Page 113 of Of Flame and Fate

Glimpses of the backstage intermix with glimpses of Destiny. “Taran, hear me,” she says, her voice growing weaker.

“I hear you,” I say, fighting through the overstimulation of imagery.

She’s in her bed, the one in our basement, her long black hair contrasting deeply against her pale white skin and the ivory robe she’s wearing. She’s almost dead, I know she is.

Her breaths are harsh, labored, every word she expresses appearing to rob her of life. “Fate doesn’t get to decide if Celia’s children will rid the world of evil,” she says. “It’s destiny.”

“What?” I ask. I want to presume she’s delirious, and losing herself as she fades into the light. But there’s a reason she’s reaching out to me so close to death, and I’ll be damned if I don’t pay attention.

“Destiny, tell me what’s happening,” I plead.

The barrage of images separating my reality from my connection to her dwindles and I start to see more of the dark curtains swaying in front of me. “Uh-uh, girl,” I tell her, spitting each syllable out through my teeth. “Don’t you leave me now.”

A flash of her face appears and she slowly blinks her eyes open. “That’s it, baby,” I say. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Johnny’s singing fades, as do my surroundings, leaving only Destiny. “Fate doesn’t get to decide if Celia’s children will rid the world of evil,” she repeats. “It’s destiny.”

“Okay, I heard you,” I say carefully. “Now tell me what you mean.”

Tears swim in her eyes, releasing one by one. “Evil has known about you and your sisters since the dawn of creation, and long before it first cursed your family.” More tears fall, her weakness overtaking her, but her anger pushing her forward.

I’m crying, too, for what she’s enduring and how much it hurts her to speak. “What has evil known?” I press.

Almost at once, her tears dry up, her stare determined even as the rest of her body betrays her. “That your children will rise against it.” She swallows hard. “Fate knows it, too . . . He’s been leeching my power in order to kill them all.”

I feel myself rise from the position on the floor, the slow thuds of my heartbeat speeding up and growing pronounced.

“Johnny is leeching your power?” I manage. I turn in the direction of where I think the stage is, but all I see is Destiny.

“Yes,” Destiny says, her remaining strength quickly leaving her. “Youhaveto kill Johnny, Taran. In order for your children to face their destiny, their fate with death must be destroyed.”

I barely believe what she’s saying, my insides sinking into the floor. But I’m listening. God damn it, I have to. “Johnny is their fate with death?” I stammer.

“Yes,” she answers.

And then she’s gone.

Chapter Twenty-Four

When I was a little girl, I used to have nightmares about my parents dying. I used to dream of dark caskets being lowered deep into the ground. I couldn’t see them, but I knew it was them.

“Don’t cry,” Daddy used to say as he held me. “It was only a dream.”

Until it wasn’t.

I blink my eyes against my bleak surroundings, staring at the pull ropes and heavy curtains for what seems like too long. What happened to my parents was a nightmare that came true, all because long ago, when the world first began, Evil and Good decided to battle it out, and Good determined we would stand among its warriors.

I turn in the direction of the stage, my lightning cracking against my fingers as my balled hands open wide. Too many times I’ve wished for my daddy to hold me again, to wrap me in his protection and love, to assure me that all the bad was just a dream and only good awaited now.

Except this isn’t a nightmare. It’s my fucking reality where I have to choose between a young man’s life and children yet to be born.

It should be an easy choice. I’ve known Johnny a handful of weeks. These are my children I’m speaking of,our children, mine, Shayna’s, Emme’s, and Celia’s.Celiawho is already carrying thefateof the future in her womb—

Fate.

There’s a word.

No, there’s a person.

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