Page 109 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“Best not.”

She scowled at me, though it quickly faded from her face. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.”

“This palace is teaming with magic. It only makes sense we’d be attracted to it.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and a metallic taste fizzled on my tongue as we approached the entrance.

The two massive wooden doors creaked open before we could touch them, revealing a hooded figure dressed in fine muslin robes. I tried to see his face, but only darkness met my gaze. “Welcome, daughters of Morta. We have been waiting a long time for your arrival,” an ancient voice echoed from under the hood.

A cold dampness lingered in the dark tower. Only a few low-burning candles lit the ancient hallways. A layer of dust coated everything, and treasure lay strewn about—fine pieces of artwork, jewels, and gold all collected cobwebs in large piles. This place had once been a testament to the Fate’s power, but now only the ghosts of grandeur remained.

“This way,” the figure said, grasping the railing of a massive circular staircase with a decrepit hand covered in paper-thin skin. Whatever this creature was, it had died a long time ago.

A beam of silver light cascaded in from the glass ceiling above. Dust floated like snowflakes as we climbed higher and higher into the tower.

“The sisters reside at the top,” the wraith said.

Rocks piled in my stomach. Each step brought me closer to our mother. I didn’t know what I would say to her. Anger, love, resentment, and guilt all swirled around my head. I wanted to turn around and run the other way, but that wasn’t an option. I had to be brave now. I had to fix my past mistakes. I would not run any longer. I was better than that.

I looked at my sister whose eyes were on the floor. A sullen look etched across her pale face.

My breath hitched in my throat when we reached the precipice. Two bronze doors inscribed with a depiction of the Trinity endowing the Fates with their power were the only thing standing between me and my mother.

“Through the doors,” the wraith said. I wondered how long they had been trapped here. Not dead, but not fully alive, lingering in the in between.

Hesitating, I straightened my leather cuirass, trying to work up the nerve to push the door open.

“Go on. The sisters do not like to be kept waiting.”

I turned the golden handle, pushing the heavy door open. Inside, an ecosystem unto its own awaited us. Trees grew fromstone, their leaves splayed out in vibrant yellows and oranges. The smell of honeysuckle and lavender filled the air, and exotic birds flew from branch to branch. A small waterfall flowed into a river that snaked through the floor.

Three golden thrones sat in the center of the room, each occupied by a Fate. My eyes raked over each one. Clotho: elven with sharp features, pale skin, blue eyes, and hair as white as snow. She wore a traditional elven top, white with blue accents and buttons to her chin. Decuma: sylph, tawny skinned, voluptuous, with lush lips and long dark lashes. Thick black curls cascaded over her bare shoulders. She wore a beautiful linen dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her fingers were adorned with jeweled rings. My eyes fell upon my mother. Hair as black as night twisted into tight braids and woven into intricate patterns led to her angular face where freckles like mine dotted her nose. Piercing green eyes peered back at me from beneath lowered lashes. She wore her signature purple satin ballgown with gold accents.

“Welcome,” Decuma said in a voice like rich molasse. “Morta has told us about you. We were wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

“Mother!” Baylis said from behind me, running to our mother’s open arms.

A pang of jealousy ran through me at how easy it was for Baylis to forgive our mother—to love her unconditionally. I guess I too was the recipient of Baylis’s grace. I too had betrayed her, and she’d forgiven me.

“Baylis. You’re alright,” she said, kissing my sister on the head. “I thought you were dead.”

“Couldn’t you ask one of these two whether she was alive?” I snipped, pointing at Clotho and Decuma. One of them has the power to see the present.

“We don’t work for each other,” Decuma hissed. “That has always been our way. All or nothing. Past, present, and future.”

“For being sisters, you sure are cold to one another.” They had been gods once, but I never worshiped them, and I didn’t want them to think they had any power over me.

“You have no idea what we have been through in the past ten thousand years. We have predicted the rise and fall of nations. Seen gods tremble. Watched dragons fall from the sky. And still, we remained loyal to one another until Morta left.” She gave my mother a sneering look.

“I heard a different story.”

“Whatever you heard is nothing but petty gossip,” Clotho said, holding her head high.

Squashing my annoyance, I plucked an apple from one of the trees, slicing into it with my knife. These women wanted me to bow before them like the kings of old. But those days were over, and the Fates lost their way long ago. I bit into the tart flesh of the fruit. A flavor unlike anything I had tasted before bloomed in my mouth, but I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me enjoy their fruit.

Spitting it on the floor, I tossed the apple to the side. Too long had they held the fates of men in their greedy hands without recourse. They were nothing but myths now… ghosts of an era long passed, and I would treat them as such. Not all gods deserved to live forever.

“Aelia, come here. Let me see you,” my mother begged, arms outstretched.

I wanted to be mad at her, I wanted to scream at her and shake her until she told me everything she knew of my fate. Did you see what my future held? Was this all apart of some grand plan the Trinity had, or did you just not care? Rage boiled in my veins. But seeing the desperation in her verdant eyes mademy heart crack a little. I missed her. She’d been as lost as I was. Perhaps she did what she thought was best for me… for us.

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