Three Wasted Chances (THE FATALITY SERIES Book 3)

Chapter 1

There was something disconcerting about standing on a volcano's flank as it belched plumes of ash that made Fatality silently question her life choices.

"We are never taking another one of Verdue's requests ever again." Lucky for him, Eon didn't have to come. Not like she had a choice.

"You didn't have to join me, you know. She sent me to resurrect her subs, not you."

"Three sub-Verdues. You need someone there to protect you afterward." He got her there. Fatality acquiesced.

"Thank you."

"Come on. Let's get moving."

Eon and Fatality traversed over the cold remnants of pyroclastic flows and lava bombs. The matchstick remnants of fallen trees were the reminder that Mount Gede had been a jungle paradise. Nothing living remained across its slopes.

Her slopes. Guardian had mentioned it before they arrived. Gede was a she sub-Tellus. Some ancient Force firmly rooted into Earth's crust, where three stubborn sub-Verdues had literally planted themselves to her surface. Nine years ago, such a concept would have been utterly asinine to Fatality. There she was, tailing her father as they walked over the rocky skin of a sub-Force who essentially murdered three other Forces, possibly because they were making the volcano itch. That was how Fatality was going to interpret it anyway.

Forces could be clouds and the wind, trees and animals while also masquerading as people. Her Eon dad was doing the very human thing of non-stop cursing. A muttered tirade about, "—brainless, simple-minded, floral falsities—" before she lost sight of his face. Maybe it was for the best that she couldn't hear him. Fatality opted to pay attention to her surroundings.

Mount Gede's summit streamed a continuous column of smoke. Lava fountains crisscrossed the flanking edges, while a'a burbled off in the distance. The scattering of glassy boulders draped in the golden locks of Pele's hair was noteworthy enough to stop Fatality in her tracks.

"I think I've spotted them. There's a grove over that way."

"Ah-huh." Fatality was focused on the mountain and the broader picture. Volcanoes were predictable. High silicate ones produced a'a. Gaseous ones exploded. Gede was performing a myriad of different behaviors a single volcano was not capable of, and then there was the aura. Vanished. Gone. Lights were on, but no Force was home.

How is this possible? Maybe they were walking on the remains of Gede's zombified corpse instead. Fatality shuddered.

Eon was making a straight line to the strand of trees. He hadn't said a word about anything other than the Verdues. She was worrying over nothing. Everything was totally fine, absolutely a-okay. Fatality glanced at the hellscape surrounding her and grimaced, incapable of deluding herself.

"Looks like whatever fires were here burnt themselves out. It's safe to approach."

Ahead was a small cliff face with a blackened stairwell that led to the looming forms of three massive banyan trees. It was one of the few types of tree Fatality could identify by shape alone. Unlike a normal tree, banyans rooted from their branches. What resulted was an entwining trunk system the width of several meters. The cords wrapped around their boughs were carbonized, though the canopy had some color left. A few leaves flicked in the breeze; the faint glimmer of an aura desperate to cling to existence surrounded their tips.

"That's them." Even the recently deceased had an aura. Not that Eon could tell them apart from the real deal. He was looking between the three dead Verdue and a nearby banyan, incapable of seeing what she could. They all looked like trees to him.