*Lord of Destiny — Chapter 4: The First Pull*
Kael didn’t think.
He pulled.
The black thread from his wrist shot out, fast and ugly, and wrapped around the ones choking Lyra. It felt like grabbing a live wire. Heat crawled up his arm. The mark flared and crept another inch toward his elbow.
Lyra gasped as the threads loosened. She dropped to one knee, storm-gray eyes wide. “Kael, no—”
The Spire screamed.
Not a sound. A vibration. Every thread in the hall went rigid at once. Gold, silver, red. They all sang the same note, high and wrong.
The man with white eyes tilted his head. “Oh. You do listen.”
He snapped his fingers. The threads Kael had pulled unraveled in his hands and reformed behind him. Now there were two of them.
Consequence.
In Kael’s head, images slammed in.
A baker in the lower district. His oven went cold. His daughter cried because there was no bread.
A guard on the wall. His sword arm went numb. He dropped his weapon as shadows climbed the ramparts.
Two lives. Because Kael pulled to save one.
“See?” the man said softly. “That’s rule three.” He smiled with all his teeth. “Every pull has a price. The Weaver collects.”
The black mark on Kael’s arm pulsed. It was past his elbow now, crawling up like ink in water.
Lyra got to her feet. Blood ran from her nose. “Enough,” she said. “Veyr, his name is Veyr too. Coren Veyr. My brother. The Weaver’s first choice this cycle.”
Coren spread his arms. His thread-coat rustled. “And I did what you couldn’t, sister. I tried to save everyone. The Weaver didn’t like that. So it’s making me fix it. The right way.”
He looked at Kael. “Pull the big one, little brother. The one at the center of the hall. Pull it, and Karthos lives. Pull it, and the plague doesn’t start. Pull it, and ten thousand people get to keep breathing.”
A thick golden thread hung from the ceiling, right in the middle of the Spire. It was wider than Kael’s arm and it pulsed like a heart.
Lyra grabbed Kael’s shoulder. “Don’t. That’s the Anchor Thread. If you pull it, you decide the fate of the entire city. And the mark will reach your heart.”
Outside, something cracked. The black sky over Karthos split with a line of red light.
Coren whispered, “Tick tock.”
Kael stared at the Anchor Thread. He could feel it. It was warm. It was heavy. It was screaming with every life in Karthos.
His hand was already moving.