It took a significant amount of preparation to seer to Acaeja. She was a goddess that placed great value on ritual—she lorded over the unknown, after all, and tapping into the unknown took significant focus.
Atrius helped me without complaint, following my commands with surprising amiability. We built a fire on the beach, feeding it until it was a roaring blaze. I tended it with elements of the earth—a handful of sand, a sprinkle of flower petals, the roots of tall grass. When it was time to get the blood sacrifice, Atrius turned away and started walking, before I stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting the creature for you.”
“I can hunt.”
His presence shifted in the first hint of annoyance I’d seen all night. “We don’t have time to waste.”
That was almost sweet. Weaver bless him.
“Give me that,” I said, motioning to his bow.
I thought he might hesitate, thinking I’d shoot him with it, but he handed it over immediately. He really did underestimate me.
Animals were active at night. When I reached for the threads, I felt them everywhere, lurking in the rocks, in the tall grass. I settled on a rabbit, which crouched in the sparse greenery. If I was relying on eyes alone, I wouldn’t have a sightline to it. But I wasn’t.
One shot, and the rabbit was dead.
I retrieved it, yanked the arrow from its guts, and returned to Atrius. If he was surprised or impressed, he didn’t show it.
“Here.” I gave him back his bow, then opened my hand. “Your knife.”
He gave it to me, and I crouched before the fire, heat nipping at my nose as I sliced open the rabbit’s throat.
My goddess Acaeja, Weaver of Fates, Keeper of the Unknown, I silently incanted. I give you this gift of life. Open your doors to me.
The rabbit’s blood dripped into the fire. I rubbed some of it over my hands, using my thumb to draw it across my face—two lines, one under each eye, just beneath my blindfold. Then I cast the corpse into the flames.
The blaze surged and roared in a sudden burst, making Atrius take a half-step backwards. Good. That meant it was working.
I dragged my bare toes in a circle, all the way around the fire, until I returned to my starting position. Then I sat down before the fire, so close that sweat now trickled down the back of my neck.
“Be back soon,” I said to Atrius, closed my eyes, and fell back.
And back.
And back.
Into darkness.
9
My feet touched glass water, perching on the top but not breaking through. It was dark. Mist surrounded me. A single silver line stretched out before me, flush to the smooth surface of the water, disappearing into the mist.
I walked forward, heel to toe, remaining on the silver line. It was shockingly cold against my bare feet, and a little painful, as if sharp.
The mist grew thicker, and then dissipated.
Now cliffs surrounded me, stretching endlessly into the sky. The water rippled and shifted. The air was thick with the scent of blood. It trickled, too, down the faces of the cliffs, pooling in the water. The path before me narrowed, narrowed, narrowed, until stone squeezed my shoulders.
I knew this place. This was Alka.
Good. The right path.
Give me something more, Weaver, I whispered.
I reached out my presence in all directions. My palms pressed to the stone, searching for cracks and weaknesses.
Another step.
My left hand pushed through the stone. Blink, and the rock gave way to thick, soupy mist. The threads split before me—one continuing forward through the cliffs, another veering off into mist.
I changed courses, following the second thread.
Blink, as the cliffs shattered and fell away.
Before me was a moon, full as a silver coin. Step, and red and black dripped down its surface, trickling into the water. The distant cliffs of Alka drowned in it.
Show me another.
Another thread before me. I stepped off my path and onto this one. Shift, and the moon became a crescent, clear in the sky, bloodless. The cliffs loomed beneath it. Ivy slowly crawled up their sides, rising from the water, red-black flowers blooming over the stone.
I kept walking, and time shifted, moonlight falling over the stone. Bodies tumbled from the cliffs and into the sea.
More, I whispered.
Another thread before me. I stepped onto it. The cliffs fell away. I saw a man before me, dripping in opulent silks, kneeling in a pile of bones. He looked up at me and smiled, blood spilling from between his teeth. He collapsed beneath the crescent moon.
In the midst of a seering, you couldn’t question what you saw. Your ability to think critically ceased—you could only absorb and observe.