Page 87 of Cursed By Fate

“If the Fates have the power to wield their scissors, why bother having furies? What’s the point?”

“Furies don’t just kill, Reimu. They punish.”

“Some might argue death is a form of punishment, Aurelia.”

“Let me put it another way. Furies make sure the guilty suffer.” It wasn’t as simple as that, but it answered Reimu’s question. Not all furies killed, however, and not all of their victims deserved to die.

“I still remember a time when the Fates were simply the administrative arm of the gods,” Reimu mused. “I miss those days.”

“Do you really?” I wasn’t convinced the gods were any better.

“They were certainly more interesting. The Fates are like eggshell white paint on a wall.”

“The gods could reclaim power if they wanted.”

“I don’t see Hypnos or Cernunnos seizing control of this world. They’re having too much fun in their own. Giving blood and answering prayers…it’s all a game to them.”

The exchange sparked a thought. “What about Enmesharra?”

“What about him?”

“Ever hear anything about him?”

“Mysterious god with a bad rep. Fond of those pesky liminal spaces between order and chaos. Seven sons. A famous sword.” Her shoulders lifted slightly. “What do you want to know?”

I tread carefully. If I said too much, it would lead her to Vale, which would lead her to me. “I’ve heard rumors of an eighth son.”

“Since when are you interested in the business of the gods? Isn’t that why you left—to extricate yourself from their business?”

“I left because the Fates are corrupt and didn’t deserve my obedience.”

“I’d give a tail to hear you say that to their faces.” She tilted her head, thinking. “Now that you mention it, I did hear something about an eighth son. Killed his brother and stole the family sword and its seat. Ruthless bastard.”

My stomach clenched. “I hadn’t heard that part.” Vale had said the sword turned on his brother, not that Vale had used the sword to kill him. The truth was probably somewhere in between.

Her brown eyes flickered with light. “Oh, I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“You want the enchanted sword. The Thousand-Veiled Edge,” she drawled.

“What interest would I have in a sword? I have a collection of my own.”

She wagged a finger at me. “I’m no fool. I know what that sword is capable of, assuming the legend is true, of course. One never knows. It isn’t enough that you escaped them; now you want your revenge.”

I stiffened. “On Enmesharra? I have no history with any of the gods.”

She continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “These are the Fates we’re talking about. You can’t chop off their heads and expect the world to keep spinning like nothing happened. The gods themselves will hunt you down. You’ll have business enough with them then, believe me.”

“Mesharu can kill Enmesharra, its original bearer. That’s the legend.” That was the real reason the family kept it in their possession, not simply because it was an heirloom, but because it was a threat to the god who once wielded it.

“That’s only part of the legend, Aurelia. Mesharu is said to be the only blade in existence capable of killing a god. Any god.” She let the statement dangle between us.

“And if it can cut through the flesh of a god, then it could sever the head of a Fate,” I said, completing the thought.

And now that I’d met Vale, I knew where the sword was.

Reimu rubbed her hands together with enthusiasm. “It’s been eons since there’s been a good coup. I can’t believe I’ll have a front-row seat to this one.”