Shaping Fate (2 page)

Her lashes flickered and finally, slowly
, opened. Emerald. Deep, jungle-moss green was the shade of her eyes. The color seemed to swirl, a lazy whirlpool. Atlantis could have been hidden in those depths of green. Thane felt himself being pulled into her gaze, the color so astonishing that he couldn’t resist. She blinked, and the spell he was under dissolved.             

“
It’s you.”  Her amazing eyes widened incredulously as she examined him.

“
You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he replied irritably. Annoyed at his reaction to her, he wrapped his wings tightly about himself.

“
Oh, not really. I don’t know your name, only your face. I’ve seen you in dreams, and I just finished making a statue of you.” Her voice was low and melodious, making him think of balmy nights and black silk sheets.

Then her words penetrated his lust-fogged brain
. “You made a statue of me?” he asked, startled. Other than ancient reliefs hidden in the bowels of Greek temples, no one had ever made a statue of him. Helios never cast his light on Death.

“
Yes. I’d just finished it when that man appeared out of nowhere.”  Her eyes grew dark and troubled.

“
What man? Where did he appear?”  Finally, some answers; soon he could get rid of her. He didn’t like how he reacted to her. He watched her face intently, analyzing her reactions as they spoke. He wanted to know if she lied to him.

“
The man who hurt me,” her normally low, smooth-as-honey voice became raspy at the memory of her beating, “He appeared on the island I live on.”

“
Then you have family waiting for you. Tell me what the man looks like and I’ll take you back to them.”  He forced his wings to tighten around him even more as he ignored the hard wrenching of his heart at the idea of her leaving and its rejoicing at her next words.

“
No. I don’t have a family. I’ve lived alone on the island for all two-thousand cycles of my life.” She said.

Her words confused him.
Cycles? What does she...Oh! Seasons occur in cycles. Each cycle of the seasons equals a year, so two-thousand cycles is equivalent to two-thousand years.
His realization stunned him.
This mortal is two-thousand
years
old? Not a mortal after all, she's an
immortal!

“
Aside from my dreams, the stranger was the first person I have ever encountered.”  Her eyes took on a sad cast, “What a disappointment my first contact with another person was.”

“
How did you get on the island? Did someone abandon you?”  He couldn’t help but ask, curious in spite of himself.

“
I don’t know how I came to be on the island. Why did that man hurt me?”  Her eyes were filled with confusion and a need to understand.

“
I don’t know. Tell me what he looked like and maybe we can figure it out.”  His voice was unknowingly gentle. He didn’t want to frighten her.
Yet
, he told himself hurriedly,
I don’t want her scared of me yet.

She described the attacker; his voice, his words, his face
. With every word, Thane, who’d been suspicious when she’d mentioned the statue, became even more furious. When she’d finished her account, he paced the room cursing in every language known to the Heavens and Earth. He knew who the man was: Helios, one of the Sun Gods. Thane didn’t know why the god hated him so much, just that he did. And because she had created a statue of him that the sun’s rays had struck, this girl had been beaten bloody. No wonder he hadn’t been able to completely heal her injuries; even a Primordial God could not erase the damage another God physically caused an immortal. Being over two thousand years old, the girl was definitely an immortal.

“
How did you get into my stable if you were on the island?”  he asked, crushing his anger under his absolute will. It was then that he noticed that the walls had been shaking: minor earth-tremors reacting to his fury
. I guess my home isn’t as impervious to me as I thought,
he reflected grimly.

“
I don’t know. I lost consciousness not too long after he started hitting me,” she replied, looking at him like he could take all the pain and confusion away. And he wanted to, damn it!

“
What is your name?” he asked tensely. He really didn’t want to get to know the girl, but knew that she would have to stay with him for a while at least. She had to finish healing, and he had to figure out how and why she’d ended up in his stable. Then he could send her to one of the goddess’ temples. Surely one of them would take her off his hands.

“
I don’t have one. You can make one up for me if you like. You’ll need to call me something other than ‘Woman’ or ’Girl’.”  Traces of humor riddled her bedroom-perfect voice. He shivered imperceptibly in reaction.

“
Ria.”  He hadn’t even thought about it, he didn’t need to. Ria fit as no other name could.

“
Ria, I like it.”  Her voice now held delight and her eyes had lightened to an even more enchanting color. Before he could lose himself in the vortex again, he felt the pull of a soul, and knew he couldn’t ignore his duty of escorting it to hell, even for the intriguing woman lying on the nearby cot.

“
Stay here. I’ll be back in a while.”  He teleported away without another word.

He loved fishing in the mortal realm,
he really did. It was soothing.

So why in Hades aren’t I relaxing?

He’d finished his work with the soul and now stood knee deep in a gorgeous Apalatian river. The gentle waters churned unnaturally into tumbling rapids as Thane whipped the fishing line back and forth. He jerked the line out of the water and just as quickly threw it back in. The fish were hiding under the nearby vegetation, watching in silence.

They’re laughing at me, I know it
. Damned fish.
The thought frustrated him even more. His wings heaved a great downward stroke just as he yanked on the fishing pole. He felt a slight sting, but ignored it as he tried to whip the line back into the water. The sting turned into a burning sensation as the line refused to spring forward. Cursing the moon blue, he brought his left wing forward and spotted his hook imbedded in the leathery membrane.

His shoulders slumped as he looked to the sky,
“Now I know how Mortals feel when they say the Gods hate them. We surely are some mean bastards.”

A low chuckle from the shore caused him to turn quickly
. An old man dressed in worn jeans with a white t-shirt and fishing vest stood on the bank. The man looked like Thane should have carried his soul to the Underworld decades earlier.

