The Gifts of Fate

by David T Myers

  With his arms pinned, she managed to get her left foot onto his hip and pushed hard. She slid back across the pavement and away from him. Hond, his body extended, tried to come back in. She pushed him back with her legs, maintaining distance and control of the fight.

  With no other choice, Hond pulled away. Shilpy let go of his opposing wrist and scissored her hands to try and grab his matching wrists. Her hand caught his left wrist but missed the right. Shilpy didn’t wait. He was wide open and unable to defend himself when her legs started moving. She kicked him in the crotch, followed up into his solar plexus, took him in the chin, and finally and deliberately went for his wounded shoulder.

  Hond didn’t even scream. He went down with a whimper.

  Shilpy rolled to her feet and staggered away from him. For a moment she thought he was going to get up again, but he stayed down. The slap across the cheek had left her a bit disoriented, and she swayed to and fro, trying to put some distance between her and her opponent.

  Where was the Star?

  There, in the gutter. They must have knocked it away while wrestling.

  Dusk was lathered in sweat, and Wolf stood between him and the Star. Wolf advanced, and Dusk took a few steps back, but then two shapes leaped into the light and latched onto Wolf.

  No. The monsters that had charged off after the police. They hadn’t been trapped in the Star like the others, and now they were back. Wolf struggled to fend them off. He was distracted.

  Shilpy’s eyes darted from the Star to Dusk and back again. Dusk’s eyes were on hers, but then he glanced down at the Star, which had lost its green glow and now radiated blackness.

  If he picked it up, it would destroy who he was. She couldn’t let that happen. Dusk started running. He was running towards the Star. Shilpy, still a little unsteady on her feet, stumbled across the road towards it. Dusk was faster, but she was closer.

  The life of whoever got to it first, whoever picked it up, would be changed forever, consumed by the shadows within. If she beat him . . . well, she was going to die soon anyway.

  The closer Shilpy got to the Star, the surer-footed she became. Dusk’s feet pounded on the road, and he was closing the distance faster than she was.

  They reached the Star of Fate at more or less the same moment. Dusk reached down, ready to scoop it up like a rugby ball, but Shilpy kicked it—hard. Pain travelled like a shock wave up her leg, which almost collapsed under her when she returned to both feet.

  The Star flew into the air, and Dusk instinctively caught it with his right hand.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Police sirens, lots of them, had started up again, and were getting closer.

  Wolf, having destroyed the shadow dogs, raced towards them both, his sword ready to hack through his enemies.

  Then Dusk grabbed the Star of Fate with both hands. His head shot back, and his eyes went wide. His screams echoed up and down the street, competing with the approaching sirens.

  Darkness exploded from his body, knocking Wolf and Shilpy off their feet. Wolf fell into a nearby letter box. Shilpy was spun around and landed on a parked car.

  She shook her head and slid to the ground. There was a ringing in her ears, and flashes of light danced across her vision. She felt a surge that was familiar but also different somehow. The vision felt more fragmented and not quite complete. The world fell silent and all she could hear was what was in front of her.

  The black surrounding Dusk shifted and spun into a mini tornado. It swept up the surrounding shadows. Streetlights up and down the road shattered in a series of small explosions.

  Something moved within the darkness, and it took shape. The whirlwind disappeared, replaced by a figure. Thomas stood over Dusk.

  For a moment, Shilpy felt a surge of hope, but then she saw that his eyes were filled with same inky blackness he’d just emerged from. Thomas’s right hand snapped out and wrapped around Dusk’s throat. His mouth twisted into something between a sneer and a snarl.

  Then Thomas grimaced and shuddered violently, like a vengeful ghost from a Japanese horror movie. Darkness spewed from his eyes and mouth before wrapping around his body like a cloak. When it cleared, the harpy goddess, Eris, stood in his place.

  Eris grasped Dusk’s head with two clawed hands and lowered her mouth to his. She flickered for a moment, taking on Thomas’s form, but then flashed back again.

  Wide-eyed, Dusk struggled as Eris kissed him, but she held him in place. The whites of his eyes turned black, as Thomas’s had been, and then his pupils disappeared as well. Dusk stopped fighting and lost himself in the kiss.

  Finally, Eris released her grip and broke away from him. He slumped back onto his knees.

  “Arise, my child, my son, my heir. Arise and serve discord.” Eris’s screeching voice tore at Shilpy’s ears.

  Dusk nodded, and with violent and jerky movements, he climbed to his feet.

  The rushing sensation ended, and the world with all its sirens and shouting crashed back in. Eris disappeared. Shilpy stumbled, half walking, half crawling, onto the road.

  “Dusk?” she called out.

  He stood staring into space. A series of emotions crossed his face.

  Wolf also found his feet again. Armed with the sword, he raced towards Dusk. He raised the weapon over his head and swung down. Dusk casually stepped to the side, avoided the sword, and then slapped the boxer across the face with the back of his hand. Wolf flew off the ground and over ten metres through the air before crashing onto the hood of a car.

  Dusk smiled and stared at his hand. The ball fell onto the road and, after a shallow bounce, rolled under a nearby car.

