Page 92 of Crown of Olympus
As sure as I’ve ever been about anything,I replied. His presence retreated to a dark corner of my mind.
As Nyssa rushed from the chamber, I smiled. A sense of rightness settled over me.
I wandered forward, fingers brushing silent strings until one made a sound. A warm hum rang out. A sickly-sweet sound that reminded me of a sticky, caramel-filled pocket. I laughed softly to myself, remembering that day in the woods.
Gripping the golden strand with my left hand, I slashed upwards sharply with my right, cutting the note in two.
Before it could disintegrate, I reached up and pulled down the thread I had marked as Nyssa’s. Our strings were alreadyso close together, running parallel as if Fate had always intended it.
The three sisters gasped, but none of them moved to stop me as I determinedly wove my severed thread into her unbroken one. My fingers worked quickly, instinctively, as I quite literally tied my fate to hers.
When I was done, I plucked the now-bound strings, curious to hear how they sounded together. A harmonious duality shattered the silence — two notes weaving around each other like they were always supposed to be played that way. A breath caught in my throat, emotion clogging it. My lower lip quivered in response. I took comfort in the fact that whatever came next, I would face it alongside her.
Together.
“Do you know what you have done, boy?”the sisters whispered.
“I do.”
“Then you understand that your fate has become hers. Your life is now tied to the child of death, until her thread is severed.”
I nodded once.
“Interesting,”they mused.“We did not foresee this. You were supposed to sever your thread and leave it at that. You were supposed to die this very year.”
“In this very Rite,”Atropos snarled.
My breathing faltered, icy dread raced through my system.
“And now?”
I had to ask. I had to know.
“Now, we cannot see you. Only her.”
“What happens to her?” I demanded. I would reweave Fate’s tapestry again and again with my own two hands if it meant keeping her safe.
“We cannot say,”they whispered.“But you both still have roles to play.”
The feeling of dread grew. I knew not what awaited us, buttook comfort in the fact that, even if I could — even if they’d offered it — my decision would remain the same.
We were bound for as long as Nyssa’s thread remained woven. Until Atropos’ shears snicked shut on her thread too.
I could only hope she’d forgive me someday.
I paused exactly one level above whatever hidden chamber the sisters had dragged us down into. A grin tugged at my lips as I recognised the hallway — my father had brought me here a few times over the years. The sheer coincidence was too perfect. Ithadto be another twist of fate.
“Took you long enough,” Athena drawled from where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, half-hidden in the shadows. “So, what’d you decide to do with your thread?”
“That’s none of your concern,” I said with a grin, unable to help myself. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.” She straightened. “Let’s go.”
Instead of continuing up the spiral staircase as the other champions had presumably done, Athena and I veered left, down a long, damp corridor dimly lit by flickering torches. At the end, the hallway dropped into a second stairwell.
Below, a large space opened up, roughly the size of the training arena. It spanned three storeys high and housed exactly seventy-two jail cells. Few were occupied, none currently monitored. A lone guard slept at his post.
That suited us just fine.
