“I am. But this game is more important right now.
“What kind of game?” she asked.
Lopt pointed out at the city buildings she was so fascinated with. “See the biggest building here in front of us? Look at all of the windows. Starting at the upper left, each window will be a letter. We will go across the row and then down to the next, and so on and so forth until we reach the end of the alphabet. You will simply be pointing to windows, not giving me the answer. I will figure the rest out on my own. Do you think you can do that?”
The Fate thought about it and then nodded her head. “But,” she said. “If you are able to figure out this game, it must stay between you and me. My sisters will already be upset with me, and I will suffer for having rebelled against their wishes.”
Lopt agreed. “I understand.” He grabbed a sheet of paper and one of Brenna’s old graphite pencils lying on the table and made a quick sketch of the building and the placement of the windows; then, he labeled each window with a corresponding letter. He looked up at the Fate when he was ready, and she lifted her finger to point to the first window.
Erik watched as the girl pointed at one window after another, and Lopt scribbled down letters as if cracking a code. When she set her hand on her lap, Lopt looked at his paper.
Brenna will die.
“I’m sorry,” she said as he looked up at her in dismay. “I do not create the future; I only see it.”
“But it is mailable, is it not? The outcomes change as our choices and actions mold and affect the destinies.”
“Sometimes. But other times, destiny is set.”
Lopt was confused. He didn’t know which path would result in Brenna’s death or even if both paths led her to the same outcome, and the Fate could only see what would happen, not what would lead to it.
“You have to tell the others,” Erik said.
“I cannot,” Lopt answered. “I gave my word that I would keep this to myself.”
“But, we’re talking about Brenna’s life.”
“I understand that,” Lopt snapped at him. “And I will figure this out, but in the meantime, we will not be putting the Fate in danger of exile, or worse. Do you know what would happen if the three Fates are split apart?”
“Let me guess,” Erik said sarcastically. “Chaos?”
“You have no idea how much chaos it would create,” Lopt said. “I must go to Alfheim now, stay with her.”
As Lopt readied to leave, Erik sat, looking at the girl who was still staring out the window, with a much sadder look on her face than before.
“What am I supposed to do with her?”
“Play a game,” Lopt said in rebuttal to Erik’s previous sarcasm as he walked away.
Erik felt bad for the girl, even if she was the bearer of bad news. “I don’t think you’d want to go out into the city right now,” he said. “The plague is in this realm, and it strikes without much warning. It’s not safe to go out.”
“I know,” she said sadly. “But I would like to see it sometime. It looks so beautiful.”
“I’m sure you must have seen may beautiful things,” he said as he tried to strike a conversation with the mysterious girl. He had gotten used to looking at her cat-eyes now, and she began to look more human-like to him than she had when she had first arrived.
“I have. But I have also seen many terrible things.”
Erik felt sorry for her. He could only imagine the weight of seeing the future of those around you, especially if the future was dismal.
“What will your sisters do to you when you return?”
“They will likely kill me.”
“What? That can’t be true. Lopt just said that chaos would be caused if the three of you weren’t together. Besides you are their sister, I’m sure they won’t kill you.”
“My sisters do not care about chaos, and they do not care about me.”
“Then what do they care about?”
“Power.”
Erik wished Lopt was still here so he could have heard what the Fate said. What was the point of playing that game they played with the windows if the other two Fates were going to kill her anyway?
“You can’t go back to them then.”
“Where else would I go?”
“You could stay here with us.”
She smiled. “That’s very kind of you, but I’ve never been anywhere without my sisters. I’m not sure I could even exist on my own.”
Erik stared at her and watched as she returned her gaze toward the window.
“But,” she said. “I think I’d like to try.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Lopt arrived on Alfheim, the remnants of the most recent wave of plague were still lingering in the air. It was strange how the dark sorcery hung in plumes as though it were feathers floating upon the breeze. He used his magic as a guide to find where Celeste and Cai were taking shelter from the plague, and when he got to the woman’s home and knocked on the door, he was overjoyed to see Celeste’s face when the slab of wood swung open.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he kissed her. They didn’t care that there were many small sets of eyes on them as they embraced; they were just so happy to be reunited amidst all of the turmoil that kept separating them. He came inside, and the boy’s mother poured him tea, as was her habit with welcoming new guests into her home. He spoke with everyone, heard what had happened on Alfheim during his absence, and found a special curiosity with Astra.
The forest had always been such an important part of Freya’s life when she was alive, and therefore it had been important to Lopt too. It was surreal to see the forest manifested as a being and such a lovely and powerful one at that. He spent time asking Astra about her thoughts on the dark sorcery and the ensuing plague. Cai showed Lopt the talisman, and he then spent more time asking Astra her thoughts on the Dark Elf’s magic as well. After he was satisfied with pulling as much information from her as he could, he then shared what he knew about things from outside of Alfheim.
He told them about Kemma and the guys on Valhalla, and most importantly, about Brenna’s prophecy and the third Fate who was now inside his apartment. The children sat wide-eyed and open-eared, listening to the adults talk as if they were spinning an epic tale of adventure. Only the oldest sister looked fearful, probably because she knew more of the dangers implied than the younger children who just thought of the whole thing as a grand adventure. The smallest girl hopped back up onto Cai’s lap, dragging her raggedy bear along with her by a tightly held grip of his less-than-furry arm. Lopt was surprised to see Cai so affectionate and docile with a small child. He didn’t know why, but Cai hadn’t struck him as a fatherly figure in the slightest. Lopt also noticed how the eldest sister watched the little girl and her bear unusually closely.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced,” Lopt said to the eldest sister.
“I know who you are,” she said. “You’re Lopt.”
“Yes, I am. And what is your name if I may ask?”
The girl looked uncomfortable, but she answered. He could tell by the way she held her head and pushed back her shoulders when she spoke, that she was brave. Brave, like Gretel was.