Page 62 of Love and Death
Descending the stairs, the rotten stench of their decay wafts up to assault me, but I do not falter. I can hear the creaking of their bones, the groan of the loom long before I see them, backs bent and haggard over the working of their threads.
Wretched creatures, one would think they were hanging on to immortality by a mere thread themselves.
I come to a standstill a few feet from the loom. Not one of them rises to greet me, nor even turn to acknowledge my presence.
“You are early.” The voice is disembodied, but I know it is Lachesis who speaks. “You should not be here.”
“We do not want you here,” Atropos hisses, her voice moving from one ear to the next.
“We had a deal,” I say, refusing to be put off.
“A bargain which you have yet to uphold,” Clotho says.
“Me? You think I am the one who has not followed through?” I say, my voice dark with fury.
“We do not think it,” Lachesis says.
“We know it,” Atropos finishes.
“Then you know nothing.”
“We have seen it,” Clotho says, her voice cold and emotionless.
“Then you have seen wrong.”
Lachesis’ eyes flash to my face, her voice sharp in my head. “Our ravens only speak truth.”
“Then yourravens, are blind.”
“The loom corroborates their cries,” Atropos adds.
“Death gave up his soul willingly, as you requested. He is dead. I saw him die before my very eyes,” I snarl, straightening to my full height and taking a threatening step toward them. “The loom lies. Yourthreadslie!”
“The loomneverlies,” Lachesis’ voice echoes in my mind. “Death’s soul still lingers.”
“It is still tethered,” the youngest hag repeats.
“Then, cut his thread.”
“We cannot. We have tried.”
“Did you destroy his body,” Atropos asks, her voice dead of emotion.
“I intend to. Everything is being prepped for the event as we—”
“Prepared?” Clotho scoffs.
“King of the Underworld, and yet you knownothing!” the oldest of them screeches. “You have deceived yourself.You should have torn him to pieces and burned him to ash the moment he fell!”
“His thread cannot be severed until he is unraveled,” Clotho adds, her soulless eyes snapping to me.
I clench my jaw, my hands working into fists at my sides. How dare she speak to me,Godof the Underworld, like I am one of her puppets.
What I would give to wring their necks with my bare hands. Did I not bring downDeathhimself? A feat they could never have dreamed of accomplishing on their own.
I force my hands to relax, force myself not to walk over and toss them from the gaping hole in the wall of this retched place.
I will not forget this slight.
