The second thing Jerrik noticed, was that there seemed to be ale everywhere. Even out here in the courtyard, there were taps nestled between the trees and piles of cups carved from wood and ivory sitting on wide branches and low benches. Bard refilled his cup and continued to drink. Jerrik entertained the same thought Kemma had been thinking, that the tolerance for alcohol here was shockingly high, either that or they were all in too much of a stupor-induced drunkenness to realize the level of their inebriation. But then Jerrik had another thought too…what if it wasn’t just ale?
CHAPTER SIX
When Brenna used to listen to Freya tell her stories about the three Fates, she imagined them as being old and witchy-looking women. She wasn’t sure why; Freya never described their physical appearance to her; it just seemed like it fit. But now, as she saw the three women sitting in front of her, she realized that she could not have been more mistaken. The women were young-looking (which in itself was deceiving with immortals; one could be thousands of years old and yet still look like a teenager) and beautiful. They looked like they could be triplets, identical in every way, aside from the color of their eyes. All were thin, with long, straight, black hair that wrapped in circles on the floor around them and was surely long enough to touch their ankles. One had deep-purple eyes, another deep green, and the third had eyes that were as orange as petrified amber. Their eyes looked like cat-eyes, which was at first unsettling, but once you got used to looking at them, it had a certain beauty to it. Brenna did remember one very interesting fact Freya had told her about the Fates. She had said that the Fates had names no one knew, and that was how they kept their power to foretell the future of things. Freya had said that the Fates were forbidden to tell anyone their names, and if their name was to be discovered, then they would lose their power of fortunetelling completely. Therefore, they were just referred to as the Fates, as if they were one entity and not three separate and breathtaking women.
“Hello, Edwin,” the one with the orange eyes said. “What brings you here with these?” Her cat-eyes looked Brandt and Brenna over from head to toe.
“We’d like to speak with you if that’s all right,” Brenna said politely.
“No.”
“Please, it’s about a prophecy.”
“The prophecy for curing the plague of the dark sorcery? Is that why you’ve come to us?” the Fate with the purple eyes said. Her voice was raised just enough to make it seem like she was interested or at least curious.
“Hush,” the other woman said as she swatted the purple-eyed girl.
“Please,” Brenna continued. “I was told by a friend that I was destined to find a cure for the plague, but I don’t even know where to begin. The dark sorcery has infiltrated many of the worlds, and I suspect that it won’t be long before it comes here too.”
“Let it try,” Edwin said. “Nothing will infiltrate Valhalla.”
Brenna ignored his show of prowess and continued speaking to the Fates. “It will consume every realm, and many will be lost. If there is something I can do to help, you must tell me what it is.”
“We do not take demands from anyone, least of all humans,” the orange-eyed woman said.
“I think we should help her,” the Fate with the purple eyes pleaded as she stirred her fingers in the water bowl as if she intended to conjure something. “She is not making demands, that is simply your pride talking. She is desperate and begging for help.”
“Let us look within her heart then,” the third Fate with the green eyes said. “If she seeks help for herself, then the answer shall be no. If she seeks to help the worlds, then we will consider it. Come here,” she said as she motioned for Brenna to step forward.
Brenna walked toward them and knelt in front of the Fates.
“Put your hand in the water.”
She did as she was instructed to do. The water was cool and felt effervescent, even though it was very obviously flat. She watched as the leaves swirled around her fingers, eventually ending up covering each finger as if making a glove of armor.
“Well, there is your answer,” the green-eyed Fate said.
“Fine, but we say no more than is necessary.”
Brandt came to sit beside his mate. He didn’t much like the Fate with the orange eyes. She seemed too unpredictable and volatile. He held Brenna’s dry hand as she shook the leave off her other hand and removed it from the bowl.
“You may go,” the purple-eyed woman said to Edwin. It was curious though, how she looked at him, and how he returned the look to her. It seemed like they knew each other, well.
But Brenna was sure that Freya had also told her that the Fates were forbidden from love or sexual relations. They were strictly sworn to give themselves only to be ruled by predicting destinies.
Edwin lingered for a moment and then turned to leave. Brenna turned her head to watch him walk away, and he tilted the mug of ale back into his throat as he left. Maybe this was why they all drank so much here. Maybe Valhalla wasn’t as wonderful of a place as they portrayed it to be. Her knowledge of the worlds and the mythos, and even of all the players in the stories that had been told to her, was still very vague and lacking. But she knew lust when she saw it. She also knew that destinies were sometimes meant to be broken.
She sat across from the green-eyed woman and felt a sense of unease at the way the three of them looked at her. When the Fate next to her grabbed her wrist, Brenna jumped.
“The outcome of this is set in stone. There is nothing on any of the worlds or afterlives that will change the course of things. What we will tell cannot be altered. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Brenna replied.
“Good.”
Brenna’s palms were beginning to sweat against her thighs.
“You are the cure for the dark sorcery’s plague. There is nothing outside yourself that you must seek. The magic that runs through you, granted by Freya at the time your destiny was conceived and woven throughout history, is the cure to end the plague.”
“This is great news,” Brenna blurted out as she smiled at Brandt.
“Foolish girl,” The Fate scolded. “This is why I don’t like to entertain humans in our presence. Your kind, even those of you who are imbued with power and magic and immortality, are still human.” The way she lingered her tongue over her last word portrayed a distinct sense of distaste for humanity as a whole.
“Your magic may be the cure for the plague, but remember, foolish one, the plague is merely a side-effect of the dark sorcery. There is no cure for the dark sorcery itself since it is not an affliction. It is magic, and magic is pure until it has been altered for either noble or corrupt purposes. You need just lift your finger against the plague, and it will cease. But…as soon as you choose to do so, you will bear the consequences of your action.”
“What consequences?” Brandt asked.
The orange-eyed Fate had spoken enough, so the Fate sitting directly across from Brenna took up the answer in her place.
“There is always a balance to things,” she said. “You can destroy the plague, and it will save all of the immortal realms from its devastation.” The Fate paused as if she were trying to see if they could piece together the rest of the puzzle themselves.