back. After a moment she nodded.

  The middle-aged goddess inched forward, once again offering the crystal ball.

  “You will die if you do not take this.”

  Shilpy choked back a laugh. “You only want me alive long enough to deliver your present. Don’t pretend that you care if I live or die.”

  The crone cackled. “I like this one. She knows her place.”

  “Sister,” the youngest goddess said, chidingly.

  “All men and women must die,” the crone said. “We are the water that fills the cup. We are not here to stop death, but to protect all that happens before it. You can help us protect those who will be consumed if Eris is victorious. That is all.”

  Shilpy shuddered, remembering Dusk kneeling in her vision. The shadows had consumed him until his eyes went black. She felt cold and tired.

  “While my sister speaks the truth, we can give you more time within the mortal coil,” the youngest goddess said. “A new life.”

  “We want to stop the war that will disrupt the tapestry,” the middle-aged goddess added.

  “You want me to fight in your war?” Shilpy asked uncertainly.

  “No, but you will have a role to play in finishing it. We are unable to tell you more than that.”

  Shilpy considered it all and felt strangely satisfied. “Do I have to work with Angela Wick in this war?”

  She held her breath and then exhaled deeply when the goddess said no. Shilpy had expected the Moirai to oppose the Erisians, but she wouldn’t align herself with Angela. She didn’t want to extend her life only to have to return to the Keres Ter Nyx. Of course, not aligning herself with either group meant going against both.

  “What about Dusk?”

  “What about him?”

  “Can he be saved?”

  “The Star of Fate could change his fate and yours, but it is not a tool for saving people.”

  Shilpy didn’t move, and the image of Dusk standing over Anderson flashed through her head. Her eyes flickered to the Star. The Moirai had already written him off, but maybe if she had the Star she could save him. He wanted to leave this life behind him.

  She couldn’t ignore what he’d done, but it had been in self-defence, hadn’t it?

  If it was self-defence, why not call the police?

  Maybe he couldn’t because of what he did in Africa.

  Or maybe he couldn’t because of what he did in Australia.

  Could she keep loving someone like that? Even if she did it, if she changed him, would he still be hers? Despite what the goddesses said, she might rescue him from the shadows only to lose him forever.

  Or perhaps this was all some bad dream, in which case it didn’t matter.

  Shilpy nodded to the Moirai and took the Star from the goddess.

  “Be warned,” they said, stopping her in her tracks. “The Star will extend your life, but there will be a price. Protect our gift until it is time.”

  * * *

  Daylight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust mites dancing in the air. Shilpy’s shoulder and neck were stiff from sleeping on the couch. Wallowing in the pain, she reflected on the details of the strange dream.

  It took a few moments to notice the round and hard object tangled in the sheets. Shilpy shrieked and leaped away from the couch dressed only in her underwear and a T-shirt. The crystal ball rolled away from the bedding and hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud. A soft green glow illuminated the room. The lights and shapes moving inside the ball drew her eye with hypnotic force.

  Denise and Thomas burst from the bedroom a moment later. They froze on the spot. The sphere rolled to a stop beside the television.

  Was she still dreaming? Was this still part of the vision or was it happening?

  Shilpy stumbled away until her back pressed against the wall. A soft moan escaped her lips. If the Star of Fate was real, if it existed, then the rest of the vision was real—the goddesses, the shadows, Dusk’s ultimate fate and hers. All of it.

  Someone started laughing. It was an unnerving, high-pitched titter which approached insanity. Thomas and Denise stared at her in shock, and it was then she realised that the laughter was hers.

  “Shilps, what’s going on?” Denise asked. “What is this?”

  Thomas stepped forward and reached for the ball.

  “Stop! Don’t touch that.” Thomas paused his fingers lingering over the Star. He took an involuntary step backward. His gaze darted from her to the Star. “I . . . I think it’s the Star of Fate.”

  “The wha . . . ?” Thomas looked at her stupidly.

  “The Star of Fate?” Denise frowned. “The fate changer?”

  “The what changer?” Thomas asked, his face blank. Shilpy exchanged a look with Denise and nodded.

  “The stories say that a young baker touched the Star of Fate and it gave him the life of a king,” Denise said. “Made him someone else entirely.”

  “Really?” Thomas sounded almost excited.

  Denise ignored him and addressed Shilpy. “It can’t be real. Where did you get it?”

  Shilpy trembled. “In a dream.”

  “What do you mean ‘in a dream’?”

  “The Moirai gave it to me. In my dream, or vision, last night. At least I thought it was a vision. This has never happened before. Everything I saw, it was real. I was there. How is that possible?”

  Looking concerned, Denise crossed the room towards Shilpy. “Why don’t you—”

  But Thomas was reaching for the ball again.

  “Thomas, no!” Shilpy screamed, a fraction of a second too late. Shilpy had witnessed countless dreams and visions, but not this. Never this. If this had been a vision, she would have stopped it. Instead, she stood with her mouth open like an idiot and watched helplessly.

  Thomas’ head snapped back when his fingers touched the Star. Every muscle in his body spasmed. His pupils rolled back until only the whites of his eyes were showing. Then, like ink dropped into a pool of milk, green fog billowed through his orbs.

  Denise screamed and ran to his side looking uncertainly from the Star to Thomas and back again. Shilpy couldn’t let her touch it. If she interrupted whatever the Star was doing, it c
ould cause more harm than good, or worse—it could affect her, too.

  Shilpy grabbed Denise’s waist and pulled her back. Denise’s elbow flew back and hit her in the lip, but Shilpy didn’t let go. “Tom!” Denise screamed, and elbowed Shilpy again, this time in the forehead.

  Disorientated, she stumbled backward and lost her grip on Denise, who slipped forward before Shilpy could stop her. But it was all over. Thomas crashed to the ground, striking his head on the nearby coffee table. The Star fell limply back to the carpet.

  Shilpy’s ears were ringing and her face hurt, but she was more concerned about Thomas. She joined Denise.

  He was still breathing. A small gash painted a red streak across his head. The whites of his eyes had cleared, but his pupils were still rolled back. Denise shook him over and over, shouting his name, but he didn’t move.

  Then Denise spun on the spot and grabbed Shilpy in a chokehold. Her eyes burned into Shilpy’s, and her upper lip curled into a sneer. “What did you bring into my home?”

  “I thought it was a vision,” Shilpy rasped. Denise tightened her hold, her face mere centimetres from Shilpy’s. She felt giddy from the lack of oxygen but didn’t fight back. As the last of her air expired, Shilpy dug her nails into the palms of her hand until she thought she’d drawn blood. Black flecks danced across her eyes. Then Denise let her go. Shilpy stumbled back rubbing her throat.

  Denise stood on the spot panting. Her brows creased in thought.

  “Denise?” Shilpy asked, and winced. The word felt like sandpaper rubbing her throat. Her friend stood on the spot, as if she hadn’t heard. Behind her, red was staining the carpet where Thomas lay.

  Shilpy pushed past her and checked on him. The blood from his forehead was hardly a torrent, but it wasn’t a trickle either. “He’s bleeding pretty bad,” Shilpy said, her voice coming a little stronger despite the pain.

  Denise wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on the green ball lying on the carpet.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. We need to call for help,” Shilpy insisted.

  At last, Denise snapped out of it. She nodded, disappeared into her room, and returned with a phone. She dialled a number quickly and paced back and forth, her eyes on Thomas while she waited for an answer.