“Looks like you’re having some trouble there, son. Let me give you a hand with that.”  The man stepped forward with a pair of pliers. The man’s rough, calloused hands gently took hold of his wing; the metal pliers felt cold against the normal raging heat of his skin, but there was no pain as the man extracted the hook.

“
That’ll feel better, I bet. Name’s Irvin. Now, I don’t know much about fly fishing, too sporty for an old codger like me. Come sit on the bank and enjoy an old man’s fishing.”  His voice shook with age, but was low and rumbling at the same time. He chose a spot in the lee of two tree roots to sit as he baited his hook.

Thane
settled on a rock nearby and watched the old man. He was curious about so many things. The questions built up in his mind, begging for a way out, but he had to choose his words carefully. He would not alienate this fellow; he wanted answers first.

“
And how do old men fish?” he asked to buy time with his thoughts.

“
We just sit, talk, maybe have a beer, enjoy nature, and if we catch something…great! If not…well, we still had a good day.”  Irvin chortled happily.

“
Why are you not afraid, old man?”  Thane couldn’t think of any other way to ask it. The man must be senile, it was the only explanation. After all, Irvin hadn’t reacted to his wings, or the cloud of terror that surrounded him. The man must be mad.

“
Why would I be afraid? Because you have wings or because you’re Death?”  Irvin asked casually. The shock on Thane’s face must have been hilarious, because the man roared with laughter as he said, “I’ve seen… my share… of Gods in my day, Boy.”  He began wheezing, “You’re nothing new to a man of my years.”

“
Damn kids, you’d think they’d learn to respect their elders,” Thane mumbled, causing Irvin to once again roar with laughter.

As Irvin took the time to regain his breath,
Thane watched the bobber on his line bounce with the waves. He smiled slightly. Old men were rather funny.

“
I’m guessing it’s some woman that’s got you so tied up in knots.”  The mortal nodded sagely, “My wife knits or cooks when I get her riled up. Me? I prefer good old fashioned fishing.”

“
I’m not riled. I’m at a loss. She’s…led a very sheltered life,” Thane said, not wanting to spill Ria’s story to just anyone.

“
Well, now, that’s easy enough to fix. Take her out and about, show her things she’s never seen or done before. Do things that are new to you both, so you can share in the experience. She’ll find her way soon enough. Anyway, never mind about that now. That’s not why we fish. We fish to get away from the women and relax in the majesty of nature.”  The old man glanced up at the sun, “Sadly, though, I need to get back to my beloved wife, before she decides that I can eat whatever I managed to catch instead of that pot roast she promised me. You sit here and just let your mind wander where it will, that’s how old men like us fish. You have a good ’un now.”

Thanatos turned to say goodbye to Irvin, but the old man was gone
.
Figures, I just get comfortable with a mortal and it turns out to be an immortal of some sort. Just my luck.

Thane
turned back to the river and slowly relaxed back against an elm. The water gurgled merrily as an otter pair splashed and romped. A woodpecker hammered overhead as robins and finches twittered their joy; a playful breeze lovingly ruffled his hair and made the water dance. He watched as a lazy leaf floated in slow circles upon the current.

A squirrel appeared next
to him, startling Thane. He remained still as the animal looked him over carefully, then crawled onto his shoulder and started chattering in his ear. Listening, Thane summoned an acorn and presented it to the animal. After a moment of serious study, the squirrel snatched the nut and began nibbling happily, no hint of fear in its tiny body.

Huh. Nature’s not so bad
, Thane thought as he enjoyed the fruits of his brethren’s labor.

****

It was so odd. Everything in the room was a shade of grey. Ria’s muscles felt stiff and sore from being abed so long. Slowly, she rose from the cot. Curiosity for the place she now inhabited led her to the window. Outside, she saw a great expanse of water; since she could barely see the far shore, she assumed it was some kind of lake.

Turning, she saw more water, a river this time, and on the other side was more of the same grey bleakness that was on her side
. Looking further down stream, she noticed the grey was lightening; bits of green were starting to appear the further she looked.

After a while, Ria became bored
. She could only look at a grey landscape for so long before everything started to blur into one giant grey mass. This was her signal that she was done looking out the window.

Ria
didn’t want to stay in the room any more, so she wrapped herself in the sheet and left. She was instantly enchanted with the stables and the animals that resided therein. Horses with burning stares whickered at her in interest while three-headed puppies yapped and growled playfully.

But
what truly ensnared her gaze were the miles of barren wood that made up the stalls and hallway posts. The warm beams called to her, begging to be cut and carved into amazing shapes… to be given life and limb. The call became deafening, filling her mind, allowing room for nothing else. It demanded her compliance.

In a trance, she
tied the sheet to her body toga-style, reached down to pull a carving knife out of a kit that appeared beside her, and walked toward a nearby stall. Puppies wriggled in joy, thinking she was going to play with them, but she merely picked one up, studied its form and build, and set it back with its littermates. She gazed blankly at the plain wood of the kennel as her hand rose of its own volition. The knife bit deep into the wood as forms and figures flashed before her eyes… the forms the beams wished to become, needed to become, to fulfill their ultimate purpose.

Tears tracked down her face as emotions wrenched at her body
: the wood’s pain at its uselessness and its joy at finally finding someone with the ability to mold it into its proper form. Shivers wracked her, but her hands remained steady as the floor became littered with sawdust and wood shavings.

She didn’t see the subtle purple glow that encased her body and moved to encase her work, nor did she realize that the green
of her swirling emerald eyes was bleeding into both the whites and pupils, opalizing as it went. She knew none of it, feeling only the need of the living wood beneath her hands. The animals watched in reverent silence.