Page 21 of Until Death
“Tell us, what brings you to our humble abode?” Atropos asks, her voice dripping with false naivety.
“I require your help,” I answer, swallowing my pride.
“Is that so,” she says, her eyes gleaming with delight. “And what could you possibly need from us?"
"I need answers," I say, my jaw clenching as I try to keep my voice even. "Information that only you can provide."
The Fates share a look, their eyes glinting in amusement at my request. They know the power they currently hold over me, and they are savoring it.
Finally, Clotho speaks.
"We can provide you with the answers you seek," she says, her voice soft and eerily melodic, "but there will be a price to pay."
As there always is. Nothing comes free in this world, especially when it involves fate.
"Very well, name your price," I say darkly.
Atropos leans forward, her eyes gleaming.
"Not so fast. We have other business to discuss first, Death.”
“Your business, to be exact,” Clotho adds.
“I do not have time for—”
“Sit,” all three voices demand in unison.
Reluctantly, I step forward to take a seat opposite them, my eyes never leaving the three sisters as they continue to work at the loom, their fingers moving in a blur as they weave.
They say nothing for a long moment, their smiles never slipping as they keep their eyes fixed on me. It would be less disturbing if they would simply scowl at me as I know they wish to.
Still, I do not allow them to intimidate me. As much as we might abhor one another, there is little they can do to me that I do not allow.
“I—”
“You will have your chance to speak,” Clotho interrupts.
“We will listen to your every word, but first you must listen to ours,” Lachesis says.
“We have been watching you, Death,” Atropos begins, her fingers moving faster over the loom. “Watching as you have meddled in our affairs time and time again.”
Inhaling deeply, I prepare myself for the very lecture I was expecting. A moment passes as the three continue to stare at me.
“Why is it that you cannot leave well enough alone?” Clotho snaps, her eyes flashing.
“Why is it that you choose to tangle the webs we have so carefully woven of mortal fate?” the middle sister adds.
I do not answer even as their eyes bore into me, daring me to defend myself. The silence stretches on, and I can feel the weight of their gazes upon me. I grit my teeth, holding back the retort that threatens to spill from my lips.
“Speak!” Atropos hisses.
"I do what is necessary," I say, meeting their gaze unflinchingly. "You may deal in fate, but I deal in souls. I am the one who must carry out the ultimate reaping of the lives that you toy with. Why should I not have some say in what happens to them?”
The women’s smiles all slip, just slightly, as they each cock their heads at me.
“Because,” Clotho says, “it is our carefully woven threads that make sure all things work in accordance with the ultimate plan of the universe.”
“It is our hands that make sure lives are spent according to their measure.”
