Because the story is now writing itself.
The tapestry rolls out onto the floor, and I have to crawl away from it on my elbows to get out of the way.
But something is wrong. Inky patches form on the tapestry, spots that seem to be erased. Or perhaps haven’t been decided yet? By the time the tapestry creeps its way over to the rug, a figure has appeared, tall and powerful and formed of shadows and eerily familiar.
And in the tapestry, Nolan is kissing her.
CHAPTER 23
No. No.
I lunge for the tapestry, taking the seam ripper to it. I wrench the threads from the fabric, mauling the image of my husband, of my husband…
I attack the fabric, ripping it to shreds, but to my horror, as soon as I’m done, the threads reweave themselves, painting the same awful picture—the Middle Sister intertwined with my husband.
What have I done?
My heart hammers in my chest as I try again and again to undo the threads, but no matter what I do, they always grow back.
“Not as simple as you would think, changing one’s fate, now is it?”
Sweat drips off of my forehead and onto the floor as I crane my neck. Behind me, in front of the fire, stands a woman. Or rather, the silhouette of a woman.
When she steps closer, I recognize that she’s not a silhouette at all, but made up entirely of shadows.
“You,” I hiss, but the woman shakes her head.
“No, I’m afraid you and I have never met.”
Realization washes over me. This voice isn’t the sultry, deep voice of the Middle Sister. Instead, it’s almost sickeningly sweet, cloying in its nature.
“Are you…?”
“Don’t bother finishing that sentence, Darling. You already sound too hopeful. I’m afraid I’m not who you’re looking for, though everyone always did prefer our Youngest Sister, even our father.”
“You’re the Eldest,” I say, hand still on the seam ripper, my other clinging to the tapestry.
She glances back down at the tapestry. “Mortals always get so perturbed with us, blame us for how their fates turn out. They think us more powerful than we are. They expect that because we’re keepers of the Thread, we’re responsible for anything and absolutely everything, no matter how many of their own sorrows and predicaments came by their own hands. No matter how many times they make decisions without considering the consequences.”
“Please,” I say. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
The Eldest Sister laughs. It’s almost a childish sound. “Of course you did. You desired to save your husband’s life, did you not?”
When I don’t answer, she says, “You only thought to lengthen his life. To save him from dying this very night. But you didn’t consider the consequences. What might happen during the time he wasn’t meant to have.”
I think back to Renslow, to my last words to him as I slit his throat.Some of us weren’t meant to live.
“Oh, don’t worry, Darling,” she says. “I’m sure he has a good reason.” She stares down at the image of Nolan kissing the Middle Sister. “Your husband is quite devoted to you. He’ll probably end up chained to my Sister from a bargain meant to save your life, or something heroic like that.”
“It wasn’t his faithfulness I was concerned with,” I say through gritted teeth.
“No, I would say not. I really did pick well with the two of you, didn’t I?”
“If you’re so proud of yourself, why not help us? I know you’re no more of a fan of your Middle Sister than we are. You’ve been punishing her for the death of your lover for centuries. Surely you don’t want to see her win.”
The Eldest Sister scoffs. “And what is it that you would have me do?”
“Reweave the tapestry, use your gifts, please, anything to help.”
