Fate Undone: A Novella

Chapter V

V.

Hooves rang hastily against the stones. The wind pulled Anna's hair back as the buildings materialized up from dust and ruin, piecing themselves back together to fly past. Bodies of men, women, and children ran, forming blurring crowds as the horse was spurred harder. Overhead, the cloudless sky was dark blue, not yet polluted by the smoke from the long night that was fast approaching.

There was no fire, no rubble, no blood on the walls or on the streets or even in the lines of Anna's hands. But there was panic. Anna felt it in her chest. She clenched her father's waist even harder, savoring the touch of his woolen tunic against her skin instead of that harsh steel. She swore she could feel the panic in him, too, somewhere deep inside. The sound of the western watchtower's deep horn was slowing fading. It had been blown out over the city, over and over, and was echoing now as far away as the Enseladic Mountains in the east.

Shelter, it called. They're coming.

Abraam led his dark horse down one of the city's wide streets, racing past hordes of frightened families flinging cellar doors open to hurry underground. Others were being ordered by loud guards to get to the nearest public shelters, but that didn't keep some people from trying to get into the private lodgings. The horse rushed past a fistfight between two men. Anna looked back; a guard toss one of the troublemakers to the side and held him there by sword point. Behind the guard, a punch was thrown and another fight broke out. The people are turning on each other. There was panic before, but not like this.

Elsewhere, there were young children crying on their own, being passed by people who didn't know or want them. Some men snuck in and out of open doors, stealing whatever they could as if this was all just a ruse. Armed soldiers were coming out from thinner streets and taking shortcuts through alleyways, but most ignored the suspicions and the troubles of the common folk; they were too busy marching in lines to the orders of their captains, headed to the wall where they could best meet the real threat.

I don't like this, Anna recalled saying. All the soldiers and the dispersing crowds heading underground had unnerved her. I've never seen the city like this before.

Neither have I, responded Abraam.

What will happen?

Only the horse's sharp hooves had answered that. Anything Abraam may have said was tossed away in the wind or drowned out by the city's slow organization. Anna didn't bother to say anything now. She could only think how maybe her last actions—her attempt at changing fate in the crypt and the tunnel—may have altered the things immediately around her.

Ahead, the street was being barricaded with carts and sandbags. Abraam quickly steered onto a side street. Fewer people were seen here. Pasithia was steadying itself as more and more soldiers took charge, pulling the city's reins in to get on the right track. Riders passed by, going in the opposite direction, racing toward the western walls. Their horses carried large bundles loaded with whatever was needed for the coming fight. Anna thought she saw the fletching of arrows sticking out. Mules passed by, too, strapped to wagons piled high with barrels, pots, and long rockets.

Abraam turned his horse again, taking another street, steering off through a section of tall, dark homes. If there were any families inside, they would be waiting in worry for hours, but Anna suspected they had all left. There weren't many that would choose to stay above the streets; yet again, the shelters that Pasithia had wouldn't be able to hold everyone. And besides, they only protect against the falling rubble. When everything is up in flames, anyone underground will only be trapped. The hooves clapped against the stones, echoing in and out of emptying alleyways and past fewer and fewer lines of rushing soldiers.

The horse turned a final corner, and the temple came into view, bordered by its colorful gardens and flowering trees. The roof's tall spire jutted up into the darkening sky like a lance between the shorter grey buildings to its sides. Beneath it, a large rose window of stained glass and elegant tracery depicted an everlasting sunset to hang above the doors. The closer the building came, the brighter that window seemed to burn.

Abraam pulled at the horse's reins, stopping right in front of the tall doors. "You'll be safe here, Anna." He dismounted and grabbed her hand as she slid down. "Nikos and Eleni must already be in the manor; I need to join them. But I assure you, you'll be safe."

I don't want to hide, recalled Anna. Give me a bow and a high place and I can—

No. The city has its soldiers. You're a priestess and you belong with the others.

But Nikos and Eleni—

Have made their choices. So have you. It's our duty to stay by the choices we've made. If we seek to change that, we become fickle, and fickle men and women don't carry their honor as high as they should.

But Anna did not say or hear those things. She only nodded this time. Do I have no honor for wanting to change this awful night so badly?

One of the temple's doors creaked lightly and Mother Dimitra stepped out. Her cane clicked softly and rested, holding the door open. "I thought I heard a great sound like thunderous hooves stopping just outside my doorstep. I'm glad to see it was you, Anna."

"Mother Dimitra," said Abraam. "Please keep her safe until this is all over."

"I could ask something similar of you," said the elderly woman. "There isn't a soul in this city that won't be looking out for someone else." She gestured at Anna with long fingers. "Come inside, dear. Everyone else is already downstairs."

Anna turned to her father and gave him a quick hug. He was warm. He was safe. No place in this city, no matter how deep in the ground, could make her feel any different. But as quickly as she had leaned into him, he seemed to be gone. His whispered words of, "I love you, Anna. I'll see you soon enough," were replaced with the beating of hooves. She watched the horse gallop away, carrying her father off until he disappeared down the street between the buildings where another line of soldiers rushed by.

Mother Dimitra took Anna by the hand and walked her into the temple. Silently, they passed between the empty pews, lean columns, and the statues of blind women holding flickering fires. The ceiling above arched up intricately, rising higher than any in all of Pasithia. Shadows clung to the high crevices, watching Anna pass by no more than the blind women could. Past a tall altar on the other end of the temple's nave was a set of stone steps leading down to a broad wooden door.

Mother Dimitra opened it, and Anna stepped inside. Here were all the priestesses, seated together in threes and fours, in between the candles by their feet and along every sarcophagi slab lining the walls. Their long gowns were of ivory silk, untainted. Their young faces were nervous, yet still filled with life.

They looked at Anna with embers in their eyes, and one by one, they began bursting into flames. The smoke rose and clung to the short ceiling, gathering like clouds bringing on the storm.

From behind, Mother Dimitra said, "Goodbye, my girls. I'll pray for you all," as she backed away, shut the door, and locked it from the outside.

Anna looked at the lock. It was on the wrong side of the door, and it was hissing and steaming violently.

She will surely die out there, thought Anna. She could just barely hear Mother Dimitra's cane clicking away on the other side of the door, going back up the steps. Although, none of us were ever meant to escape this night, were we?

(If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a Vote.)