Fate Bound: To Summon a God

I was crouched in the basement, the dim light casting long shadows as I meticulously traced the final rune onto the cold stone floor.  I had been working on this for weeks, studying the scroll in secret, learning the ancient symbols. My fingers trembled as I completed the last stroke, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to believe that maybe—just maybe—this would work.

"Raelyn!"

The sudden sound of my sister's voice from upstairs startled me, and I nearly drop the chalk. Panic surges through me. I couldn't let her see this. If Elora found out what I was doing, she would never understand.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away.

"Raelyn! We need to go, now! Don't make me come down there!"

"I'm coming!"

There was no time to waste. I grabbed an old rag from the workbench and furiously tried to scrub the runes off the ground, but the markings didn't budge. The symbols seemed to pulse with a faint, eerie light, mocking me. 

"Raelyn!" Elora's voice was closer now, echoing down the basement stairs.

"I said I'm coming! Fates almighty, give me a second!"

"We're gonna be late!"

Desperation clawed at me. I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on the rusted watering can in the corner. It had been catching a leak from the ceiling for years, slowly filling with rainwater. Without thinking, I snatched it up and dashed the water onto the runes. The liquid sizzled as it hit the symbols, and to my immense relief, the markings began to melt away, fading into the stone as if they had never existed.

I let out a shaky breath and quickly used the rag to clean up the more stubborn remnants, scuffing the stone with the heel of my shoe to erase any lingering traces. When I was sure the runes were gone, I grabbed the scroll—the precious, forbidden scroll—and shoved it into a hiding place beneath a crate in the corner. I made sure it was well hidden before hurrying up the stairs, my heart still pounding in my chest.

Elora was waiting at the top, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and her eyes, the same stormy gray as mine, narrowed as she looked me over. "What were you doing down there?" she demanded, her tone sharp with irritation.

"Just cleaning up," I lied, forcing a smile. "The basement was a mess."

She didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she grumbled, "Look at the time. You're lucky we still have ten minutes before Rite starts"

I nodded, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

"That wrinkled crypt-keeper of a Hight Priest already thinks we're demon sympathizers." Elora argued, glaring down her nose at me. "Any excuse he can get his decrepit fingers on to convince the Clan that we're treasonous enough to hang, he will use. So arriving late to Rite for the second time this week, Rae, isn't helping. Not in the least."

The Priests. 

They despised us—especially Priest Achille. He had always looked at Elora and me with disdain, as if we were something filthy that had crawled out from beneath a rock. He believed we were Shades, a term used for shifters who were part demons. Shades were hunted in our pack, dragged out into the woods and killed before they could become a threat.

No one knew for sure if someone was a Shade until they shifted for the first time. That's when the demon blood, if it existed, would reveal itself in the form of glowing red eyes and shadows for fur.

And my first shift was only four days away.

Elora and I hurried out of the house and climbed into the old truck that had belonged to our father. The engine roared to life, and we pulled out onto the dirt road that led to the village. As we drove, the trees blurred past, their dark shapes ominous against the gray sky. My mind kept drifting back to the scroll hidden in the basement, to the runes I had drawn on the floor.

I had found the scroll hidden among my grandmother's things after she died. It was ancient, written in a language that had taken me weeks to decipher. It spoke of the Fates—Abraxas, the Fate of Life; Kaius, the Fate of Death; and Ryuu, the Fate of Destiny. The Fates ruled the universe, deciding the course of every life, every death, every destiny. The scroll claimed that one could summon a Fate and ask for a boon. But it came with a warning: to call on a Fate was to risk death.

I didn't care about the risk. If I didn't do something, I would be exposed as a Shade during my first shift, and then I would be dead anyway. I had four days to find a way to save myself, and that grubby scroll was my only hope.