Before long, we stood at the edge of a chaotic press of bodies. All around us, there were monsters, many far stranger than Phonos. Fortunately, none of them were paying attention to me. Instead, they were clustered around a heavy stone stall, enthralled by its contents. Over the top of their heads, I caught a glimpse of a cyclops trader. Her single honey-colored eye scanned her customers, burning with anticipation. No doubt, she’d smelled the desperation as well as I had.
She wasn’t wrong to be proud of her merchandise. A hulking minotaur ran a thumb along the sharpened edge of a polished satyr horn. “A good choice,” the cyclops said. “That is a fresh offering to Thanatos. Straight from the Korinos Wilds.”
A strange leonine beast poked a bunch of glinting fruit with a talon. “What are these?”
“A very rare type of fruit,” the cyclops preened. “They are called pomegranates.”
Pomegranates were fairly common in Korinos, but clearly the people of Asphodelia didn’t know that. Each seemed to take interest in things I’d seen countless times in my life.
“Never mind the fruit.” A harpy flapped her wings impatiently, pointing at a basket of simple brown eggs. “Three crystals for a dozen? That’s theft!”
“It’s a fine offer,” the cyclops stated calmly. “But if you do not wish to take it, by all means. I’m sure there are others who are interested.”
In her sizable hand, the cyclops cradled an egg, and the sight felt both alien and utterly mundane. It reminded me so much of Penelope and a life I could never reclaim. It was the old screaming, the old chaos, just wearing a different face. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out of here. Now.
Phonos instantly noticed my panic and pulled me away from the throng. “It’s all right, Daphne. I’m with you.”
He didn’t lead me forward, but to the side, toward a grand ramp that descended steeply into the darkness. The chaotic energy of the market fell away behind us with every step down, the arguments swallowed by the stone. The air grew colder, stiller.The only light came from glowing crystals embedded in the carved rock walls, casting long, dancing shadows.
The ramp opened into a vast amphitheater. Rows upon rows of stone seats surrounded a circular stage of polished black marble at the center. And on it, a rostrum made out of bone. It should have felt like a place of judgment, but right now, it brought me the desperate solace I needed.
“Better?” he asked.
I gave a small, uncertain nod, my pulse a frantic, panicked flutter in my throat. He waited a moment longer, then released me. “This is the Agora of Echoes,” he explained, gesturing at the immense area around us. “The produce stalls are merely a distraction at its gates. This is where our bride market is held.”
The bride market.The place where destinies were tied. Where he had practically invited me, during our first meeting.
“It seems different from bride markets in Korinos.”
Phonos nodded, his lips twisting into a small smile. “Our brides are always Death-touched. And such women are rare.”
The term snagged in my mind, almost as insistent as fate’s threads had once been. “Is that what I am? Death-touched?”
Phonos offered no answer. He held my stare, his expression unreadable. His lack of response became a mirror, an empty space forcing me to fill it myself.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see it all. The old man in the village, his heart giving out, a connection snapping with a final pop I felt in my own chest. The young mother, taken by fever, her life dimming like a guttering candle. The soldier on the road, his last rattling exhalation a ghost in my own lungs. I’d been there for all of them. My so-called gift had deemed it necessary.
I clenched my hands into fists. Anger was useless, but that had never stopped anyone. “But of course, what else could I be? The Weave made sure of it.”
“I know you understand the nature of the Weave, of fate,” Phonos offered, his gentle voice pulling me from the ghosts of my past. “I know you understand the bond that connects us. But fate is not a cage. It is a path made of decisions. And the choice to stay... that must be yours.”
“A choice...” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “The threads never gave me an option. They just pulled. They dragged me until I bled.”
“Then let this be the first one that waits for you to pull back.”
Phonos offered his arm again. The heavy muscle of his forearm was a tether in a world of glowing crystals and death magic, a solid thing to hold on to.
“You are not weak because you sought silence, Daphne. You are strong because you survived the noise long enough to find it.”
My breath hitched. My hands suddenly felt like foreign objects. For years, they had done nothing but brace for impact. That, and tend to chickens. But all of that had changed.
Slowly, deliberately, I uncurled my fingers. My muscles ached. I looked down at my palms, at the vulnerable flesh that had felt a thousand passings.
They were just hands. My hands. And they were empty.
The future had always been a chaotic storm, but in its own way, that had been predictable. Now, there was nothing. No threads. No path. No cage.
But there was a choice, and that was worth far more than I could have ever imagined.
