“I know you will stand with her when she goes to faceoneDeathless,” Kysa went on, turning back to Raithe. “But what of the other? What if she must become an enemy of both? What happens if the Deathless queen decides that the Fateless holds too much power and is too much of a risk to her own kingdom? What will you do then?”
Raithe didn’t answer for a long time. I was frozen, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Kysa, in her straightforward, pragmatic way, was forcing Raithe to make the choice that terrified me. If the time came, who would he stand with? Me—a girl he’d known for only a short while—or the immortal queen he had served for hundreds of years?
The iylvahn finally took a quiet breath. “If that happens,” Raithe said slowly, “then... I will die. The queen holds the threads of all iylvahn in her hands. All it would take is a thought, and I would be nothing but dust.
“But... to answer your question,” Raithe went on, his words coming a little more haltingly now. “Were the Fateless to become an enemy of the queen, and I had to make a choice... In that one instant before I was killed... my choice would be with Sparrow.”
My vision blurred. Relief and terror swelled within me like a storm, tearing at my insides. He had chosen me. I had desperately hoped he would, but at the same time, if the queen did turn against us, I would lose him either way.
Kysa sighed, leaning back against the rock again. A look of reluctant approval and regret crossed her face as she gave Raithe a nod. “I’ve misjudged you, kahjai,” she muttered. “My hatred for the Deathless might have blinded me until now. For that, you have my apologies. I would... be proud to stand with you against the Deathless, whichever one we must face.”
Raithe shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Kysa,” he said, though I could hear the relief in his voice. Turning, he held out a hand to me, and I snapped myself out of my daze to hand him the potion. He gave me a brief smile before turning back to the insect rider. “What matters now is getting you back on your feet. We’re going to need you with us when we face the Deathless King.”
“I doubt that, kahjai,” Kysa said. “One warrior will not be able to turn the tide against a Deathless.” She reached out with her other arm and took the vial from his fingers. “But I appreciate the thought.” She glanced in my direction, then at the temple behind us. “We waste time here. You and Sparrow need to get to the loom. The Deathless King will not wait, and neither will the abomination that is still hunting us. I... cannot help you now. I will only slow you down.”
“Kysa, we’re not going to leave you here alone.”
Halek stepped forward, carrying several rolls of gauze, and sank to his knees on her other side. For once, his face was dead serious as he looked at Raithe. “I’ll stay with her,” he said.
“Halek...”
He met my gaze, blue eyes intense. “This isn’t our story, Fateless,” he said. “But Kysa is right—you need to reach the loom. Don’t worry about us too much.” A smile quirked his mouth. “I’m not convinced our fate is to die on the steps to the temple of the Deathless. That would be a very anticlimactic end to our story. So, get going.” He jerked his head toward the temple steps. “We’ll see you again when you have the power of a goddess, and then I’m sure things will get even more interesting.”
“Sparrow.” Kysa’s voice stopped me from responding. “Before you go, will you check on Rhyne for me?” the insect rider asked. “I wasn’t able to see the severity of his wounds. If he is injured, I need to know how badly.” She paused and moment, then added, “It would be prudent to check Ratuk as well... to see if his wing has been permanently damaged.”
I nodded. Heart in my throat, I went to the rock beetles. Both stood beneath a crumbling stone overhang, heads down as they huddled together. Rhyne snorted and tossed his head as I approached, agitated and impatient. I reached up and put a hand on his carapace.
“Easy, Rhyne,” I whispered, as the rock beetle huffed, turning a shiny black eye on me. “She’ll be all right, I promise.” He snorted again, but seemed to calm slightly. I rubbed his carapace, wincing as bits of it flaked off like ash beneath my palm. But the shell was still whole beneath the charred exterior. I shook my head and patted his horn, and he rumbled in approval.
“You are the toughest beetle in Arkyennah,” I told him. “Kysa is lucky to have you.”
He tossed his head once more, as if telling me he already knew that. I smiled and moved on to my own beetle.
“Hey, Ratuk,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against the base of his horn. “You were amazing back there. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you fly sooner.”
He nudged me gently. I scratched his chin and pulled back to look at him, examining the many small burns that speckled his carapace. Much like Rhyne’s, they seemed to be surface level, bits of shell flaking off and drifting to the ground when I rubbed at them. Fearfully, I gave the command to open his wings, and he did, extending the transparent green membranes out to either side.
I blew out a breath of relief. The gash in his wing was still there, but it was only a little larger than before. Miraculously, he had made it through that hellish obstacle course, dodging lava and giant worms trying to kill us, without tearing it completely.
“You’re a champion, Ratuk,” I told him, taking a step back. “Stay here. You too, Rhyne. Protect Kysa and Halek. I’ll be back soon.”
Ratuk gave a soft rumble. Rhyne snorted in disapproval but didn’t follow as I walked back to Kysa and Halek. The insect rider still lay against the rock, but her eyes were closed, one arm draped over her stomach, which rose and fell with shallow breaths. Halek was studiously bandaging her injured arm, wrapping gauze around the terrible burns on her skin. He didn’t notice as I approached, his focus entirely on the insect rider. In the Fatechaser’s gaze, I saw concern, sympathy... and something I couldn’t place. He didn’t look up as my shadow fell overthem, but Kysa’s eyes fluttered open, fixing on me.
“The beetles?”
“They’re both fine,” I told her, and she nodded, sinking back against the rock.
“Go, then,” she said shortly. “We will join you if we’re able, but you need to finish this quest, Fateless. Do not come back until you have the loom.”
With one final look at the pair, the grievously injured yet proud insect rider and the Fatechaser wearing an expression I had never seen on him before, I turned and walked toward the temple of the Deathless Kings.
Raithe waited for me at the foot of the stairs with Meeka perched on his shoulder, that tufted tail beating an impatient rhythm against the iylvahn’s collarbone.
“Meeka? You’re coming too?”
The jair’oa twitched his whiskers at me. “Meeka promised Meeka would guide Fateless to goddess loom,” he said, sounding slightly offended. “Fateless not at loom yet.”
“All right, then.” I looked at Raithe, who gazed at me with that unreadable expression on his face. “I’m ready. Let’s get on with this.”
