Snarling to herself, the Adept set the buckets down and started to scrub the floor. You’d think that the most powerful Adept in the whole damn Council would make some use of the advantages granted to the Adepts, but no. Lady Goddamn Fate was just too good to use such crude methods. Meaning that her Adepts were the ones left scrubbing her precious floors.

Well, fuck Fate anyway. The Adept didn’t care. She was better than that stuck-up bitch any day. She’d been a trained Adept, one of the confidantes of the old Fate, when this one was still a snot-nosed apprentice, but did that matter to the Council? No. They just had to name some stuck-up little priss who was probably better at shoving her nose in the air than reading the Loom. And she wasn’t bitter. Oh, no, she wasn’t bitter. She wasn’t bitter about the way she hadn’t had a chance to read the Loom for centuries – ever since the last Fate had stepped down – or the way she still woke up some nights, sweating and gasping at the memory of

the sharp sweet rush of time trickling through the fingers, sweeter and more addictive than any mortal drug could ever be, harsh and wild and beautiful, almost sexual in its intensity but better than sex could ever be

sitting at the Loom, knowing even as she sat bolt upright in bed she would never feel it again. Not if lady Goddamn Fate had anything to say about it, anyway.

And speaking of the Loom…

The Adept rose slowly from the floor, savoring the slow uncurling of anticipation. Normally she wouldn’t dare to try this without Fate’s consent, but Fate was meeting with the Council now, as she had been doing daily ever since she revealed – the Adept sneered to herself – whatever oh-so-important Grand Revelation she, Fate, had seen in the Loom.

Which only made it all the more tempting.

Distantly, the Adept knew that she probably shouldn’t be doing this, not without any other Adepts shielding her from the full effects of the Loom, but the Loom was there, unguarded, and she had been starving for it for centuries, and –

And she wanted. Oh, how she wanted.

Taking a last furtive glance at the timepiece on the wall, the Adept rose and crept over to the Loom.

Even after centuries of not being able to use it, the shuttle slid into her hands as comfortably as she remembered, like a well-worn glove. For an instant, she felt tempted to be jealous of the way lady Goddamn Fate was able to hold even the shuttle every day – no. Don’t profane the moment.

And it was difficult to feel bitter with the Loom so close at hand. With a practiced skill that still hadn’t been eroded from years of disuse, she touched the shuttle to the first time-strand and –

There! A vast city, obscenely beautiful. New, powerful, vibrant, corrupt, it called to her, called to her, called to her, called to her called to her called-to-her called-to-her calledtoher calledtoher call –

There! She was falling, falling, falling away from the earth, suns moons stars spinning out of control, falling out of their carefully arranged pattern with the force of her gravity

and she knew with the few strands of her mind still not tangled in the strands of the Loom that something was not right with the weaving, but –

There! Tall grass swaying on a field, but not to the right rhythm, not to the wind which would be the way it was supposed to sway but some new harmony, something deep and powerful and deeply Not Right

frantically she tried to adjust the Loom, and –

There! People rushing through the streets of the city she had seen earlier – no, another city, or was it another? She couldn’t tell – running and screaming through the streets of a city as behind them a giant ant moved forward implacably, crushing everything in its path

this is not right, this is Not Right, this is NOT RIGHT

There! The universe splitting in two, the world splitting in two, nations splitting in two, her mind splitting in two

and as, with a last, desperate effort she pulled her mind free of the Loom and slumped backward, her entire consciousness unraveling

not noticing as the threads of the Loom collapsed and the walls of Fate’s chamber began to reverberate with the sound of her screams.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The screaming began as a high, piercing wail, howling through the walls and making apprentices, Adepts, and Aspects alike look up in bewilderment: a sound that filled the air, thrumming through the consciousness like a terrified siren’s call. As the sound intensified, Time jumped back with a hurried but fervent curse.

"What the hell is that?" she demanded, looking around at the assembled Aspects as though they were somehow expected to know the answer.

Nobody even met her eyes. They were too busy looking at Fate who, at the first ear-splitting scream, had slumped back in her chair, her normally serene face contorted into a rictus of pain.

Well, if everybody was busy gawking at Fate, they would never get anything done. "Healing!" Time barked. "Earth to Healing!"

The plump Aspect jumped.

"What’s wrong with her?" she snapped, trying not to show just how worried she was. Damn it, Fate wasn’t all that strong. She’d been a weedy, sickly little girl as an apprentice, and years of reading the Loom hadn’t done much for her physical health. "Damn it, Healing, I asked you a fucking question!"

Healing licked her lips. "I – don’t – " but Time had already turned to Sickness. Why couldn’t anyone get anything done around here?

"Sickness! Is this one of yours?"

"No, Time," Sickness said, looking pale but composed. "It’s definitely not one of my servants. They’re not allowed to touch Aspects anyway."

Time growled at him.

Chance touched her arm, making her whip around and glare at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. "Look," he said soothingly – so he thought he could handle her, did he? Who the fuck did he think he was? – "I know you’re worried, but yelling at the other Aspects isn’t going to solve anything." Hmph. "Do you think it might have something to do with the Loom?"

Oh, shit. She hadn’t even considered that.

Healing, who had regained some of her color by now, straightened and said, "You go on. I’ll do what I can here." Her tone was confident, but as she looked at Fate, she started to become slightly gray again.

Damn, damn, damn.

"Lady Time," Good said formally – Chance had to restrain Time from leaping forward and wringing the other woman’s solemn neck – "as the Aspect of Good, I request that you and Lord Chance go to lady Fate’s chambers and investigate." But Time had already leapt up and started storming out the door, counting on the rather harried-looking Chance to follow her.

Secrets or not, she would give anything for Fate to be all right.