Soul Bound (29 page)

   “But perhaps it has always been this way because we have
allowed
it to be so,” Annen suggested.

   “What in the world are you talking about?” I stared at him in puzzlement.  “We don’t
allow
anything.   I don’t write Fate’s plan, I just carry it out. It is what it is.”

   “Oh, Charmian.  You have more power than you know… more power than they will ever let you discover.  And that, my lady, is why I am here.”

   I stared at him blankly again.

   “And why is that?”

   “Because before you continue with even one more cycle, there are things you need to know about the Fates.”

   At his words, I thought about the three ancient white-haired Moirae.  They were frighteningly powerful.  According to ancient legend whispered from generation to generation for thousands of years, the eldest sister Clothos spun the thread of life, while Lachesis measured the length of each thread, thereby deciding how long each person would live.  The youngest, Atropos, was the cutter.  She determined how each person would die.  I’ve only been face to face with them a handful of times and those few times were enough. 

   That was the legend.  Obviously, they don’t  literally weave a tapestry of life with a loom full of string, but legend was shockingly close to reality.  However you wanted to explain it, they controlled destiny. They literally held life and death in their hands.  I turned my focus back to Annen.

   “What about them?” I asked. 

   I glanced over my shoulder nervously, as though they might appear at any minute simply because we were talking about them.  You never know.  They were just that frightening.

   “They aren’t what you think,” Annen stated calmly.  “You have always believed that they are good and spiritual beings intent on keeping order in life.  But they’re not.  They are simply drunk on power.  And they have lived so long that they have grown bored.  They play games with the lives that they were trusted to protect.”

    “What do you mean… games?” I asked hesitantly.

   “I brought you here so you could see firsthand for yourself, so that you don’t have to take my word for it.  You and Cleopatra died tragic deaths here, along with Iras,  Marc Antony and Hasani.  You made sure of it because you thought it was all part of a master plan, correct?”

   “Of course.  That was the path  meant for all of us in this life.  It was my job to make it so.   I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

   “I’m trying to explain to you that there is no such thing as true Fate. You all died horribly for no reason at all.  Charmian, you have been manipulated as a tool for centuries at the whims of three old women.  Period.”

   I sat in stunned silence for a moment, staring at him uncertainly.

   “I don’t believe you.”

   “Of course you don’t.  It goes against everything you’ve been taught.  You’ve been groomed to believe that you have a higher purpose- that you have been acting for the good of all mankind.  But you haven’t. It’s time for you to realize that and do something about it.”

   The room seemed to whirl around me as I weighed what he was saying to me. 
Could it be? 
But that wouldn’t make any sense.  The Fates, the Moirae, had always been.  If they weren’t meant to handle destiny, then who was?

   “Charmian, as I said, I don’t expect you to simply take my word for it.  You know what is supposed to happen here.   In one week’s time, Octavian will arrive in Alexandria.  Rome will crush Egypt.  You, Cleopatra, Iras, Marc Antony and Hasani will all die.  But I’m proposing something else.  I think you should change it.”

   My eyes flew to his and I gasped.  “Change it?”

   “Yes. Change it.  Change it so that you live, so that Cleopatra accomplishes what she most wanted to do… which is to keep a member of the Ptolemy family on Egypt’s throne.  

   “You have the benefit of knowing now how things will unfold.  You can anticipate Octavian’s moves before he makes them.  Use that ability and change everything.  Then you will see that your actions don’t truly matter…because there is no set destiny, Charmian, as the Fates would have you believe.” 

   I was in a stupor.  This went against everything that I had ever believed and suddenly the biblical story of the Garden of Eden sprang to mind… how Eve had been tempted by the serpent into eating from the tree of life.  This must have been how she felt, because  a part of me, a part that was growing larger by the moment, wanted to believe Annen, even though it felt really wrong.  The Fates always placed me in horrific circumstances.  If I could escape it… if I could save Hasani… nothing else mattered.  I would accept the consequences.

   Before I could think another rational thought, however, an enormous black shadow seemed to overtake the room, stretching from corner to corner.  Giant black shadow wings appeared on the wall of my bedchamber before they quickly folded and materialized into the shape of a man standing in front of me. 

   Ahmose.  My ancient, wise handler.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  He would be able to make sense of this.

   “What are you doing?” he hissed to Annen.  “How did you escape?”

   As they stood side by side, their physical similarities were astounding.  They were both ancient and wrinkled with glittering black kohl-rimmed eyes.  Their heads were shaved and they both wore long black robes. They seemed to have been cast from the same mold. 

   “What do you think I am doing?” Annen countered calmly.  “I’m explaining to Charmian a few things that she deserves to know.  Did you think they could keep me imprisoned forever?”

