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“There.” The lore keeper sat back, sharp black eyes gazing critically at my arm. “I believe we are done. You can breathe easy

now.”

I gazed at my arm, resting on the table, where it had lain for the past two hours. At the swirls of green starting from my

palm and running up the length of my forearm. Slowly, my jaw unclenched, and I let out a breath of relief; the whole process,

where a needle had been stabbed into my skin, over and over again, had not been pleasant, but the marks were finally in place.

“Thank you,” I breathed, my voice coming out a bit stiff, as my body was just starting to relax.

The lore keeper gave a sniff and turned away, but the hive mother stepped forward. “These marks proclaim you a warrior of

the Scarab Clan,” she told me. “You are one of us now, and any Scarab Clan member who sees the marks will treat you as such.

Remember,” she added, raising a thin finger, “this only conceals you—it does not protect you from direct attacks. But you

should now be hidden from the magic of the Deathless King and his servants. I hope this will help you on your journey.”

“It’s more than I could hope for, Hive Mother,” I said, rising from the chair. The markings on my skin throbbed, but I was now a member of the Scarab Clan, something I wasn’t certain I deserved but would try my best to be worthy of. “Thank you. For everything.”

She gave a brisk nod. “Your friends lurking outside the door can come in now,” she said in a louder voice. “The kahjai makes no sound, but I have heard the Fatechaser pacing through the dirt since the ritual started.”

“I can’t help it. I pace when I’m nervous.” The curtains rustled as Halek pushed his way inside, followed by Raithe. The Fatechaser

was grinning as he came forward, but Raithe paused long enough to give the two women a respectful bow.

“Forgive the lurking, Hive Mother,” he said solemnly. “Not that we doubted the lore keeper, or the sacredness of the ritual.

But we wish to get underway as soon as possible and leave your people to grieve their losses in peace.”

“Do not worry about the Scarab Clan, iylvahn,” the lore keeper said, rising from her stool. “We are no strangers to conflict

or survival. We chose to help because aiding the Fateless means defying the Deathless King. May our markings protect both

her and those around her from the wrath of the Deathless and his servants.”

“Let’s see these tattoos, Sparrow,” Halek said as he gestured to my hand. I raised my arm and drew back my sleeve, revealing

the elegant swirls of green ink on my skin, and Halek whistled in admiration. “Nice. I’ve seen a fair number of tattoos, but

these are some of the best.”

Raithe walked up and gently curled his fingers around my wrist as he gazed at the markings. My skin tingled at the contact, the pain forgotten. “Good,” he murmured. “I’ll rest easier knowing they can’t touch you, at least not in your dreams.”

There was a rustling at the door, and Kysa appeared, nodding respectfully to the lore keeper and hive mother. “Rhyne and the

other mounts have been saddled,” she told us. “There are a couple hours of travel left before Demon Hour. If you’re prepared,

we are ready to go.”

“Are you certain this is what you wish, Kysa Tal’Rahhe?” the hive mother asked. “Your pilgrimage is over. You do not need

to wander the world anymore. Should you wish to stay, there are others of the clan who can escort the Fateless the rest of

the way across the steppes.”

“This is my choice,” Kysa said, stepping into the room. “For good or ill, I feel as though my thread is woven with theirs.

Whatever Fate has in store for us, even if it is no fate at all, their path is now mine to walk as well. Protecting the Fateless

is the best thing I can do to protect my clan. I will have it no other way.”

“Thank you, Kysa,” I said, and gazed around—at Halek, at the hive mother, and finally at Raithe, standing beside me. “Everyone.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I swear, I’ll try my hardest. I promise I’m not running from this. Not anymore.”

Raithe brushed my cheek, a brief, light touch that sent shivers up my spine. “That’s all we can ask for,” he said softly.

“Well, that, and eventually beating the Deathless King,” Halek added, making me wince. “Uh,” he went on, as everyone glared

at him, “but not for a while, at least.”

We left the lore keeper’s hut and walked back through the village, which was considerably smaller than it had been before the attack by the undead horde.

Two of the house beetles had been killed, and one had fled into the sandstorm and disappeared.

I hoped the Scarab Clan would be able to rebuild, to find other beetles, and to continue living their lives as they had always done.

Somehow, I didn’t think it would be that easy.

We reached the edge of the village, where Rhyne waited patiently. To my surprise, another rock beetle was tethered nearby,

saddled and ready to go, though there were no other riders around.

“Is someone else coming with us?” I wondered, looking at Kysa. “Whose mount is that?”

The insect rider gave me a strange smile and glanced at my arm. “Yours, warrior of the Scarab Clan,” she said, to my complete

amazement. “He belonged to one of our clansmen who died fighting the blood mage’s monstrosities, and he needs a new rider.

His name is Ratuk.”

“But...” I stared at the huge insect, heart pounding. “I don’t know anything about riding a rock beetle. You make it look

so easy, but... I’ve never done this before. What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Don’t worry.” Kysa gave me a genuinely affectionate smile. “I’ll teach you. It’s not difficult... once he accepts you

as his new rider, of course. Go ahead and mount up. Be firm with him. Rock beetles respect strength.”

A few minutes later, I sat in Ratuk’s saddle, trying to remember everything Kysa had just told me about handling and steering rock beetles.

We’d had to double up; rock beetles were only granted to proven warriors of the Scarab Clan, so Halek was riding with Kysa and Raithe sat behind me.

I could feel him against my back—his breath in my hair, his arm curled around my waist—and tried not to let myself be too distracted.

“Are we ready?” Kysa asked, looking at me. I took a deep, steadying breath and nodded, hoping I wouldn’t annoy the rock beetle

enough to make him pitch me out of the saddle. Kysa observed me a moment longer, then shook her head. “We’ll let you get used

to riding on the ground before we attempt to fly.”

“Don’t worry,” Raithe whispered, leaning in. His arms tightened around my waist. “Even if he takes off with us, I won’t let

you fall.”

I put my hand over his and squeezed. Without any prompting, Ratuk began a clicking, steady walk, following Rhyne, carrying

us away from the Scarab Clan village and into the looming expanse of the Barren Steppes. Somewhere beyond the desert lay the

city of the iylvahn, Raithe’s home. And the queen who would determine, once and for all, if I was truly Fateless.

“Your heart is pounding,” Raithe murmured, his voice low in my ear as he bent forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Just thinking,” I whispered back. Gazing at the distant horizon, I swallowed. “It’s hard to believe that not even a month

ago, I was a thief in Kovass,” I said. “Working for the guild, not realizing what was under my feet the entire time. And now...”

I shivered. Raithe leaned in, holding me closer, and I closed my eyes. “The world has gone crazy, Raithe. Vahn is dead. The

Deathless King is coming, and I... am only one person. Even if I am Fateless, what can I really accomplish? I don’t know

what Fate has in store for any of us.”

“None of us do,” Raithe murmured back. “But with you here, nobody knows what the future holds, not even the goddess of fate.”

“That’s not exactly comforting, you know.”

He chuckled. “I can tell you one thing for certain,” he said, running a gentle hand up my arm. “Whether you’ve changed my

story at all, unraveled my thread, undone my fate, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be with you until my story comes to an end or my

thread is cut entirely. And when you stand against the Deathless King, whatever that entails, you won’t be alone. That’s a

promise.”

Turning in the saddle, I leaned back and kissed him. Ratuk continued on, plodding across the barren earth toward the mountains

silhouetted in the hazy distance. Solasti peered down on us, waiting for her sister to join her in the skies, as the Hourglass

of Time turned and we marched on toward whatever fate waited for us at the end of the road.