He picked up another stick and turned it over between his fingers. The stick’s fate was in his hands. Drop it and it went on unchanged, but toss it into the fire and it wouldn’t last. Nikolas’s fate had rested in his hands too. Left alone, he’d have survived whatever the gods threw at him. But Vasili had tossed him into the fire. He flicked the stick into the fire. It twisted and bent before finally succumbing.
