Page 117 of A Fate Unwoven
“We have to go.” He had to shout to be heard over the sound of stone crashing against stone.
Lena had been so focused on Finæn that she hadn’t realized the cavern was collapsing around them. The blast she’d directed at Iska had been powerful enough to knock down most of the stone pillars and break through the cavern’s far wall. The few imperial soldiers who were still standing rushed toward the exit, blood and dust making them indistinguishable from one another. On the chamber floor, it was impossible to tell who had survived the battle and who hadn’t.
It was only when she saw Yana carrying Maia up the cavern steps, when the thought of leaving her alone in the world broke something in her chest, that Lena took Casimir’s hand.
Casimir tugged her toward the entrance, but Lena lingered, her gaze drifting back to Finæn’s lifeless form. “I’m not leaving him here.” She left no room in her voice to argue. She’d carry him on her back herself if she had to.
But Ioseph, who was looking at Dimas as if he wanted nothing more than to gather him in his arms, said, “I’ve got him.”
“No, I’ll do it.” Dimas’s voice was hoarse as he gently lifted Finæn’s body over his shoulder. “I need you to carry Brother Dunstan.”
The High Priest still lay on the ground near the stairs. Ioseph dipped his chin, grief flashing across his features. “Of course.”
The mountain rumbled, sending a fresh cascade of stone and dirt falling onto the chamber floor. Casimir barely managed to dodge a chunk of stone as he tightened his hold on Lena’s hand. This time, when he tugged her forward, Lena did not resist.
They stopped just long enough for Ioseph to lift Brother Dunstan’s limp body into his arms. For Dimas to utter a grief-filled “I’m sorry” as he looked over the fallen bodies of his comrades.
Then they were running for the stairs toward the exit. Toward freedom.
And when the ritual chamber ceiling finally caved in, burying what was left of the first Fateweaver and her followers beneath it, Lenora Vesthir did not look back.
FIFTY-TWO
DIMAS
His uncle had planned for his own defeat.
Dimas stared at the wanted poster in his hands, his limbs trembling with the effort it took to stay standing.
Even now, with many of theHæstaburied beneath the earth, he had still managed to fail.
“Those bastards,” Lenora snarled, staring down at the poster over his shoulder. The air around them seemed to pulsate with her power as she took in the words:
WANTED:
Dimas Ehmar, former Emperor of Wyrecia,
for his association with heretics and the murder
of Regent Roston Ehmar
Casimir had brought the poster to him, along with a similar one with Lenora’s face on it and the word FURYBRINGERwritten in bold. After they’d escaped theHæsta’s stronghold, the group had returned tothe small cave they’d taken refuge in the night they’d fled the imperial city, where they’d waited whilst Casimir snuck back into Novobyrg to see if Iska’s claims about Milos were true.
Even if you succeed here, Milos and the rest of Venysa’s followers under his command will ensure Wyrecia’s throne will never be yours.
His cousin had been telling the truth. According to Casimir, in the two days that had passed since the fight with theHæsta,Milos had become acting regent and managed to take control of the church. The entire city—fate, the entireempire—had branded Lenora and Dimas as their enemies.
“I won’t be used as anyone’s weapon,” Lena said, her hands clenching into fists at her side, “not now—not ever. But … the people of this empire deserve to know the truth; about Venysa, about Næbya, so … if you want to fight for that, forthem,then I’m with you.”
I’m with you.
Fate, how he’d longed to hear those words from her. All he’d ever wanted was Lenora on his side. For them to share a bond as divine as the first emperor and his Fateweaver.
Except that bond had been anythingbutdivine—and if the people of Wyrecia found out, the legacy his family had built would be burned to ash.
The Dimas of a few weeks ago would have put the empire’s legacy above everything else. But that Dimas had been raised by his father.ThisDimas, the Dimas who had seen the corruption at the heart of the empire’s church and knew what staying silent would cost his people, was the Dimas he might have been if his mother had lived.
There was just one problem.