   “You know nothing!” Ahmose spit angrily. “And you should not speak of that which you do not know!”  He turned to me.

   “Charmian, you have known me a very long time.  I would not lead you astray.  Do not listen to his lies.”

   His tone was almost pleading and it alarmed me.  He was all-knowing, always in control.  Why did he feel the need to appeal to me? I was just a Keeper.  He was an Aegis, an elevated priest who stood directly before the Fates on a regular basis. Before I could consider his motives further, though, Annen leaned toward me. 

   “Remember what I’ve told you, Charmian.  Every word is true.   We’ll speak more later,” he rasped, before he was suddenly gone. I spun around the room in a circle—but he had disappeared.  I turned warily back to Ahmose, who was standing in place, calmly assessing me. 

   “I don’t understand any of this,” I said softly.  “Was he telling the truth?”

   “I’m not certain what exactly he told you, Charmian, but I can assure you that I’ve never lied to you.”

   “Not that you know of,” I continued carefully.  “But maybe you’ve been lied to, as well.”

   “Do not go down that path, Charmian,” he cautioned.  “It is true that I am not always informed of the Moirae’s motives or intentions.  But I do know that we have a higher purpose and it has always been just.  Think about this- do you really think there is no plan to life?  That things are meant to simply fall where they may?  I think not. That would be utter chaos.”

   “But if Annen is lying, then what is his motive?” I pondered. “And who imprisoned him?”

   “I do not know his motive,” Ahmose admitted.  “And I don’t know many details of his imprisonment.  All I know is that he was captured by the Moirae here in Alexandria long ago.  I do not know their reason and I haven’t seen him since...until now.  But let us not waste any more time on it. He is clearly misguided.  Come now.  Take out your bloodstone- let us return you to where you belong.”

   Normally, I wouldn’t have let the matter rest, except one important thing distracted me now.  My bloodstone was no longer lying on the bed. 

   I whirled around, gazing at every corner of the room.  It wasn’t here.  My panicked eyes met Ahmose’s.

   “What?” he demanded.  “What is wrong?”

   “My bloodstone,” I whispered.  “It’s not here.  Annen must have taken it with him.  Which means..”

   “Which means that you are trapped here,” Ahmose confirmed, staring harshly at me.

   “I’m sorry,” I stammered.  “I had no idea that he would take it…”

   But Ahmose was already shaking his head. 

   “I cannot be angry with you for that, Charmian,” he muttered.  “Annen stole your bloodstone from my safe-keeping.  So how could I be angry with you for the same thing?”

   He turned and stared out the windows at the sparkling sea, his back rigid and ramrod straight.  He stayed silent and unmoving for so long that I was getting ready to prompt him when he turned to me again.

   “Charmian, whatever his motives are, he is trying to force your hand.  He has trapped you here for a reason.  Perhaps he wants you to change things to an outcome that better suits him.  I know not.  But you
must not
change anything.  Do you understand the seriousness of our situation?  We’re treading a very treacherous line.”

   I nodded, even as I remembered Annen’s words.  He absolutely wanted me to change things.  But not to suit him. The outcome was meaningless to him.  Annen wanted to prove to me that my whole existence had been a lie. 

   “But Hasani…” I whispered painfully. 

   “Hasani died as he was meant to,” Ahmose said firmly.  “His death was not your fault.”

   “But I could save him now,” I replied, sticking my chin out. “I don’t see what saving one Egyptian soldier would hurt.”

   “You can’t,” Ahmose reiterated.  “You must carry out your mission.”

   He stared at me with steely black eyes and I felt like crumpling to the floor in a heap. 

   I knew my place in the world.  I had been a Keeper for centuries.  What I was supposed to do was obvious. I should find Annen, retrieve my bloodstone and leave this place… letting destiny unroll as it was meant. But the attachment I felt to Hasani was absolute.   I couldn’t allow him to suffer a horrific fate. 

   Hasani was the only thing that mattered.

   “Ahmose?” I whispered.  “I don’t think I can.”

   “Of course you can,” he replied firmly.  “You don’t have a choice, Charmian.  Hasani will die no matter what.  Even if you intercede and stop his fate, he will die eventually.  Everyone does.  But if you change the fate that is meant for him, the ripple effects from that action could be devastating.   You cannot.”

   The confusion muddling my thoughts was sickening.  Was he right?  Deep down, I figured he probably was. Fate was what it was.  I didn’t write it- I just carried it out.  But that didn’t make the knowledge that my own actions would lead to Hasani’s death any less crippling.  The very thing that I had been born to protect and uphold was now ripping my heart out
. 

To read more of
Every Last Kiss
by Courtney Cole,

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