I suppressed a wince. Now, on top of meeting the queen, learning what it meant to be Fateless, and perhaps stopping a literal god from destroying the kingdoms, I was supposed to prove my worth to a giant insect?
Sometimes I wished I could just be that simple thief again.
“Sparrow.”
Vahn stood before me in the robes of the ma’jhet, a bloody dagger clutched loosely in one hand. Bodies lay strewn around him, corpses of people I’d once known. Jeran, of course, lay at his feet, throat cut open, glassy eyes staring at me accusingly. The first life I had watched Vahn destroy. A thief named Dahveen sprawled a few feet away, the hilt of a sword jutting from his back.A large man called Bassig lay with his chest sliced open, scarred arms flung akimbo, beady eyes wide with shock. And the body of a woman, her dark hair wet with blood, slumped against the side of a building with her head bowed. I remembered Rala’s gentle smile whenever I came into her bar, the stories she used to tell me, and my heart felt as heavy as a mountain.
“You killed them,” I accused Vahn. “You and your Deathless King. You killed them all.”
“And you killed me,” Vahn returned. His eyes were dark, his voice low and calm as he held my gaze. “So how are we any different?”
He tossed the dagger at my feet, where it landed with a thump and a spray of blood. I looked down and found the blade clutched in my hand, my skin stained with blood nearly to my elbow.
“You could have come home, Sparrow.” Vahn’s voice was a whisper into my heart. I looked up and saw him standing in the same place, only the black robes were gone, replaced with a simple tunic and hood as familiar to me as my own. He was no longer Vahn, leader of the ma’jhet; he was the Guildmaster of Kovass. The father figure I had known my entire life. Or I thought I had.
“I wanted you to come home,” the Guildmaster went on. “We could have done so much, healed the world together. But you chose them over me. To put your faith in a group of strangers, rather than the man who was with you your whole life. What did I tell you about trust? It will destroy you in the end. Just like you destroyed me.”
The scene shifted, or I might’ve glanced away, because when I looked at him again, Vahn was dead. The hilt of a daggerprotruded from his chest, and his dark eyes gazed sightlessly into mine.
My vision blurred with tears. I blinked hard to clear them away, and when I opened my eyes, I was staring at a star-filled predawn sky.
I slumped and ran a hand over my face. Another dream. They were so common now, I couldn’t even close my eyes anymore without seeing someone or something from my old life. Jeran, Vahn, the ma’jhet, the Deathless King; I would see one or more of them every night, and every night, people would die. At least the dreams were of the normal variety now, not the magical, heart-stopping nightmares the servants of the Deathless King had used against me in the past. Thanks to the magical tattoos of the Scarab Clan, I was no longer in danger of sleepwalking to my death, but I certainly didn’t feel like going back to sleep.
Shifting to my side, I gazed around the campsite. Across a glowing firepit, Halek slept undisturbed in his sleeping bag. I could tell it was Halek from the gleam of bright hair and the snores coming from beneath the covers. Kysa, I had discovered, didn’t sleep lying down. Always prepared, the warriors of the Scarab Clan slept upright with their weapons in hand, ready to spring into action if needed. I spotted the insect rider sitting with her back against a large rock, chin on her chest and her spear leaning against her shoulder.
Raithe’s sleeping bag, I suddenly noticed, was empty.
Blinking, I sat up and gazed around the camp for the iylvahn. Exhaustion clawed at me, and for the briefest moment, old fears and suspicions reared their ugly heads. Had Raithe abandonedus and gone ahead to Irrikah? Had he left to tell his queen we were coming?
Stop it, I told myself. I shook my head, dissolving the doubt searching for a foothold into my heart.Raitheisn’t like that, and you know it. He promised he would take you toIrrikah. He isn’t like Vahn.
Vahn.
My throat closed up, and my eyes stung. Across the firepit, Halek stirred, his snores faltering for a few breaths. Afraid that I would wake him, I pushed back the covers and stood, shivering in the desert air. Without the warmth of the suns, the sand was cold, the air prickling my skin as I walked several paces from the camp.
