Megaera extended her hand toward me, still trying to get me to listen. “Phonos, don’t go.”
It was pointless. I could barely even hear her anymore. Maybe I should have felt regret or loss over what I’d just done. But I felt nothing. Only the vague relief that I’d gotten what I’d wanted.
And so, I turned from the sphinx, from the judgment in her eyes. I turned from my sisters, from the lies, from the grief and the cage of my own home. I flew into the parting mists and was gone.
In the wake of Phonos’s departure, an unnatural stillness fell over the walkway. His sisters had left after him, but I doubted they’d be able to help him.
Callista was still crying, but the silence seemed so loud it swallowed the sound of her cries. I held her close, shielding her as best I could from the crowd. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t protect her from her own pain. “I did this,” she sobbed,her words muffled against my chest. “Theron, I did this. This is all my fault.”
I shook my head, trying to lend her my strength. “This wasn’t your doing, Callista.”
“Was it not? She was coming for me... and Zoe... Zoe was only trying to protect me.”
I had no doubt the little basilisk hadn’t meant any harm. She didn’t even understand the reason for Callista’s panic. Still hiding behind Callista, she occasionally peeked at me in confusion. “What is happening? Why?”
It was a good question, better than Zoe herself realized. I thought about Phonos, about the dazed look he’d had on his face when he’d flown off. I was probably one of the few people in Asphodelia who had an inkling of what he must have felt.
I knew the terror of a bond’s severance, the fear of losing a mate. My faith in Thanatos told me this was no loss, that death was something to embrace. And yet… The barely-there pile of dust on the ground was the only thing left of the woman Phonos had loved. That was the brutal reality.
I knelt, bringing myself to eye level with the basilisk. “Stay with Callista, Zoe. Keep her safe. I’ll get our answers.”
The basilisk bobbed her serpentine head, seeming to find comfort in having something to do. I got up and turned toward the three figures before the great bronze doors of the Hall.
As Callista sat down on a nearby bench, I made my way toward the Moirae. With every step I took, the pressure in the air intensified, a metallic weight of pure power that stole the warmth from my lungs.
But I was too determined to stop now. Hellfire burned in my veins. My claws ached with the need to strike something, to leave a mark on the perfect, serene cruelty of the scene.
“Why?”
It was the same thing Zoe had asked, the same thing Phonos had screamed through every fiber of his being. Charon’s explanations felt less like an answer and more like a cruel joke. The Moirae… What little they had said made no sense.
“Why did you do this? Why would you lead her to her death?”
It couldn’t be just because they believed in the value of death. The Moirae had always seen far more than any of us did. They would realize the worth of Daphne’s life, if only for the sake of her bond with Phonos. But inexplicably, they hadn’t.
It all felt so… pointless.
Clotho released a deep sigh, and for the first time, she sounded almost as human as Callista. “She was not of the Weave, Cerberus. Her thread was not ours to command.”
“But Charon—“
“It’s true that I tried, Theron,” the Ferryman cut me off. “But it was foolish of me to even step in. The Moirae knew that. They accepted it. You must accept it as well. Fate wanted her dead, and so she died.”
I had my own grievances with the Ferryman after what he’d done to Callista. But after his apparent attempt to help Daphne, I’d somehow expected better. His callousness made my fur bristle in irritation, and my bond with Callista flared with outrage.
My mate shot to her feet and stalked toward us. Her small frame was trembling with a rage that seemed too large for her body. “Accept what?” she demanded, her tone raw with disbelief. “That you all just stood by and watched her die? What kind of useless answer is that? Why would fate want her dead, when she was meant to be with Phonos?”
Atropos shot Callista a chastising look, but didn’t truly reprimand her for her loss of temper. “The Ferryman slightly misspoke, child. Fate does notwant. Itis. The gift of a seer is not to see the future. It is to be shown the path Fate has already laid.”
A heavy silence fell, thick with a truth I didn’t yet understand. I looked from Charon’s grim finality to the impassive faces of the Moirae. “What path?”
Lachesis raised her bronze measuring rod, and I already dreaded what she was about to say. “The path she was always on, Cerberus. The vision she received was true. It simply did not show her everything.”
Clotho raised her hands as if she were holding a thousand invisible strings. A low hum filled the air, a resonant power that emanated from her in waves. “See for yourself,” she commanded. “See the fragment she was given.”
And so I did. For the first time in my life, I saw them.
Threads.
