Page 91 of A Fate Unwoven
“You can have them,” she said, studying the lock, “but first we need to finish what we came here to do. Give me your dagger.”
She knew he’d brought one. Knew that he carried his weapons around like she once had, back when she’d been free to do so.
Casimir crouched down beside her, dagger grasped in his hand. He handed it over wordlessly, silently watching as she slid the blade behindthe lock and, using the chest itself as a weight, pulled with as much force as she could gather. The rusted lock snapped and gave way, the chain around the chest falling slack.
Casimir let out a small, impressed huff. “And here I thought I’d discovered all of your hidden talents?” He smirked.
She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she slid off the remnants of the chain. “There’s plenty you still have left to learn, Raven.”
Before he could reply, Lena pulled the chains away from the chest and lifted its lid, the creak of old hinges echoing off the stone walls. Lena held back a sneeze as a stale must and tingle of magic filled the chamber. Her power thrummed beneath her skin as she reached into the chest and sorted through the items. An empty, chipped chalice. A bundle of dried herbs. And rolled and sealed with theZværna’s symbol was a single, stained piece of parchment.
Lena’s heart thundered in her ears as she lifted it from the chest and drew Casimir’s dagger through the wax symbol, uncurling the scroll with shaking hands. Like the symbols on the doors, the contents were written in old Wyrecian, but Lena knew from the way her magic responded to them what she held in her hands.
The ritual to break the bond between an emperor and a Fateweaver.
The key to her freedom.
Performing the ritual was going to be harder than Lena had hoped.
The magic itself wasn’t the problem. The tomes they’d found in the acolyte’s chamber held pages and pages on the Fateweaver’s magic, from abilities she hadn’t even known she had to methods that were devised to help Venysa harness her power.
The problem was that the severing ritual had to be performed on the same ground it was created, with both Fateweaverandemperorpresent. “We only have one shot at this,” she said, looking over the ritual for what must have been the tenth time since they’d returned to her rooms. “According to Iska’s lessons, the original bond was created in the old church, right below where the current church was built.”
Casimir, sprawled out on the chair closest to the window, nodded, and Lena found it harder than normal to tear her gaze away from the sight. “Consecrated grounds. You should be able to do the ritual directly above that underground location, which would be right around … here.” He pointed to a spot on the sketch of the church he’d drawn, the charcoal staining his fingers leaving a small smudge right in the middle of the main hall. The exact same place the Rite of Ascension was due to take place in less than eighteen bells.
Lena sighed, a headache forming behind her eyes. “How exactly am I supposed to perform a forbidden, ancient ritual to break my bond to theiremperorright in front of them?”
“Seeing their expressions when they realized what was happening would be awfully amusing, but I think it’s best you do this without an audience. I’m sure I can craft some sleeping potions quickly enough.”
“Craft?” Lena asked, the memory of him knocking out the city guard’s in Deyecia coming back to her. “The potion you used in Deyecia, youmadethat?”
The smuggler smirked. “It seems you still have a lot to learn about me too,heretic.”
Ignoring the traitorous flip in her stomach, Lena said, “So, that’s the priests and acolytes out of the way; what about the ingredients for the potion to enhance my sight?”
The ritual required her to psychically sever the bond between her and Dimas, a gambit that required her to see a person’s threads with absolute clarity. Thankfully, the acolyte’s tomes included mention of a potion to help a Fateweaver enhance her second sight, which, ironically, would have beenextremelyhelpful when she was trying to open the Sisters-damned chamber in the first place. Fate really did have a cruel sense of humor.
“I have a contact in the city who can help with that,” Casimir said. “Once I’ve got the ingredients, I can make the potion myself.”
“Then I guess all that’s left is figuring out how to get myself and Dimas into the main hall of the church before the ceremony,” Lena said.
“Any ideas?” Casimir asked.
Lena let out a sigh. “No.”
It would be difficult. The moment the sun rose, both she and Dimas would be surrounded by servants and acolytes alike, forced to cleanse themselves and seek guidance from those who came before them until the sun set again. The only time they’d have alone was during their final prayer, meant to be taken in isolation before Næbya’s altar, but there was no way Dimas would willingly leave the prayer chamber during the most important worshipping session of his life.
Unless …
“Casimir,” she began, her stomach already twisting as the plan took shape, “how would you feel about stabbing me?”
Not much caught the smuggler off guard, but her question made his head whip up, his dark eyes narrowing as he searched her expression for some sign of a joke. When he realized she was serious, he said, “I know you can be a little prickly sometimes, but I’m not sure that warrants gettingstabbed.”
Lena glared. “I don’t meanstabbingstabbing. Just … a shallow gash. Enough to make Dimas sense that I’m in danger. The old stories say that if an emperor is wounded, so too is the Fateweaver bound to him. Our binding isn’t complete, so I don’t know how well it will work, but if Dimas thinks I’m wounded …”
“Then he’ll come running,” Casimir finished.
She nodded. “I’d do it myself, but I need him to believe there’s a real threat if he sees me through the bond.”