Finding a large, flat rock, I sat down and gazed out over the steppes, hugging my forearms for warmth. Beneath the single crescent moon, I could just make out the hazy outline of the Maze, the formidable, confusing labyrinth of canyons, cliffs, and mountain passes that marked the end of the Barren Steppes. Somewhere within that sprawling tangle of canyon and rock lay Irrikah, the hidden city of the iylvahn. Where the queen waited to speak to the Fateless.
Shivering, I turned one arm over and pushed back my sleeve, revealing the elegant swirls of green ink crawling up my skin. Tattoos from the Scarab Clan lore keeper that both marked me as a member of the clan and protected me from the magic of the ma’jhet, the servants of the Deathless King. Magic thatVahnhad used against me. Scrying, manipulation, even possession; Vahn had shown no qualms about using the most evil of tactics to getme where he wanted. He had nearly killed me and my companions multiple times before we’d finally sought help from the clan.
But there would be no more attacks against me, at least not from Vahn. He was gone now. After his most recent assault on the Scarab Clan using an army of abominations and undead, I had met the Guildmaster of Kovass face-to-face on the battlefield. And I had killed him.
My vision blurred, and a drop splashed onto my arm and ran down the lines of ink. Bowing my head, I closed my eyes and tried to muffle the quiet sobbing, feeling like a fist was squeezing my insides. Vahn had lied to me my whole life. He had brought back the Deathless King and had manipulated, tormented, even tried to kill me. But for seventeen years, he had been my only family, the only person I’d ever tried to make proud.
Now he was dead. By my hand. And the Deathless King was still out there, ready to conquer the world.
I heard soft footfalls, which surprised me until I realized hewantedme to hear his approach. A heartbeat later, a hand touched my arm, gentle fingers curling over my wrist. Blinking, I looked up and found Raithe kneeling in front of me, pale blue eyes solemn beneath his hood. He met my gaze, not speaking, not offering sympathy or condolences; his eyes said everything I needed to hear. For a moment, I turned away, embarrassed. I had grown up in the Thieves Guild, where moments of weakness were shunned or exploited. And Vahn had been a servant of the Deathless King, who had tried to kill us all; I wasn’t sure if Raithe would understand why I would shed tears for him. Truthfully, I wasn’t certain, myself.
“It isn’t wrong to mourn him.”
Raithe’s voice was low and feather soft, brushing over my skin. I peeked up, and his gaze was only sympathetic. “All threads affect each other in the Weave,” he went on, referring to the great Tapestry of the World, where all souls were bound together by Maederyss, Goddess of Fate. “They are woven together in ways no one can anticipate or predict. When one thread is removed, for good or ill, every thread around it is changed. Everything that it touched is affected.” His other hand came up and gently brushed tears from my skin, sending a shiver all the way down my spine. “It is never wrong to grieve the cutting of a thread, even if removing that thread was essential to the rest of the Tapestry.”
I swallowed and took a shaky breath to compose myself. “I still see him in my dreams,” I admitted. “Before, he was always trying to kill me. But now I’m the one...” My hands shook, and I clenched them against my knees. “Do they ever stop?” I whispered.
“Eventually,” Raithe murmured. “One day, you won’t see him in your dreams any longer. But the scars will still be there. In time, they’ll fade, and they won’t hurt as much. But cutting a thread from the Weave...” One of his hands drifted to his own chest, as if he could feel a wound just beneath his skin. “It’s like Maederyss marks your soul so that you never forget.”
My heart pounded. I was still getting used to this... sudden understanding, with Raithe. The realization that there was something between us, something that made my pulse race and my insides turn in wild circles when he was close. Acknowledging the wildest part—that he could feel the same way about me—wasunnerving and terrifying, and it still made me want to slip into the shadows and disappear, but I was trying to be more open with Raithe. It was hard, lowering my guard, letting someone in; everyone from my old life I’d lost to betrayal. Vahn himself had warned me, multiple times, not to trust anyone. Not to depend on anything but myself. But I trusted Raithe. And Halek, and Kysa. If that came back to haunt me in the future, so be it. I would deal with it when it happened. Tonight, I wanted to believe that, whatever this was, whatever I had with him, it was real.
Raithe was still watching me, his gaze soft. My hand rose and gently touched the side of his face, and he closed his eyes.
