Page 5 of Fateless

I was committing blasphemy after blasphemy today. In my next life I would probably come back as a sand beetle.

Crouching behind another pillar, I observed the statue, searching for the best way to scale it. The stone robes had several folds and creases that would make for easy handholds, so it wouldn’t be difficult. I had climbed walls that were smoother.

I took a final glance around the room, making sure I was still alone, then sprinted across the floor to the statue and leaped onto its robes. Without pausing, I scrambled up the carved stone hand over hand, deliberately not thinking about anything to dowith Fate. I reached the goddess’s knees, then carefully made my way over to the cloth draped over her fingers.

Up close, the weave was even more beautiful, the golden and silver threads glimmering as I reached for one of the edges. Because I wore gloves, I couldn’t feel the texture of the weave, but the fabric was surprisingly light. Reaching into my belt, I pulled free one of my daggers and raised it toward the shimmering cloth.

My gut prickled. I froze, the tip of my blade hovering over the tapestry, as a shiver went through me and the hair on my arms stood up. It was the same feeling I got when I was on a job and I could sense a guard’s footsteps approaching. I didn’t know how I knew, but I never questioned the instinct. Something, or someone, was coming.

Reflexively, I ducked behind the only cover I could see—the dangling edge of the Tapestry of the World. Pressing myself into Maederyss’s wrist, I peered through the folds of cloth and gazed across the chamber.

A hooded figure dressed in a loose white tunic and cowl appeared in the temple doorway and walked down the center aisle toward the statue. The guards paid them no mind; I wasn’t even sure they’d seen the stranger come in. Their footfalls made no sound against the stones, and they moved with an easy, almost predatory grace. My heart pounded, and I went motionless against the statue, hoping to blend into the stone like a desert chameleon. If I had hesitated a moment longer beside the tapestry, I would’ve been seen.

Below me, I heard the squeak of a door opening, and thenlight footfalls padded across the room toward the stranger. “Is that you, kahjai?” came the quiet voice of what had to be one of the priestesses.

Moving as slowly as a rock tortoise, I peered down and saw that the stranger had stopped in front of the statue. They were tall, though from this angle I couldn’t see any of their features. A curved sword hung at their waist, its copper hilt glittering in the dim light.

“It is, High Priestess.” The stranger’s voice was low and deep. “Apologies for coming out during... Demon Hour is what your people call it, correct?”

“Yes, but do not apologize. It is an honor to have one of the kahjai visit us today.”

I couldn’t see the priestess, but her voice was stiff, as if she were reciting something she didn’t really believe. Her footsteps stopped below the statue, but I couldn’t see her over the stone edge of Maederyss’s knee. The stranger took a step forward, facing the priestess in front of the statue, though their hood was still drawn up, their face hidden by the fabric.

“Are we alone here?” the stranger asked. “We are not in danger of being overheard?”

“The rest of the sisters are asleep or in meditation,” the Ahsani, the high priestess of the temple, replied, and I imagined her waving a billowy sleeve toward the back of the chamber. “No one will venture out until after Demon Hour, so our privacy is ensured.”

“As you say.” The figure raised a hand and brushed back his hood, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp of surprise.

I had never left Kovass. My entire life had been spent within its limestone walls, and for most people, the city was more than large enough that they never dreamed of seeing the world outside its borders. Especially since everyoneknewwhat lay beyond. The wastelands, rocky, barren, and scorching, stretched away to the south until they hit the horizon. To the north was the great Dust Sea, the endless expanse of roiling, shifting sands that swallowed anything heavier than a scroll. Great sand ships or huge mechanical walkers known as striders were needed to cross Dust Sea, and they returned with exotic goods and wild tales of the lands beyond. Stories of people who traveled the desert on the backs of giant beetles, who used the monstrous insects like we used donkeys and oxen. Of clans whose warriors were half feline, with sharp claws and teeth and eyes that could see in the dark.

And then there were stories of the iylvahn.

A mysterious, reclusive people, the iylvahn were said to live in a magnificent city across the Dust Sea that no other race had seen the inside of. They were secretive and long-lived, and they hoarded knowledge like dust mice hoarded seeds. According to common consensus, the iylvahn were universally graceful, elegant, and beautiful, man and woman alike. They had charcoal or blue-gray complexions, strange-colored eyes, and pale hair. But their most distinguishing feature was their ears, which were slender and pointed like a Cyrian dagger.

Below me, the stranger lowered his arms, revealing high cheekbones, twilight colored skin, and slender ears shaped like the curved dagger in my boot. His short hair was white, almost silver, but the face below was young and shockingly beautiful,just like the stories said. His eyes were a pale, pale blue and glowed softly, like the nimbus of light around the moon.

“The queen of Irrikah sends her regards,” the iylvahn said, his deep voice sending shivers up and down my spine. “Out of respect for you and your position, I ask permission to be within the city.”

“It is granted,” said the high priestess, sounding very formal, “as long as your blade does not sever the threads still being woven.”

I bit my bottom lip, thinking of my mission, and how I still had to “sever the threads” in the very tapestry providing my hiding spot. I hoped this was simply coincidence and not some sort of omen.

“It is not my place,” said the iylvahn, sounding equally formal. “I am the blade that cuts the blight from the tree and the weak threads from the Weave. Nothing more or less.”

“Good.” The high priestess’s voice was tight, her facade of politeness fading. “I know the queen believes your work is necessary, and I will not ask the details of your mission, but I have not seen anything of this darkness she speaks of. The empire that lies beneath us is naught but dust and bones and sand. The Deathless Kings are long forgotten.”

A chill slid up my back.The Deathless Kings?What did a children’s faery tale have to do with the iylvahn? I remembered hearing a story of the Deathless Kings once, long ago, when I was very small. It had been frightening, so frightening that it had kept me from going to sleep for two nights straight, thinking a Deathless King might slither out from under my bed and dragme down to his dark kingdom. Vahn had finally explained that the Deathless Kings had once ruled the world, but they had vanished thousands of years ago, and the stories left behind were mostly used to scare naughty children.

I was a child then, so it might’ve been my imagination, but that night Vahn had seemed almost... angry. Not at me, but at the man who had told the story of the Deathless Kings. My childish fears had faded, though I couldn’t remember seeing that thief in the guild ever again.

“I do not question the queen’s orders,” the iylvahn said in a voice dead of emotion. “She said a darkness sleeps under Kovass, and it will rise unless certain threads are cut from the Weave. I am here to make certain it is done.”

The high priestess sighed. “Go, then,” she said. “Do your job quickly and return to your people. A kahjai in Kovass only invites death.”

Kahjai. I didn’t know what that was, but it was clear the high priestess did not approve of them. Though her tone quickly switched back to formal. “May your time with us be brief, may your blade cut true, and may you return to the shadows before any realize you exist.”

The iylvahn bowed. Without answering, he pulled up his hood, then turned as if to walk away.

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