Page 78 of A Fate Unwoven
Lena knew it was stupid to ignore him after all she’d done to earn his trust. Stupid to go through those doors and toward whatever creature had torn this man apart.
But she did it anyway.
The inner chamber of the temple was littered with bodies. Over a dozen men and women lay on the stone floor, torn open in shreds. And in the center of it all, back-to-back and swords raised, stood General Alræn and Finæn.
Finæn’s gaze locked onto her the moment she entered the room. The alarmed flare of his threads was the only warning she got before something lunged out of the shadows, knocking into Mirena with enough force to send her sword clattering to the ground. Finæn whirled, lunging toward the bony figure atop the general’s chest, but before his sword could find its mark, the being sprang aside, an awful, piercingscreechemitting from its lipless mouth.
Lena’s blood ran cold at the sight of it. Limbs that were slightly too long, the pale flesh so thin you could still see bone. A face half covered by a translucent membrane, dirt-matted strands of hair, and a waist so thin Lena could see each bone of its rib cage. Worst of all, though, were the bloodstained fingernails, each one curved into a point as sharp as the blade in Finæn’s hands. The perfect weapon for tearing into flesh.
Wrecen.
Another creature from her mother’s stories. The vengeful souls of a human left to die a long, agonizing death,wrecenwere fated to wander the earth, stealing the life force from other living beings to survive. Fear wrapped a cold fist around Lena’s heart, freezing her in place. Like thewylfenand thebyrnen,thewrecenshouldn’t have been real.
But it was. And it had appeared here, in the imperial city, its fingers coated with the blood of over a dozen pilgrims.
Thewrecenshifted again, head tilting at an unnatural angle as its coal-black gaze locked onto Finæn.
The creature let out another ear-piercing screech, its long, sharp teeth flashing like bones in the firelight of the temple. It lunged toward Finæn, claws bared, its movements too fast to intervene.
She was distantly aware of people entering the temple hall behind her. Of a familiar voice yelling Finæn’s name.
I’m going to watch him die. I’m going to watch him die and there’s nothing I can do about it.Her power flared, flooding through her like liquid fire, burning away the ice-cold grip of her fear.Yes, it said,you can.
Lena’s magic surged toward the creature, and this time, she made no attempt to stop it. She had commanded akoruptedonce before. She could do it again.
“Stop!”
The word ripped from her in a scream, her power flaring at the sudden rush of emotions. But the creature didn’t so much as lift its head.
It isn’t working.Panic seized Lena’s lungs. Cut off her air. She willed her magic to wrap around the creature’s threads, as it had done Mirek’s, but every time it got close, her body would flood with a dark, ice-like numbness that caused her power to shrink back.
Think. She had to think. If she couldn’t control the creature, then maybe she could control Finæn. Change his fate to ensure he stayed alive. Her magic shifted focus, moving from the creature to the web of threads surrounding Finæn. She didn’t know what she was doing, but the Fateweaver’s magic did. Like it had done in the forest the night she realized she was becoming the next Fateweaver, time seemed to slow, and then there was nothing but the hum of Finæn in her veins, his past and present and future all woven into one. If she could just find the right thread, she could—
Another wave of ice-cold darkness flared through her veins. She stumbled, her magic losing its grip on Finæn’s threads. Lena scrambled to get it back, to do something, but she was frozen, forced to watch as the creature from her mother’s stories crashed into her former lover, knocking him to the ground with a sickening crack. As it raised its clawed fingers and moved in for the kill.
“That’s enough.”
The voice came from the shadows, quiet and commanding all at once. And just like that, just as thewylfenhad in Forvyrg, thewrecen… stopped.
The command hadn’t come from her, yet thewrecenstood frozen in wait, its black gaze shifting from Finæn to the figure stepping out of the darkness. Lena caught a flash of crimson fabric. Of threads shrouded in shadow.
TheHæsta.
She’d seen someone dressed just like him in her vision. Had felt the same suffocating darkness in the air. Whatever magic the cultist was using was … wrong, somehow. Corrupted in a way she couldn’t explain.
And he was using it to control the creature. To controlher.
Lena gritted her teeth, fighting against his compulsion with everything she had. A sharp throb pressed against the back of her eyes, so severe it stole the breath from her lungs.
“It is pointless to struggle. The control I have over my power far exceeds yours. Ah, ah,” the cultist said when Ioseph took a small step forward. The guard’s sword was clutched tightly in his hand, his face a mask of cold fury as he took in the dozens of bodies littering the temple floor. “If you do not wish to have your friend’s heart ripped from his chest right before you, I’d suggest you stay put.”
A heavy silence followed the cultist’s words. Dimas, Ioseph, the general, and Yana froze with matching expressions of horror as they stared at the creature looming over Finæn.
The cultist let out a satisfied hum, his footsteps near silent as he drew closer to Lena. Close enough that she could see the flash of green eyes beneath his hood. Could smell the scent of blood and death and something else, somethingrotten,in the air. She lifted her chin, refusing to cower before him even as her magic writhed beneath her skin.
Even though she was already certain, she forced the words out through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”
“It is not about what I want, but about what the worldneeds.” A smile appeared beneath the shadows of his hood. “You will help us deliver justice, Lenora Vesthir.”
