Whatever’s happening in the prison is so intense and frenetic I can feel it without even looking. It has to be Typhon; the brief scene I witnessed when I did peek was him teasing Nemea with several of his smaller snake tongues while Asterius looked on, hard and ready to fuck her. I should be comforted by the fact that she wasn’t terrified of my brother, but that should be no surprise since Erebus didn’t frighten her at all last night when he showed her his true shape.
I’m itching to leave this waiting room and get back to her, so I barely notice when the door finally swings open.
Erika stands and looks back at me. “Well, are we doing this or not?”
My stomach clenches for a different reason, and I rise, willing my arousal back into submission before I meet with the reason for my state of mind.
I follow Erika through the door, which swings shut behind us, leaving us trapped and facing one of the most powerful beings in all of existence. I’ve only faced Fate themselves on a handful of occasions, and every time was put off by the utter irreverence in their expression. This moment is no different.
They sit behind a desk carved from a single piece of pale lavender-hued wood, their beautiful face a disconcertingly perfect balance between masculine and feminine. It takes a brief moment of squinting before I decide the unnerving part isn’t their androgyny at all; it’s because they are as symmetrical in features as Chaos is asymmetrical. The realization makes me wonder which of them has the greater capacity for destruction, because nothing in the universe can be that perfect, and trying to force it to be goes against the laws of nature.
Fate smirks. “You presume some level of perfection is not possible in nature. You are wrong. Symmetry exists everywhere, not just in physical forms. As does asymmetry. In fact, I’m entertained right now by the symmetry of your arrival with the shift in balance I felt in my tapestry just moments ago. Though it may have been hours or even days, by your measure.”
When Erika and I share a confused look, Fate shakes their head and waves their hands at the chairs facing the desk. “Please sit. We have much to discuss.”
“I need you to explain,” I say, opting to stand while Erika settles into one of the armchairs. I cross my arms and plant my feet, irritated by the fact that I’m still only eye-level with the creature sitting across the desk from me. Why are all primordials so huge in their native realms?
A flash of irritation crosses Fate’s face. I’m briefly gratified that they’re capable of losing their composure, if even just for a moment. But in that moment I have a flash of recognition that makes my blood boil. The flash of violet light within those eyes coupled with the twist of their mouth is exactly like the creature that decked me outside the Pandemonium the night of the Titans’ escape.
I grit my teeth because I don’t want to admit my mistake: that Fate managed to infiltrate the casino undetected is my fault. That they were likely there to get to me just adds salt to the wound. Instead I just bite my tongue and let them talk.
“I warned Deva that allowing the Bloodline to persist could throw things out of balance. So far the rise in higher races magic flowing around unchecked hasn’t been difficult to manage. She and the fate hounds I gave her do a fine job of finding them mates, so symmetry is maintained. Drawing the stragglers to that island helps keep them contained. But all it takes is one with a sufficiently diverse mix of power to throw everything off.”
“You mean Nemea, don’t you? What do you know about her?”
“Just that she possesses a disproportionate level of chaos magic. Catastrophic levels, in fact. And I had to step in to ensure that once she discovered it, it didn’t destroy the world. There was only one way to neutralize her without outright killing her. And killing Bloodline is something I promised Deva I would no longer resort to.”
“So you chose me and my guards to be her balance, is that it? Do you have any idea what your meddling has caused? Your attack weakened me, my doors were shattered, and four Titans escaped the prison.”
“I only chose you, Tartarus. But my threads extend deep when they seek balance. If your power alone was not a sufficient counterweight to hers, my threads would tie her to others as well—as many as it takes to find an even match. As her power grows, there may be more.”
Fate gazes at me unblinking, face calm again, and their utter lack of expression causes fury to surge forth. I stride to the desk and slam a fist down on top of it. The crack reverberates through the room, making Erika jump and utter a soft curse.
“Your actions have consequences. I demand you help us fix this. You’re so concerned about balance, give us your half of the key to Olympus so we can capture the Titans.”
They raise one perfect purple eyebrow, the smirk returning. “What if I don’t?”
“Are you telling me you don’t already know exactly what will happen if you don’t?”
“I only know the path that maintains order. You think life is messy, that Chaos reigns in all arenas. What you don’t realize is that my power finds the path through the mess that allows life to persist. If not for me, atoms would not find enough cohesion to form molecules, and molecules would be unable to form chemical bonds to create organisms. It may not look like order to the untrained eye, but it is. The Titans were meant to escape. I have a plan for them. You won’t beat them yet because that isn’t part of the plan.”
“Fuck that,” Erika snarls from behind me. She remains seated, but shoots me a glare and tilts her head to the other chair as if to say, “Quit antagonizing them and sit the fuck down.”
Fate redirects their attention to her. “What makes you think you have any influence over the outcome? What will be will be, Ms. Rosencrans.”
“Fine. I honestly don’t give a flying fuck what happens to the Titans. All I want is that key. I need it to make Iapetus release the curse he placed on my team. Hopefully that won’t disturb your precious balance.”
Fate studies us both for a long moment, and while they do, the light around us shifts eerily. A disconcerting chill travels down my spine when I glance through the window behind them. The grassy tree-lined field is alive with luminescent filaments rising into the air, twisting and weaving together in all directions. It forms a living tapestry displaying a familiar scene of the gates to Olympus.
Erika’s intake of breath makes me look at her, and the shock on her face is palpable. When I look back, I realize what she’s reacting to. Woven into the scene on the tapestry is her own body lying broken in the mud, a wild-eyed red dragon breathing flames at everything in sight. The Titans easily subdue him, and he soon falls when a single lightning bolt from Crius hits him in the chest.
Something is off with the scene, though I can’t put my finger on it. But it smells like a lie, either way. “Don’t believe what you see, Erika. This is just one of many possibilities. If anyone can influence Fate, it’s Chaos. When we go to retrieve the other half, we can appeal to him to ensure what you see there doesn’t happen.” To Fate, I add, “We will take our chances.”
“You should not put so much faith in the creature who made you, Tartarus. But if this is what you want, I only request one thing in return: If you win, I want access to the prison.”
“Impossible. Not even Chaos is allowed inside.”
“This is my price.”
“Why would you even want that? There’s nothing there but the worst creatures that ever existed.”
Fate tuts softly. “Not even you believe that. Your own guards are a testament to your lack of faith in the ability of the gods to deliver justice. All I want is free access so I don’t have to break down your doors the next time I need to create balance among the Bloodline. But if it helps, your prison won’t be the only place I look.”
“Say yes,” Erika says. “Please just say yes.”
I’m clenching my teeth so hard my jaw spasms. But I’ve already experienced the alternative, and I’m not so foolish to believe Fate can’t do it again if they desire.
“Fine. Now give us the key.”
Without a word, Fate holds out their hand to me and an object materializes within the delicate grip of their fingers. It’s a semicircular piece of gold about as wide as my fist, with raised nodules and holes that form part of a pattern.
I take it and slip it into the inner pocket of my coat. Then I turn and reach for Erika’s outstretched hand, drawing my power in to teleport the second we touch.
When we land in the middle of her camp a moment later, I retrieve the half of the key and hand it to her.
“I have business to see to in the prison,” I say. “I will return in a day and we can get the other half.”
She gives me a knowing smirk. “Good luck. If what Fate said is true, you’ve got your hands full with her.”