  Shilpy stared incredulously at Wolf’s now-still form. That was impossible. Like something out of a comic book. When she turned back, Dusk was looking at her, not saying a word.

  He looked harder somehow, less kind. His eyes, no longer black, were just a little too wide, as if he’d gone mad.

  There was no one left. Just the two of them. Hond, Wolf, and Terry were all on the ground. The shadowpack was gone, and the Keres Ter Nyx had either fled or were dead.

  “We win,” he said, without emotion.

  We? Shilpy shook her head, feeling as though she might vomit. “You killed all those people.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “We shouldn’t have let them run loose like that. It’s regrettable.”

  She stared at him hard. Regrettable? Hearing him admit to it, own what he’d done, was chilling. He had to have known what the shadowpack might do, yet he’d let it loose anyway.

  “Hond was right. I don’t know you.”

  “You were hardly forthcoming about your past.”

  She couldn’t help herself—she slapped him across the cheek. He raised his hand. Given how far he’d sent Wolf flying, he could very well break her neck. Shilpy braced herself.

  His lip twitched for a moment, but then he lowered his hand and ran his fingers across his cheek where she’d slapped him.

  “I lied to you because I wanted nothing to do with this world, these people, and their fighting,” Shilpy said. “I just wanted to be normal. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “Neither did I. People have manipulated me all my life. They turned me into a monster. The more I try and dig myself out, the deeper the hole becomes. Violence is the only language these people understand. I won’t let them control me again.”

  Shilpy shook her head. He was insane. Maybe he’d always been insane. Maybe the Star had made him this way.

  “I feel her inside me now,” Dusk said. “Helping me to reach my full potential. The ultimate warrior. A leader for my goddess.”

  Shilpy wiped a tear away. “You could have been so much more.”

  Dusk laughed a soft, bitter laugh and turned away. He walked to Wolf and picked up the sword. Police sirens were nearly on top of them. “It’s time to go.”

  “I’m not coming with you.”

  He nodded but didn’t turn. “Perhaps that’s for the best.” He moved to Hond, pic
ked him up, and put him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  Was this it then? Was there nothing else to be said? “I can’t be around this sort of violence,” she called after him.

  “Goodbye, Shilpy,” he shouted back.

  He was halfway down the road when she called out to him for the final time. “Dusk!” He turned. “Did you ever even love me?”

  Dusk flinched. His mouth opened, and he looked as if he might say something. Then he shut it again, turned, and walked away, barely slowed under Hond’s weight. The street felt a little bit darker.

  Chapter 17

  Shilpy and Wolf caught several trains and lost themselves in the city. Wolf was out of it. Sometimes he leaned on her for support, other times he followed obediently. At one point she had to take him by the hand. His face had gone an ugly dark purple where Dusk struck him. He drifted in and out of sleep between stops, but Shilpy wasn’t going anywhere in particular, so she let him sleep.

  At one point he woke and seized Shilpy’s hand. His voice was weak, but when she put her ear to his swollen lips, she could just make out his words. “Why help me?”

  Shilpy didn’t answer him. She wasn’t even sure herself. Maybe to curry favour and find allies in her fight against Eris’s shadows. Maybe because it was the right thing to do.

  Wolf was hurt, but not critically injured. When she was sure they were safe, she slipped away. She didn’t notice which station she’d gotten off at.

  She tried contacting Denise. The call went through to her friend’s voicemail. Shilpy told the machine what she’d seen, and that she didn’t think Thomas was coming back. She apologised and hung up.

  Bruised and in pain, she wandered the streets until she found a small bar. It was empty except for two young guys sitting at a table talking about computers. The barmaid served her water, but Shilpy could see from the woman’s impatient looks that she wanted her to either buy a real drink or get out. She probably thought Shilpy was homeless, which she supposed she was.

  The bruises on her face and neck couldn’t be leaving a good impression. They had subsided somewhat, and felt less painful. Was this even the same night she’d run from Dusk? Had a few hours passed? Or had she been on the run for days? Who knew when her last meal had been.

  The round crystal ball rested against her hip inside its bag. Dusk had left it behind. Whether intentionally or not she didn’t know. It was all she had left. She drank the water, trying to ignore the incessant pain in her stomach.

  She felt drained, as if she’d been crying for a long time. Which seemed likely. Had she been weeping over Dusk and the death of their relationship, or her failure to support her best friend? She couldn’t remember. Whichever it had been, it had left her numb.

  One of the guys from the table behind her slipped up to the bar. He ordered some wedges and another two drinks and waited for the woman to return with change.

  He was short with curly hair and slightly overweight but not unattractive. Their eyes met and he flashed her a smile, but she could see him staring at her bruises. He probably thought she was freak. She probably was. Once he had his change, he returned to his table.

  She focused on her water and didn’t notice the person taking a seat next to her until she spoke. “Hello, Shilpy Chopra.”

  Defeated and exhausted, Shilpy turned to the woman and sighed heavily. It was the youngest of the Moirai. “Hello. Is it my time?”

  “If it were, then Atropos would be sitting here, not me.”

  Ah yes, Atropos was the goddess who determined the moment and circumstances of death, the crone. It was coming back to her now.

