‘Sisters of the sacred oak, I come before you to make a bargain.’
The branches above him shivered, and a clicking sound cut through the peals of the cauldrons.
‘I wish,’ Zeus continued, ‘to change my fate.’
There was a cry like the ripping of the world, then the voices split.
The apple thief wants more time.
Greedy little Titan.
What will he give us?
Zeus raised his voice above the noise. ‘Whatever you ask.’
The clicking intensified.
A strange sensation spread across Zeus’ chest, a feeling old and forgotten stealing his breath.
Fear.
Leaves drifted down as the branches shook and three shapes descended the gnarled trunk.
Zeus stepped back as the first fate scuttled over the cauldrons. She was large as a wolf, her arachnid abdomen trailing silver thread in her wake. Her legs too were that of a great insect, but her arms were fashioned like a mortal woman’s, her face a smooth opal, broken by a crimson gash of a mouth.
Clotho, the weaver.
The second fate slithered like a serpent, her sea-green body rippling like water. She had no limbs, only an oval moon-white face undulating before him, devoid of features except two round eyes, misted as the dawn.
Lachesis, the judge.
Lastly, a shadow slipped from the tree, drifting over the swells of bronze and along the ground. It slid up Zeus’ armour, chilling his skin. The life-threads surging through his veins quietened, as though the third fate had reached inside his soul and quenched all that he was.
Then a voice whispered in his ear,The fate you would change belongs to me, child of time. And I have waited so long.
Atropos, the devourer.
Zeus’ heart betrayed him, thundering in his armoured chest.
‘I have walked the path of the Moirae, you must consider my bargain. That is the way.’
The darkness surged across his vision, and for a moment he thought it would consume him. Then Atropos retreated to prowl around him with her sisters.
He gasped, despite himself, as the surge of his life force returned.
Very well, the voices melded together once more, ringing in his skull.Which thread would you have us cut in exchange for yours?
‘The one belonging to the girl Prometheus named the last daughter.’
A riot of hissing exploded through the grove. Zeus fell to his knees, covering his ears against the violent noise.
YOU ASKTOO MUCH.
‘Please,’ he gasped, ‘I will do anything to change my fate. I will give anything.’
The hissing subsided, leaving a throbbing ache in his eardrums. He staggered to his feet.
He was alone in the grove. The Moirae were gone.
