He shrugged a shoulder with a half-smile.
“You haven’t made a bargain in . . .”
“Centuries,” he said, this time with a full smile on his stupid face.
He had me, and he knew it.
“Terms?” I spit.
“I’ll save her, your daughter, but you will owe me two favors.” He put two fingers up before lowering them as he continued to speak. “The first will be collected now, the second at a future time of my choosing.” He waved his ring-covered fingers about lazily, as if conducting something only he could see.
Which may actually be accurate, considering he wove the Strings of Fate and Time.
“Fine,” I said.
“Don’t you want to hear what I want of you, first?” He sat up in his chair, head cocked to the side.
“No. I don’t care what you ask of me. Just save her.” I was desperate and pleading. Fate could have asked for quite literally anything—my life, that of my siblings, the destruction of this world—and I would’ve given it to him.
“Interesting,” he hummed, seemingly lost in thought.
“What is it you require?” I asked, tired of his games and riddles. His answer was immediate.
Bastard planned this.
“You will leave the North and go into hiding somewhere in the Border Territories. Your daughter will eventually be delivered to your location, but she will not know you. You will not raise her and will be forced to watch her grow, love, suffer, all without the ability to tell her of her identity. This is imperative for what I have planned.” The color drained from my face. To watch her grow and not be able to hug her? Love her? It would be torture.
Tears sprung to my eyes.
“Is that all?” I asked thickly, and probably dumbly.
“No, that is the first part. The second part is that you will protect these with your very life.” He gestured, and three objects appeared, shimmering in the air and floating between us. The first was a thick but plain book, the second, a singular clear crystal, and the third, a dagger so black it seemed to suck the light from theroom. Individually, they radiated their own unique power signatures, but together they felt cataclysmic.
I reached for the book, drawn to it, and my father smiled wickedly.
It felt like . . . me.
I pulled my hand back as if burned.
“Are these . . .?” I whispered, unable to complete my thought, and Fate simply grinned manically.
“Like I said, daughter, protect them with your life. There will be a need for them later. I’ll tell you what and when at some other point. For now, hide them. And hide them well.”
I shook as the objects floated toward me, and gulped as they came to rest in my hands, settling one on top of the other.
A bright light encased me as soon as the objects were secure in my grasp, and I opened my eyes to see the interior of my hut.
The artifacts felt less heady here, like their signatures were muted somehow. I quickly shoved them into a pack before dressing in my furs, cramming my feet into thick boots, and shouldering the pack. I said my goodbyes to the people I’d made my family in the North and started my trek south.
Something was coming, of that much I was certain.
If Fate was scheming and playing, then my siblings were as well.
The last Godswar eliminated not just my other siblings, but most of the people in Elyria as well.
I only hoped that this time, there’d be far fewer casualties.
In fact, I’d make sure of it.
