Page 116 of A Fate Unwoven
And pulled.
The first Fateweaverscreamed.An earsplitting sound that drowned out everything else. The shadows around Venysa’s threads receded for a moment. Just long enough for Lena to see the single thread hovering in the air between them. It was the same kind that had bound Lena to Dimas.
Which meant she knew how to sever it.
Just as she had done back at the church, Lena imagined her power manifesting before her. Imagined it taking the shape of a blade ready to cut.
But she faltered. Blood dripped from her nose as the blade she’d conjured began to fade. Even weakened, Venysa was too strong. The amount of magic it would take to overpower her … it was the kind that was never meant to be wielded by one person alone.
There was the faint sensation of someone taking her hand. Of fingers interweaving with her own. Lena looked to her side, her power surging anew as she saw the faint outline of a dozen Fateweavers lined up beside her, a whole history of women reaching back through time. Lena recognized Lady Aalys from her visions, and as their eyes met, anger rushed through Lena at the memory of what Venysa had turned her into.
Eyes stinging, Lena turned her attention back to the blade, using the power the past Fateweavers were lending her to strengthen it once more. Venysa’s eyes widened. With a desperate fling of her arm, the first Fateweaver sent a blast of her own magic toward Lena.
Now!Lena commanded. And together, Lena and the past Fateweavers swung the blade clean through the thread connecting them to Venysa.
For a second, nothing happened. Venysa simply stared at her, silver eyes burning.
And then, like smoke dissipating in the wind, the first Fateweaver faded into the dark.
FIFTY-ONE
LENA
The first thing Lena saw when she opened her eyes was Iska raising a sword above Dimas’s head.
She was barely standing. There was a bloodied arrow protruding from her side, and her lips were stained the same crimson as her robes. The emperor was kneeling over a figure Lena couldn’t make out, his back to his cousin.
Lena tried to swing herself upright. To reach out with her magic and stop Iska’s blade from hitting its mark. But Iska was already bringing her sword down in a move too fast for Lena’s muddled mind to comprehend.
Distantly, she heard someone scream Dimas’s name. Saw the familiar shape of a dark-haired soldier coming to a stop in front of the emperor just as Iska’s sword sliced through the air.
Finæn.
A scream tore from Lena’s throat, and the leftover power she’d drawn into herself to sever her connection to Venysa rose up in response. It surged inside of her, a storm demanding to be unleashed.
Lena obeyed.
With a roar, Lena flung the web of threads surrounding her toward Iska. They gathered together as they sliced through the air, a wave of pure energy that slammed the acolyte into the nearest wall. She fell to the ground, the threads around her dimming as her eyes slid shut.
Lena flung herself forward, the space between her and Finæn seeming endless as she stumbled through a maze of bodies clad in crimson robes and imperial armor. But there was only one life she cared about right now. One life she still might be able to save.
She reached him at the same time Ioseph did. The guard did not try to stop her as she fell to her knees over Finæn’s body. As she willed her magic toward a set of threads she could not find.
No, no, no, no, no—
She barely noticed the mountain trembling beneath her as she fell to her knees. All she could see was Finæn, his hazel eyes unfocused, his lips—lips that had once kissed her with such tenderness—coated in blood.
Save him!Lena reached out with her magic again, willing the past Fateweavers to help her find his threads.
But their presence had disappeared the moment she’d awoken, and no matter how hard she tried, Finæn’s threads did not reappear.
Over a decade of memories ran through Lena’s head. Finæn, holding her when her mother died. His smile after he’d kissed her the first time, and the frown he’d worn when she’d disappeared for a week afterward. His face that night in Forvyrg, when he realized what the mark on Lena’s wrist meant, and his expression when Maia had revealed his betrayal.
His voice, fierce and unapologetic.I did it to protect you.
I forgive you,she thought, gripping him tighter, trying to will his threads back into existence. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder, the touch featherlight.
Lena flinched and reached for what little magic she had left, ready to take her grief out on whatever cultist had been stupid enough toapproach her. But when she looked, she found Casimir standing over her, his dark eyes sympathetic as he held out his hand.
