Page 71 of A Fate Unwoven
Lena got to her feet, wrapping her robe around herself. “It’s getting late.” The flash of vulnerability she’d shown was gone. Dimas tried not to take her dismissal to heart as he glanced at the darkening sky beyond her window, his own body heavy with exhaustion.
“I’ll send Iska to you in the morning,” said Dimas. “If you have any visions in the meantime, please ask one of the guards at your door to send for me.”
She dipped her chin. “I will.”
He was just about to open the door and let himself out when he found himself hesitating, his fingers hovering above the silver door handle. “Thank you,” he said.
Her voice was laced with suspicion as she asked, “For what?”
“For trusting me.”
He left before she had a chance to reply, the faint brush of Lena’s surprise against their bond following him back to his rooms.
THIRTY-ONE
LENA
“Let me get this straight,” Casimir said, propping up his legs on the small table before her fireplace. “You’d like to change the terms of our deal. First, you asked me to smuggle my father’s heretical research, which you subsequently claim is of no use to you, after all, into the heart of Wyrecia’s palace. Now you insist I locate and steal some old books from the High Priest’shiddenarchives because you think theymightcontain a ritual that will allow you to amplify visions you believe hold the key to breaking your bond to the emperor?”
Lena looked up from one of the thick leather tomes Casimir had brought her.
“Yes, that sounds about right. And I still want my dagger back.”
Iska had indicated she’d check if Brother Dunstan would agree to share the texts in his private collection—but it was too big of anif—and they’d likely only show Lena the texts they’d think she should see. Surely, if there was anything at all in them that might help Lena break her bond to the emperor, they’d keep them as far away from Lena as possible.
She’d briefly considered asking Maia to see if she could get her hands on them but had quickly dismissed the thought; Maia was just a novitiate, and despite Brother Dunstan’s outwardly warm demeanor, who knows what the consequences would be if she was caught? No, Maia had suffered enough at the wrath of Wyrecia. But if the smuggler was as good as he claimed to be, then he’d be able to get in and out without anyone noticing.
Casimir stared at her for a moment, eyes softening, before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but what willyoube doing whilst I’m spying on one of the most important people in the empire?” asked Casimir.
With a glare, Lena said, “Training. Learning to use my power so that when the time comes, I’m strong enough to pull off the ritual. Unlessyou’dlike to perform it?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
“I didn’t think so.”
She wasn’t even sure shecouldperform the ritual. The bond had been created by theZværnaOrder, and—as they were loyal to Næbya—their magic came from the goddess herself.
Just like the Fateweaver’s did.
It was a different kind of magic, yes, but surely they were linked enough that Lena could use the Fateweaver’s power to undo whatever spell theZværnahad created?
And if she couldn’t, well … then she’d just have to find someone who could.
A sharp stab radiated through her forehead. She gritted her teeth, eyes clenching shut against the sudden rush of ice-cold power in her veins. Threads flashed behind her eyelids, bright enough to hurt. She sucked in a deep breath. Tried to concentrate on the way it felt as she held it in her lungs.
“What can I do?” Casimir asked, his voice surprisingly close.
She shook her head, holding her breath until her lungs burned. Until the power threatening to overwhelm her subsided and the threads disappeared.
When she finally felt in control enough to open her eyes again, she found Casimir standing barely a foot away from her, his expression pinched, and the concern in his gaze was almost enough to shatter the last of her resolve. “Are you okay?”
She ran a shaking hand through her hair, swallowing the sob threatening to rise in her throat. She’d thought leaning in to her magic would put an end to these pains. Had thought playing along, in the role of the perfect Fateweaver, would eventually earn her the freedom she so desperately sought. But even after weeks of practicing control, the Fateweaver’s power was still as unpredictable to her as a winter storm.
“Hey.” Casimir’s voice cut through her thoughts. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”
She stared at him, her chest constricting. And then, because she didn’t know what else to do, she nodded, her voice cracking slightly when she spoke. “Yeah.”
There was an awkward moment where they simply looked at each other. In the glow of the firelight, the freckles across the smuggler’s nose appeared even more like stars. They reminded Lena of staring up at the night sky in the Wilds on a clear night. Of his voice in the quiet aftermath of Silah’s death as they lay side by side.