  “Is this a vision?”

  The young goddess glanced around the room and pursed her lips. “Yes, I suppose it is, in a way. You are here, but the people in this pub cannot see me.”

  Shilpy nodded.

  “We noticed you have not used the Star yet.”

  Shilpy ran her hand over the hard surface within her bag. She’d been avoiding thinking about using the Star for herself. She had been working so hard just to survive and escape.

  She couldn’t go back to her job, to Dusk, to her home, or to her friends for fear that someone might be waiting. There was nowhere left for her to go, no one left to turn to. She had literally lost everything.

  “If you use the Star, you can have any life you want.” The goddess said. “A home to go to, food to eat, you could find love, success, and money, and could probably stave off death until you are old, and grey. You would have your normal life.”

  A normal life. The thing she’d always dreamed of.

  “Your time is not here yet, but Lachesis is working hard. Atropos grows impatient. If you do it, it must be soon. Remember, we are at war with Eris’s shadows.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  The goddess leaned back in her chair and looked Shilpy up and down. It was strange. Away from her own realm and sisters, she appeared more expressive. Almost human. Almost.

  Right now, she looked uncertain. Given that she was a goddess of fate, a creature that defined who and what would happen to every person ever born, Shilpy found this irrationally satisfying.

  “Meaning what?” she asked Shilpy.

  Shilpy chuckled bitterly. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my job. I can’t un-see what I’ve seen. I can’t pretend that this is someone else’s problem, or that it has nothing to do with me. The shadows . . .” She took a deep breath, and her hand tightened around the ball. “If I can get this to someone who will stop them, someone who will make sure that what happened in Newtown never happens again then . . .” She trailed off.

  “Will you use the Star?” Clotho asked. “To extend your life.”

  Shilpy sniffed. The barmaid returned from the kitchen with the plate of wedges and two small bowls of dip—sour cream and sweet chilli. She left the food on a serving tray on the bar and called out to the man.

  Damn those wedges smelled good. Shilpy’s stomach rumbled in protest, but she tore her eyes away and forced herself to stare at the water. “I’ve seen how your gift works,” she said softly, almost muttering, so as not to draw too much attention to herself. “I’ve seen the price it requires. I’d be no better than Hond.”

  Clotho sighed in exasperation. “Without the Star—”

  “Without the Star, you’ll have to work that little bit harder to make sure I succeed.” Shilpy stared Clotho down. “You and Lachesis need to keep Atropos away from me until I get the Star where you need it to be.”

  “Our chosen are not ready.” The goddess replied.

  Shilpy shrugged. Clotho drew herself up to her full height, and her brows deepened into a frown. The very air around them seemed to shift and press down on Shilpy. “Very well. If you insist on being stubborn—” the goddess said.

  The curly-haired fellow returned to the bar to pick up his wedges. Again, their eyes met.

  “You look like you haven’t eaten in a while,” he said. Shilpy almost jumped in her seat. He was talking to her. Here she was, at a bar alone with a glass of water, no idea when she’d last eaten, bathed, or changed clothes, muttering to herself, and he was talking to her.

  She shook her head but didn’t reply.

  “We’re not going to eat all these. Care to join us?”

  “I shouldn’t,” Shilpy said, eyeing the barmaid.

  “We insist.”

  Shilpy turned and looked up at Clotho.

  “We’ll have to be a little more heavy-handed with your destiny than we might otherwise like,” the goddess said. “We accept your deal, blessed one. Until you complete your purpose, we will do what we can to keep you alive. Go. Eat.”

  Shilpy turned back to the short man offering her food. He was still smiling. “Going once . . .” he said.

  She turned again, but Clotho was gone.

  The barmaid rolled her eyes and gave her a brief nod. Shilpy shivered. What had she just agreed to?

  “Going twice . . .”

  She nodded and gathered her bag. With one fi
nal look at the empty chair Clotho had just vacated, Shilpy stood and followed the wedges back to their table.

  To be concluded in The Star of Fate.

  Find out more by visiting http://www.davidtmyers.com

  Thanks for reading

  I hope you enjoyed the Gifts of Fate, my first book. I’d love if you could leave a review on the retailer you purchased the book from. Reviews help to increase the book’s visibility, but also provides me with valuable feedback as to what is working and what isn’t. Good or bad, I look forward to discovering what you thought about my story.

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  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the following delightful people. Scott Pack, Rachel Small and Heather Thompson, for their editorial expertise; Lliam Amor for being a photographic phenomenon; Neil, Rhys, Luke and Terri-ann for being the best beta-readers; Adrei Bat, for his cool book cover design; Kath, Ann, Rob, Yu-Lan, Kerri, John, Jonathan, Amanda, Sarah, Sophie and Jess for being an awesome advance reader team; and most important of all, you. Thank you for supporting me and this work.

  About the author

  David lives with his wife, two children and the whitest cat you’ve ever seen in Melbourne, Australia. David is a passionate storyteller, and can often be seen on stage performing with Impro Melbourne, an improvised theatre company. When not writing, fathering, husbanding or performing, David works in IT as a business analyst for whoever will pay him.