Page 33 of A Fate Unwoven
“They are. If you die, so does the Ehmar boy. But the bond was created by theZværna,and as such, they have the power to … transfer it to anyone they deem worthy.”
A sob rose in Lena’s chest. “So that’s it, then? Either I become the empire’s weapon, or I die and doom Wyrecia to another lifetime of oppression?” She shook her head. “No, there has to be another way.”
Venysa considered her for a moment. “There may be, but it is … dangerous. During my time as Fateweaver, I grew close to an acolyte of theZværna.He was working on a way to sever the bond between an emperor and a Fateweaver, one that would allow the Fateweaver to retain her magic.” She paused, eyes glowing silver in the darkness, brow furrowing as if she was struggling to recall a memory. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. Weaker. “I died before he could complete it, but I believe he finished what we began. And if he did, there is only one place he would have hidden the finished ritual.”
Lena knew she shouldn’t care. Knew she shouldn’t trust this ancient spirit dwelling inside of her. And yet she found herself asking, “Where?”
The edges around Venysa began to flicker. When she spoke again, her voice was far weaker than it had been just seconds before. “There are tunnels beneath the palace which lead to a hidden chamber. Look for the entrance hidden inside the Fateweaver’s room.”
Lena let out a disbelieving laugh. “You want me to go to thepalace?”
“Yes. It is the only way to break the bond, Lenora. The only way you will ever truly be free.” She paused. “It is the only way yourpeoplewill ever be free.”
Free. Freedom.
Lena was stunned into silence, suddenly flooded with images of her mother beside a campfire as she wove story after story—of a vividmemory of a warm embrace as her mother whispered why she’d become a storyteller.
Because I believe that, one day, we will live in a world where we are free.
Lena’s body was trembling, her mind racing as Venysa said, “Our time grows short. Once Lady Sefwyn passes, the bond between her and the emperor will transfer, in its entirety, to you and the prince. When that happens, it will be difficult for me to contact you. I will try, but in the meantime, your magic will guide you—if you let it.” Venysa tilted her head, the silver light of her eyes dimming. “Goodbye, Lenora.”
“Wait, I—”
But Venysa was already fading, and Lena could faintly hear the sound of someone calling her name. A fresh wave of pain traveled up her arm, into her chest, turning the world white. She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to breathe through the pain. It was too much. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, couldn’tthink.
“Kelia!”
Casimir’s voice was enough to bring her back to herself. She was aware of the ground beneath her back, of the smell of leather and metal. The pain began to recede once more, and slowly Lena forced herself to open her eyes.
She was lying on her back on her sleeping mat. Casimir was kneeling beside her, his face tight with an expression she couldn’t name.
“What … what happened?”
“You started thrashing in your sleep. Screaming. I thought you were just having a nightmare, but then you opened your eyes. Yoursilvereyes.” Lena sucked in a breath, searching for a lie to tell, when Casimir added, “If I’d known I was helping Wyrecia’s next Fateweaver flee to Verlond, I’d have charged alotmore.”
Lena darted to her feet, backing away from the smuggler as far as she could in the small hut.
“Easy there,” Casimir said, hands raised just as they had been in Deyecia. “You want to run, right? To escape Wyrecia? I can still help you.”
Lena hesitated. She wanted to believe him. To believe that she could keep running. But the first Fateweaver’s words came back to her, repeating over and over in her mind. If there was any chance Venysa was right about the bond, then it didn’t matter how far Lena ran.
She would never be free. Herpeoplewould never be free.
Not until she severed the bond.
“You said the empire has secrets it doesn’t want people to know,” Lena began, watching the smuggler’s expression carefully. “Do any of them involve the bond between the Fateweaver and the emperor?”
If he knew something, anything, about the bond or how to break it without going to the palace, then Lena had to try to coax it out of him.You can’t trust him,the ancient voice in her head warned.You can’t trust anyone.
A pause. The briefest flicker ofsomethingin Casimir’s dark eyes. And then he said, “I’m afraid the bond remains the Church of Næbya’s closest guarded secret.”
The last shred of hope Lena had been holding on to disappeared. Lena couldn’t tell if the smuggler was lying, but it didn’t really matter; either way, she wasn’t going to get the answers she sought here.
“We should get some rest,” Casimir said when Lena remained silent. “You can continue your endless onslaught of questions in the morning.” He was already lying back on the cloak he’d taken off and put beneath him, his eyes drifting shut.
“Alright,” Lena lied.
She turned on her side but did not close her eyes. Instead, she lay awake until Casimir’s breathing grew heavy. And when she was certain he was asleep, Lena carefully rose from the ground and rummaged through the smuggler’s bag as quietly as she could. Her fingers searched for the familiar wooden hilt of her mother’s blade, but she found nothing. She considered searching his body, but the risk of waking him was too great. So she abandoned the effort and slipped from the outbuilding and into the night.
