“If you’re worried about what I’m going to do, don’t.” Halek waved a hand airily. “I’m sure I have something a reputable stable master would be willing to trade for. My bigger concern is, shouldn’t we be talking to someone instead of hiding out in the docks?”
“Talking to someone about what?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Halek said, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Maybe about Kovass falling and the Deathless King taking over? There could be an unstoppable army sailing across the Dust Sea as we speak. That seems like something the other kingdoms should know about.”
“Captain Arham will let the trade council know about the attack on Kovass,” Raithe replied, also in a low voice. “If he chooses to mention the return of the Deathless King, that is his prerogative. My mission is to get the Fateless to Irrikah. It is not my place to warn the other kingdoms—that decision is the queen’s.
“The Deathless King is powerful,” Raithe continued as Halek frowned, seeming on the verge of arguing. “But even he cannot mobilize an army in a single day. Especially after he just decimated a city and replaced it with his own. I suspect that is whythe ma’jhethave been using magic against Sparrow, not the king himself. He expended a massive amount of power that day, and is perhaps trying to forge and rebuild Kovass to his liking. I think we have time before he starts casting his gaze on the other kingdoms. Not much time, but a little.”
Halek sighed. “I don’t like it, but I guess there’s not much we can do. It’s not like I can march up to city hall and demand to see the council. From what I’ve heard, if they agree to see you inside a month, you’re lucky.” He glanced out the door, where, judging by the intense sunlight gleaming off the pale stone walls, it was very close to peak Demon Hour. The air within the dimly lit stone tavern wasn’t unbearably stifling, but it wasn’t cool, either. One of the barmaids was drawing wooden shutters over the windows to prevent light from trickling into the room. It was strangely comforting. Even across the Dust Sea, on the other side of the kingdom, Demon Hour was the same.
Climbing a narrow road that wound its way up the side of a rocky cliff was a new experience for me. In Kovass, even if I traveled by rooftop, the city itself was as flat as the surface of a mirror. I was impressed by the efficiency with which Damassi had been built; homes and buildings covered every horizontal space, poking out of walls and perching atop ledges. If there was no space for a structure, they managed to build one anyway.
Halek let out a sudden breath and leaned against a rocky outcropping that protected him from the suns. “Ah yes, Damassi’s wonderfully steep roads. I’d forgotten about them,” he panted, and glanced at Raithe. “Why are we going this way again?” heasked. “There’s nothing up here but the temple.”
I blinked. “Maederyss has a temple here?”
“Not exactly,” Raithe said. “The worship of Maederyss as a goddess is a mostly human tradition. In Damassi, she has many names and many forms. Most other races here still believe in Fate and the Weaver, but they see her as more of a servant of Fate instead of the goddess herself.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “But the Weaver is the one who determines your place in the Tapestry of the World,” I said. “Once it’s set, you can’t do anything to change it.”
A faint smile crossed the iylvahn’s face. “Try telling that to the troblin, who believe they can defy what Fate has planned if they burrow deep enough. Or the skin shifters, who change their names, their careers, their appearances, their entire lives several times a year, just to keep the Weaver guessing.” He glanced at Halek, still leaning casually against the outcropping. “Or the Fatechasers, who don’t wait for their destiny to come to them, but seek it out and embrace it themselves. Whatever it might bring. Do they take their fate into their own hands? Or are they simply following the path already set for them? No one, not even the Fatechasers themselves, knows for certain.”
“And believe me,” Halek said with a grin, “we’ve stopped trying to figure it out. The number of times I’ve caused a scholar or professor of Fate to pull his hair out would make your head spin.”
My thoughts felt tangled, and at that moment, reality seemed very fragile. I had always known what I was: a simple thief. I would never be a merchant, a noble, a warrior, a scholar, anything but a member of the Thieves Guild. I’d accepted that longago. And not only had I accepted it, I’d excelled at what Fate had decided for me. I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t a hero. I was a survivor. Until a few days ago, that had been enough. Now I didn’t know what I was, or what Icouldbe.
“The Temple of Fate sits atop this hill,” Raithe went on, gazing up the steep and narrow path, which zigzagged ever higher until it reached a massive rectangular building at the top. “The keepers there know the kahjaivery well. We’ll be safe to spend the night and head out in the morning.”
Damassi’s Temple of Fate was very different from the one in Kovass. For one, it was far smaller, as space atop the mountain plateau was limited. It was also much less grand; there were no ruby-eyed statues peering down from the roof, no golden candlesticks in the corners, no enormous statue of Maederyss holding the Tapestry of the World in the main hall. As we stepped inside the front chamber, a robed figure in white greeted us, her smile faltering when she laid eyes on Raithe. But she remained stiffly polite, telling us we were welcome in the temple and that there were rooms where we could spend the night if we wished. After leading us down a hall to a pair of simple wooden doors, she departed quickly, the hem of her robe swishing against the stones.
I glanced at the iylvahn. “The priestess didn’t seem happy to see you.”
Raithe shrugged one lean shoulder. “They never are. But there is an ancient agreement between the Temples of Fate and Sahmessyia, the iylvahn queen. The priestesses know that from time to time, a kahjaiis sent into the world to remove a weakthread from the tapestry, to stop the corruption before it can take hold. They know it is necessary, and so the Temples of Fate will shelter the kahjai, should they need it, but the kahjai are required to announce their presence to the temple if they are going to be doing work in the city.”
“Oh,” I said, remembering several things at once. “So that’s why you were talking to the high priestess in Kovass.”
One brow arched. “I thought I felt another presence in the temple that day,” he mused with a faint smile. “So thatwasyou, after all.” His soft chuckle made my stomach twist. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
That night, tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep.
The cot the temple provided was hard and uncomfortable, but I was used to that. The room was small, with narrow slits for windows, but compared to the tiny quarters on the sand strider, it was more space than I’d had in a while. But the thoughts swirling through my head refused to calm. So much had happened in a short amount of time. I was in Damassi, on the other side of the Dust Sea. Somewhere back beyond the sands, Kovass lay in ruins, along with everything I’d ever known. My old life was gone, and there was no returning to it. If I wasn’t a thief anymore, what was I?
My eyelids were heavy. Sleep tugged at me, but I resisted. I knew what would be waiting for me when I finally succumbed: Jeran’s lifeless body, the Circle surrounding me, calling for my death, and Vahn, standing there with the cold eyes of a stranger. It was strange; the Deathless King was terrifying, all-powerful,and I feared him the most, but when the nightmares came, Jeran, Vahn, and the Circle were the images that haunted me.
My chin dropped to my chest, and for a moment, my eyes closed. But then a soft tap on my door caused my heartbeat to intensify. Only Raithe would be knocking on my door this late.
I swung my legs off the cot, walked to the door, and pulled it open with a squeak of hinges.
“Hello, Sparrow,” said Vahn, smiling down at me. “I think we need to talk.”
Nineteen
I staggered back from the door, my heart no longer pounding but literally racing around my chest. All my survival instincts were screaming at me to run, but in the tiny room, there was nowhere to go. Vahn blocked the door, and the windows were too narrow for even me to slip through.
“You can relax, you know.” Vahn’s face still held that amused smile as he watched me; he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I wish only to talk to you.”
“How are you here?” I hissed at him. “There’s no way you could have crossed the Dust Sea that quickly.”