“Soren could sense if her soul had evacuated her body. He would be the one to reap her, after all.”
That seems kind of messed up for him to have to reap the soul of his friend, but I keep my mouth shut. So many things go on around here and are seriously messed up, so what’s one more thing to add to the mix.
“A boon, Echo,” Madame says suddenly.
“A what? Huh?”
“In reward for your cooperation and assistance in this matter. I will offer you a boon of your choosing.”
“Like, a favor? No questions asked?” She nods her head gracefully.
Part of me wonders why she’s so insistent that I’m theonly onethat might help with this. But a bigger part of my brain thinks that there’s no way I can say no to her terms.
“And is there a limit on the size of the favor?”
“No deaths,” Madame replies immediately.
Damn, I try not to react to that, wondering what exactly she thinks I have in mind.
“Otherwise, you are free to decide. We can discuss it more once you have results, child.”
I pause at that.
A boon from Madame is a massive deal. I could ask her for anything and she’d provide it. I sit and hum over the possibilities of what that could look like, what a future could look like with Madame’s favor instead of always looking over my shoulder.
I guess that I’m silent too long because Madame smiles this serpentine smile, and it’s creepy enough to make me shudder.
“Of course, the boon is only at play if you agree to aid Soren with this endeavor. And if you don’t agree, I believe I have other ways I can persuade you to lend a hand.”
Her tone is light, but an icy coldness trickles down my spine at her words. “Oh?”
“It’s well past time for you and your sister to commence your duties as weavers, as I told you in my message. The alternative is that we remove your powers.”
That… doesn’t seem so bad. Especially not for Jet, who is plagued by floods of images being sent into her brain at random intervals. While most fate weavers, like Wren, see the threads of fate and the many ways that things could go, depending on what choices are made. As a karma weaver, Jet is bombarded with images of dozens of obstacles and events at once. She hates it and I can’t say that I blame her.
“Your memories would have to be wiped, of course,” Madame adds.
Hold up. Record scratch.
“Wh-what?” I stammer.
Her eyes glint. “You can’t imagine that we’d allow you to wander around with your memories of weaving intact. No, no, child, we would have to make you both blank slates. No powers, starting your lives afresh.”
Where we wouldn’t remember anything from our lives until now. We wouldn’t remember each other.
I shake my head vehemently, knowing I’m showing my hand, which is a dangerous thing to do in front of a person like Madame, someone cunning, but I can’t help it. I’m not sure what would be worse, them forcing Jet into a placement somewhere she was bound to hate, or us both having the memories of our lives wiped away.
Madame certainly knows how to wield a threat as well as she wields potential rewards.
I guess I don’t really have a choice here. I deflate in my seat and just about hold in a sigh of defeat.
“Do we have a deal?” Madame stands and extends her hand to me.
I eye it warily before sticking mine out. “Yes, fine. I’ll help to look for your missing weaver.”
She dismisses me a couple of minutes later, after telling me I can go home to pick up enough of my stuff for a few weeks, and then I’m to head right back to Soren’s garden.
I step out of her office into the corridor outside. I could just head straight home, hop out the Ether back to our apartment, but I can’t help myself from taking another look at this place to see if it’s changed any since I was here last, just under four years ago. I also feel a bit like someone has punched me in the gut from my negotiations with Madame and need a few minutes to clear my head before I head back and have to explain what’s going on to my sister.
