“No,” he said without hesitation. “There is a reason no one knows their fate. That kind of knowledge will easily drive you mad. Maybe someone like Halek would be fine, but for most of us, it would become an obsession.” He shivered, arms tightening around me. “I don’t want to know my fate,” he murmured. “I just know that the time I have now is a blessing from the Weaver. It’s what I do with the time before my thread is cut that matters.”
I nodded, though my thoughts felt tangled. The Fateless had no fate, no destiny. What did it mean, if I had no thread in the Weave? If the goddess who wove the Tapestry of the World didn’t even know I existed?
“Whatever you’re thinking, try not to worry about it tonight.” Raithe’s voice brushed against my ear, low and soft. One hand slipped below the quilt, long fingers gently squeezing my arm. “Sleep, Sparrow,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Leaning against Raithe, I let myself relax, and finally let sleep take me.
After another hour of practice in the faint light of the dawn, I finally got the hang of flying.
“Good!” Kysa called, swooping past me with Rhyne. “Yes, that is how to make him hover. Now order him to descend.”
“Down, Ratuk,” I called, making sure to use the firm voice Kysa insisted on. The rock beetle immediately sank straight back toward the hard-packed earth.
“Ascend!” Kysa ordered.
I grabbed the saddle horn and leaned back, careful not to simply throw myself backward and cause the beetle to zip into the sky. Ratuk instantly changed directions, flying upward with the hum of translucent wings. I leaned slightly to the left, and he turned, flying around to face Kysa, who gave me a nod of approval.
“I think you have it,” she said. “Or at least, I am no longer afraid Ratuk will fly off with you and not come back. That happens, sometimes, with rock beetles who don’t respect their rider. Or they try to shake them off in midair.” She gave a tight smile that showed she was not joking in the slightest. “But you seem to have learned at least the basics of flying, so order him to land.”
I did, and the rock beetle easily drifted down until all six legs touched the cracked earth of the Barren Steppes. I slid out of the saddle as Ratuk folded his wings beneath his carapace, translucent green membranes vanishing under the rock-hard shell.
“Good boy,” I whispered, giving that carapace a pat. Ratuk snorted and raised his head, more interested in a dead branch poking out of a boulder than me.
I turned, meeting Raithe’s eyes as he and Halek joined us. The iylvahn gave me a nod and a small smile. “Well done,” he said quietly, as my insides warmed with approval. “I’m glad our shared curse with giant insects doesn’t extend to rock beetles.”
A chuckle escaped me. Twice in our journeys together, we had been attacked by large, aggressive insects, and we’d ended up saving each other from certain death on both occasions. One had been the frenzied swarm of bloodthirsty fire-jaw ants; the other had been an enormous spider-scorpion abomination sent by minions of the Deathless King to kill us all. Both cases had been terrifying; I was glad Rhyne and Ratuk were gentle giants. Or at least, more interested in chewing on rocks and trees than our bones.
Halek grinned and cast a glance at Solasti, the first sun climbing slowly into the cloudless sky. “Well, now that we have two beetles to ride, do you think we can reach the Maze before Demon Hour?”
Kysa raised a brow at him. Demon Hour was that point in time when both suns shone directly overhead, turning everything beneath them into a shimmering landscape of heat and misery. No one wanted to be caught outside during Demon Hour, as the heat could blister your skin and cook the very air in your lungs. Out on the Barren Steppes, it was even worse; there was little shade and very few crags and crannies to hide in. Traveling at night was impractical as, depending on the season, true dark lasted only four to five hours. The twins were jealous rulers of the sky, loathe to leave it for long. So if you couldn’t find shelter during Demon Hour, the result would be a very slow, agonizing death beneath the relentless glare of the tyrant suns.
Fortunately, Kysa had a tent, and the two rock beetles seemed the only creatures alive who could withstand the heat. Still, even under shelter, I didn’t want to have to go through Demon Hour out on the steppes if we could avoid it.
Raithe gazed toward the horizon, where the hazy line of cliffs could barely be seen in the glare of the sun. “I expect we’ll reach the edge of the Maze before Demon Hour,” he said. “Unfortunately, from there, we’ll have to walk, but at least we’ll be sheltered from the twins inside the Maze.”
“Walk?” Halek blinked. “We have giant flying bugs. Why not just fly into Irrikah? I know we can’t fly long distances, but it won’t be that much farther, will it?”
“You can’t,” Raithe said calmly. “Irrikah lies at the center of the labyrinth, and it’s protected by the magic of the queen. Even if you fly over the Maze, you won’t see the city. The only way into Irrikah is through the Maze, and only if you have an iylvahn guiding you. Outsiders won’t be able to find the entrance, no matter how hard they search.”
“Ah,” said Halek, nodding. “That makes sense. Also explains why the iylvahn city has remained hidden, even after all this time.” He stretched and glanced at the two rock beetles waiting patiently behind us. “Well, the day’s not getting any longer, and we’re wasting suns’ light. Shall we go? I’ve always wanted to see Irrikah—there are so few stories about it, and I want to see if it lives up to its mysteriousness.”
I suppressed a wince. There were so few stories about Irrikah because everyone who visited the mysterious iylvahn city forgot nearly everything about it when they left. According toRaithe, the only memory any non-iylvahn would keep of Irrikah was that it existed, somewhere in the Maze. But everything within the city—the layout, the people, what it looked like—would fade from memory and be lost.
It was all part of the magic the queen used to keep her people safe. And yet another reason to fear her.
Raithe glanced at me, and perhaps he saw the emotion in my eyes, for his brow furrowed and he stepped closer. “Will you be able to do this, Sparrow?” he asked. “Can you fly us to the edge of the Maze?”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” I told him. I had promised myself I would stop running, even from things that terrified me. Besides, I was tired of the uncertainty. I wanted to know, once and for all, if I was the Fateless or just the insignificant thief I had been all my life. Meeting the iylvahn queen wouldn’t be nearly as frightening as confronting the Deathless King. At least she wasn’t trying to kill me.
I hoped.
Kysa made a sharp clicking noise, and the two rock beetles stopped what they were doing and turned, huffing, to face us. “Let us go, then,” she said, and swung easily into Rhyne’s saddle. “I know I said that flying a rock beetle for long periods of time was impractical, but we can at least get a head start on the twins.” Glancing down at us, she held out an arm. “Fatechaser, you’re with me.”
Halek grabbed the arm and swung into the saddle behind Kysa. “I guess now isn’t a good time to admit I have a fear of heights,” he said with a wry grin.
Kysa shook her head. “Not at all,” she replied. “It won’t change anything. If you start to feel queasy, I suggest closing your eyes.”
I swung into Ratuk’s saddle and felt Raithe settle easily behind me. His arms wrapped around my waist as he leaned close, his calm, steady breathing comforting against my back. Across from me, Kysa gave a single nod. At our spoken command, the rock beetles rose into the air, their wings a constant drone in our ears, and we flew off toward the distant mountains.
