Page 82 of A Fate Unwoven
Dimas’s heart gave a hopefulthud.Could the ritual have been the same one they were using to interrupt his bond with Lenora?
“What do you mean?” asked Dimas.
“The old stories say the Corrupted are drawn to the Fateweaver’s magic. That it was the Furybringer’s abuse of Næbya’s magic that created them in the first place, and … because of that link in their magics, the Furybringer was also able to control them. The original members of theZværnaOrder were able to tap into the same source energy that fuels the Fateweaver’s power, right? To use a fraction of it to cast rituals and incantations?”
“Yes …,” Dimas replied. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “The ability was granted to the founding members of the Order for their devotion. And when they passed, that ability passed down to their descendants.”
“Then, isn’t it possible,” Lena continued, “that theHæstahave found a way to do the same with the Furybringer? That maybe, before she died, she found a way to share a fraction of her magic with them somehow?”
“That is heretical nonsense,” Roston spat.
“Up until a few weeks ago, so was the existence of thekorupted,” Lena snapped, not bothering to use the modern Wyrecian pronunciation this time. “Besides, can you think of a better explanation?”
Dimas couldn’t. And at this point, he was too exhausted to try. “True or not, we need to stop them before they make their next move.”
“What if …” Lena paused, glancing at Roston with barely veiled distrust, then, as if realizing he wasn’t going anywhere, she sighed. “What if I could trigger another vision? One that might help us locate theHæsta.”
Roston shook his head. “There’s no guarantee you’d see anything that could help. And even if you could, your control is still too unstable.”
“Then let’s make it more stable,” she said. “Iska mentioned there was a way to improve my control, some sort of … ancient ritual or something.”
Why hadn’t Iska told him? He took a step toward his Fateweaver, hoping she couldn’t sense his desperation through their bond. “What kind of ritual?”
“One used by the firstZværnapriests to allow a Fateweaver to channel a source of magic,” his uncle said, glancing coldly at Lenora. “It was forbidden centuries ago by the Order themselves due to its unpredictability.”
“You seem to know a lot about something that’s apparently forbidden,” Lenora said, not bothering to hide the contempt in her voice.
“As advisor to the emperor, it’s my job to know as much as possible about the history of our empire. No, you will wait until the Rite of Ascension, like all Fateweavers before you.”
Lena’s lips tightened. “The longer we wait, the more time this damned cult has to kill more people.”
“Then we don’t wait,” Dimas said. “We hold the Rite of Ascension tomorrow eve.”
“Tomorrow?” Lena asked, her head whipping around to face him. Dimas felt the faintest brush of her fear before their connection weakened once more. “Are you sure … I mean, am I ready?”
He looked at Lenora, at the heretical storyteller who held his empire’s fate in her hands. “I’m willing to take the risk if it means saving Wyrecia. Are you?”
Dimas braced himself for her to refuse. But she said, “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?”
Dimas exhaled. Despite how close she’d come to losing control in the temple, Lenora had fought against theHæsta.And now she was willing to take a huge risk to ensure the cult didn’t catch them off guard again. She had more than proven her worth as his Fateweaver. All that was left was for her to complete the Rite of Ascension.
And when she did, there would be nothing stopping them from taking theHæstaonce and for all.
THIRTY-SIX
LENA
Lena had barely entered her chambers when Maia came barreling into her arms.
“Iska told me what happened,” Maia said, hazel eyes rimmed red, her grip on Lena tight enough to make her own eyes burn. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, little wolf.”
Lena wrapped her arms around the younger girl, breathing in the scent of vanilla and sandalwood clinging to her hair. In the short time they’d been at the palace, Maia’s too-thin frame had filled out. She still looked tired, and she was still forced to rest for days at a time after her novitiate duties took their toll, but the glow on her face that had been slowly brightening since they’d got to the palace was now impossible to ignore, and Lena was once again struck by the harsh reality that, like her brother, Maia had taken to noble life like she was meant for it.
And that Lena was going to take it all from her.
The thought had her tenderly unraveling herself from Maia’s embrace. Lena had never wanted to get her involved in all of this. Wouldn’t have had to if Finæn hadn’t—
