Page 10 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

Time rubbed her chin in thought. I flexed my fingers, nails biting into my palms as she hummed to herself, each second that passed dropping into the center of my belly like small bolts of iron. “From you, mortal, I would take the weeks you stole from me.”

Mihauna, my ankle burned. I pressed my teeth together, inviting the pain elsewhere. Begging my bones to carry it into other muscles instead. But it remained where it was, thick and hot, radiating into my lower leg. “I would make that payment and give you those weeks at the end of my life.”

Time watched me askance, the corners of her mouth a sharp smile. “I want them now.”

My brows furrowed. I couldn’t pay her those weeks now. I only had three days. She cocked her head slyly at me, eyes twinkling, and I wondered if she knew I couldn’t take her bargain. Her edges ticked, pulsing as though Time were an ocean tide. Coming and going, filching small bits of rock and sand with each retreat until what was once significant and whole suddenly erased. I straightened, disappointment threading through my shoulders. I knew better than to make a deal with Time.

Time was a trickster. A swindler. As deceitful as Darkness.

She guessed my answer well enough as my eyes passed to Truth. Of the Fates, Truth’s stars were the clearest, and she waited solemnly for me to ask, “What payment could I make to you for my passage?”

Truth took less time to consider my question than her sister. She blinked at me, somehow earnest and unendearing all at once. “From you, mortal, I would take the truths you hold most dear. You could complete your task without recollecting why. Give me the memories of your bond, your heritage, your station, and I will grant you passage.”

My fingers found the corners of my waist. I clasped them over my hip bones, the disappointment at my shoulders now trickling through my spine like sand in an hourglass.

“How will I know to complete my task without any memory of it?” I asked. Time cocked her head with a patient smile at me. Truth made no move to answer. Frustration licked my skin in sharp strokes. “You don’t care if I succeed,” I hissed. “Your payments will completely disarm me. I didn’t choose to steal weeks from you, or to let Kye see my Naiad tail. I didn’t choose to find this stone, or bond by saving a life, or fight a giant monster at the bottom of the sea. Those things were chosen for me when my mother lit a candle.”

“Offer your payment or return to the living,” Truth said, her stars not even bothering to flicker in response. “Take your mortal complaints along with you. We have been here before the dawn of life. We have heard these protests before. Do not pretend you intend to remain in Perpetuum. We know you plan to steal two lives back with you. You will not fool the Morai into an agreement with a lax fee.”

I sighed, though that hardly described the harsh burst of breath that shook its way out through my teeth. Something in my gut churned and clenched as I finally looked at Love. I trusted her the least.

Perhaps because I’d spent most of my life believing she’d turned me away. Shone her light on everyone else, leaving me in the dark. Perhaps because even in the moments her name had fit so easily in my mouth, I hadn’t had enough time to trust saying it out loud. Perhaps because I knew that although she’d offer me the only deal I might afford, her toll would be the steepest.

I swallowed softly, bare toes digging into the silver dust just beyond where Death lay. Love met my eyes, her nebulas swirling slowly inside her, blooming and arching and dying in chaotic vibrancy. “What payment could I give you for letting me cross the sea of stars?”

Love giggled, chin tucking into her shoulders as though I’d paid her a compliment. “Young mortal. You already know.”

I rocked my head back, wishing I could lean on something. A whirlpool of dread stirred through my center, hard and heavy and foul. But I held her burning gaze as stars exploded slowly behind her eyes. Astral. Eternal. I finally nodded.

“You want my corda-cruor.”

6

Maren

Love smoldered before me, the edges of her stars brimming with anticipation. “Clever little queen,” she said, lacing her fingers together against the side of her jaw and gazing fondly down at me.

It broke. It broke. It broke.

My ankle rolled under my weight. Air shot through my teeth as I stumbled, a growl ripping from my chest to mask the anger pricking the corners of my eyes. I clamped down a grimace, ignoring the shots of pain that lanced through my bone. I was wasting my moon-damned time standing here with the Fates. Wasting my strength as well. “I thought my cordae was already taken from me. I felt it break,” I said, dropping to a murmur, “when he died.”

“A Naiad’s corda-cruor merely fractures when one of them crosses the sea of stars while the other lives on. That is why you cannot reach him now.” Love gestured to my ring. “But your cordae is still intact. Once you join each other in the afterworld, you will hear his thoughts again.”

“Even if I fully sever our cordae now?”

Truth tsked. “The soul rings you wear were not forged by a cordae. They were forged by a joining. His thoughts will return, should you continue to wear them.”

Death lifted ethereally from the sand, soaring to the gash at my leg. The Fates watched, their calculative eyes sharp.

“Can she make the cross with an injury such as that one?” Time asked her sisters, raising a starry brow.

“Yes,” I ground out, fixing my stare back on Love. “Tell me about your offer. Would my cordae be severed forever?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Love giggled, twisting a finger through her nebula hair. “Naiads mate for life. Your cordae his lived his life and died. You seek to cross the sea of stars with Death as your guide. Your lives would begin anew, were you to return to the living.”

She batted her lashes at me, and I waited, knowing it could not be as easy as she made it sound. Her words seemed simple enough, close enough to the answer I wanted. But I needed something more direct.

“Tread carefully, young Naiad,” Truth said, watching my gaze sink into her sister. “She might be the most enchanting, but Love is the cruelest Fate.”