Daphne pressed her hand flat against my chest, right over the frantic hammering of my heart. “I always was. There was never anyone else.”
I leaned in closer, breathing a possessive vow against her skin. “There never will be.”
She tilted her head up, her expression one of absolute certainty. “I know.”
6
The Soul Song
Daphne
If there was anything I’d learned throughout all my years as a seer, it was that some things were as unavoidable as death itself. Fate was absolute, and there was nothing anyone could do to change it.
I didn’t have my gift anymore, but I didn’t need it. Now, more than ever, I knew I was meant to be with Phonos. And I’d never been happier to embrace my own fate. “Can we go home now?” I asked him, as he cradled me close.
Slowly, reluctantly, Phonos unfurled his wings. “Whatever you want, Daphne.”
As he released me from his embrace, the world rushed back in. The torchlight was harsh after the intimate dark. But the amphitheater had emptied, leaving only echoes of the frenzied bidders behind. Phix had disappeared, retiring to her den now that her duty was done.
The corner where Charon had stood emanated a damp chill, suitable, perhaps, after everything that had happened. I still had no idea what to make of the Ferryman and his offer, and I couldn’t fathom what had possessed him to bid for me. He made no secret of his disapproval of me. He should have reveled in having me out of his home.
But maybe ancient beings were just like that, acting in ways regular humans like me couldn’t hope to understand. After all, one of them had stayed behind in the Agora and kept watching us in silence. And she was as much of a mystery to me as Charon was, if not more.
The old woman. Ever since the moment she’d first appeared, something about her had felt so familiar. I didn’t know why, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen her before.
She glided down from the dais, a river of shadow flowing over the stone steps. Phonos shifted at my side, but her focus was entirely on me. “Not so fast, children,” she said. “The Keres’s claim is not yet complete.”
She raised a hand, the skin dry and age-spotted, and gently touched my cheek. A papery coolness, holding no warmth yet no malice, spread from the point of contact. It was a touch thatfelt overwhelming, a connection to endings, to a power that had forgotten life. And just like that, I remembered where I’d seen her before.
Awe and terror warred in my chest, constricting my throat until I could barely draw a breath. “You... You were in my vision.” She was the crone who’d been standing at the giant Loom, with two other women.
A flicker of something deep and knowing stirred in her eyes. “Yes,” she rasped. “I am Atropos, the Severer. And you are brave, child. But to be bound to a Thanatos-blessed, you must undergo one final step.”
Her gaze held me, a void that promised no escape. “The Thread Entwining.”
The moment she spoke the cryptic words, the world began to unravel. The hard edge of the obsidian stage beneath my feet softened. The torchlight wavered and bled into streaks of fire, and the Agora dissolved into a shimmering haze.
We fell and fell for what seemed like forever, and yet, our journey ended in the blink of an eye. One moment, I was clinging to Phonos. The next, I was somewhere else entirely. The scent of fate and inescapable knowledge assaulted my senses, too familiar and suffocating.
I cracked my eyes open and there it was. The Loom I’d seen in my vision. Towering over me, a terrifying structure of bone andpetrified wood, it made me feel less like a person and more like an insect.
I’d expected many things when I’d come to Asphodelia. A second chance, if I was extraordinarily lucky. Death, if I wasn’t. But I hadn’t actually considered how I’d feel if I faced this horrific thing again.
An oversight, perhaps, but a part of me hadn’t quite believed it was a real object. Fate was strange like that. Half the time, the images my gift had shown me weren’t clear representations of reality. But in Asphodelia, everything was different.
It was so easy to see myself crumbling under the weight of the artifact’s power, to remember how I’d struggled against threads I couldn’t control. For one horrific second, I thought the same thing would happen now, that I’d lose my resolve and my mind, all over again.
But that part of my life was over. I wasn’t at anyone’s mercy now. I took a breath and the moment passed.
Two other women emerged from the shadow of the Loom. One younger, fair-skinned and smiling, the other stern, mature in appearance. The maiden and the matron. Just as I remembered them.
“Welcome, Daphne of Dodona,” the maiden greeted me. “I am Clotho, and this is my sister, Lachesis. You need not fear us or the Loom any longer.”
“It once showed you what you were not ready to see,” Lachesis continued. “Now, it will guide you on the path you were always meant to have.”
Any other day, their reassurances would have meant nothing. But today wasn’t just any day. Phonos stood by my side. He hadn’t let go of me for a single instant. I focused on the comforting familiarity of his touch. He was real. Solid. An anchor.
“I… I understand,” I offered.
