Riddle of Fate (26 page)

She ducked into her bedroom, grabbing the serving tray that was on the floor. She waited around a corner for him.

The moment he appeared, she swung the wooden tray at his head. To her dismay, it went straight through him. He cackled with laughter as she crawled over the bed and away from him. “You see, there are benefits to being dead.”

He stalked around the bed. Rolling under it, she tried to scramble towards the door. A cold hand gripped her by the ankle and she screeched in terror. He dragged her out from under the bed. “You can’t escape me.”

She engaged her Insight, searching for his form, but all she could see inside him was darkness. Nothing to hold onto, nothing at which to direct her command. “Your little trick doesn’t work on me,” he said with a grin.

He stood over her, raising the sword high above his head. She tried to roll through his leg and under the bed again, but they were as solid and real as her own legs. She cried out in frustration and panic.

The sword rushed towards her and she held her breath.

Seb let out a low grunt as someone slammed into him, knocking him over. The sword flew from his hand, clanging as it landed near the door.

To her amazement, Derrin was grappling with Seb. She jumped to her feet, her back against the window, the wrestling duo between her and the bedroom door. Glancing out of the window, the ground seemed impossibly far away. Jumping out would no doubt result in a broken ankle at the very least.

Seb reached for the sword, straining against Derrin’s hold. He was keeping a hand in contact with the ghost all the time, almost as if he was afraid Seb would disappear the moment he let go. Maybe that’s exactly what would happen.

Seb wrenched himself free and vanished, but reappeared next to the sword. Khaya stood frozen in place.

Abruptly, Seb swung around and backed into the room. He kept glancing over his shoulder at Derrin.  Khaya couldn't see anything forcing Seb into the room... Collectors! It had to be more Collectors.

Her hope surged – maybe they would get out of this alive – before realising the implications. They’d caught up with her. They would allow Seb to kill her and then their problem would be resolved.

Seb jumped onto the bed, swinging the sword every now and again. Derrin couldn’t get close to him in the tight confines of the bedroom. “Khaya,” Derrin said, “jump out of the window.”

She opened the window and cold air rushed in, curling its icy fingers through her hair. She looked down at the ground. “It’s too high,” she cried, “I can’t.”

Her moment of hesitation lasted too long. It felt like no more than a shove, but when she looked down, the tip of the sword was protruding from her chest. A tug and it was gone again. She fell to her knees, her hands cupping the wound on her chest, blood pouring out.

“No!” Derrin roared.

She was barely aware of his hands on her. She looked up into his dark eyes. Tears spilt from them and coursed down his cheeks. She didn’t know Collectors could cry.

Everything went black.

No Regrets

Derrin stared in horror at her still body, blood seeping from her wound. All thoughts of capturing Seb fled from his mind. He couldn’t let her die. He put his hands over her chest and back, closing his eyes. Warmth prickled his arms, flowed to his fingertips and into her body.

Fearing he would fail again as he did with Zera, he looked at her injury. Nothing was happening. He cursed as a light started emanating from her, enveloping her body and slowly lifting away from her.

Her soul was parting from her body. “No!” he said through clenched teeth.

Without realising what he was doing, he wiped his hand over the wound, from one end to the other.

He laughed with pure joy. The wound was closed. He did the same with the exit wound on her back and it too closed up. The light dimmed around her and her soul drifted down, nestling back into her body.

Derrin glanced over his shoulder. The Highest and Liron had managed to restrain Seb. His arms were twisted to his back, his feet locked together. He writhed and howled against these restraints.

“What have you done, Derrin?” the Highest said, shaking his head. “You’ve made the same mistake again. I thought you’d learned from it.”

“Seb is an abomination,” Derrin said. “He shouldn’t be here and she shouldn’t have died by his hand.”

“That is not for you to decide,” the Highest said.

“In that case, is it truly for you to decide if I was meant to save her or not?” Derrin growled, scathingly, hugging Khaya to his body protectively. She was still unconscious, but her breathing was steady.

“It is not something I’m deciding,” the Highest said. “You have broken Collector law.” He grimaced as he spoke and Derrin realised the Highest had a bad cut to his arm.

“I couldn’t let her die,” Derrin whispered, once again torn in two by his decisions.

“What are we going to do with her?” Liron asked.

The Highest’s stare was troubled. “Find Suitra. Tell her she is to watch Khaya and not let her out of her sight.”

Liron nodded and vanished.

“Derrin,” the Highest said, “you must understand that you have my sympathy. And my gratitude. You came to me knowing it would seal your fate, yet you still came. The Collectors will for ever remember your name as that of a hero.”

“A hero who was sent to damnation,” Derrin said, regretting the words even as he spoke them. It wasn’t the Highest’s fault. It was no one’s fault but his own. He blew out a breath of air. Given the chance to choose again, he would still make the same choice. “I apologise. That wasn’t fair.”

Liron reappeared followed a second later by Suitra. Her small eyes raked over Derrin and Khaya with disdain.

“I would like to wait until she wakes before we go,” Derrin said. “I need to say goodbye.”

“I don’t think that is appropriate,” Liron said and Suitra nodded in accord. Derrin ignored them and looked to the Highest.

“I have your word you will not run again?” he asked.

“I swear it,” Derrin said.

“You can have your farewell. We will wait.” The Highest motioned for the others to follow him from the room. They had to carry Seb with them.

Suitra gave Derrin another scornful glare as she shut the door. He lifted Khaya onto the bed, laying her down and brushing her hair from her face. She looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her before.

He put his forehead to hers, then stepped back and sat down at the foot of the bed. He stared at her. What was he going to say to her? Maybe it would have been best to leave before she woke up. Suddenly, he felt selfish for needing to speak to her one last time. It would be easier for her if he wasn't there when she woke.

He stood and started towards the door. “Derrin?” Khaya croaked. “Are you leaving?”

“No,” he said, turning back to her. “Not until I’m sure you’re fine.”

“What happened?” she asked. “Did Seb get away?”

“No, the other Collectors managed to restrain him.”

Her eyes widened and she patted her chest. “Did I dream it, then? Did Seb not stab me in the chest?”

“He did. I healed you.”

“Oh, Derrin,” she said. “You shouldn’t have. Now they’ll definitively send you to damnation.”

“They were going to do that anyway. What more could they possibly do to me? Besides, even if they could punish me further, I couldn’t stand by and watch you die.”

She patted the bed next to her. “Sit.”

He perched to her side and she put a hand on his. “Where are they? The others that were here?”

“Downstairs.”

“Why don’t you run? You can Leap and be gone before they have any notion of your flight.”

“I’m done running away. It’s not an existence worth having. Not when I couldn’t be with you.”

“But you’ll be alive. You won’t be in damnation.”

“No. I’ve decided.”

Silent tears rolled down Khaya’s face. “How can I live knowing that you suffer in damnation? All because of me. Please, Derrin, run.”

“I can’t. Not anymore.” He wiped her tears away and kissed her, placing his lips softly on hers. He felt complete. At peace for the first time in fifteen years. “I love you. This was never your fault. You deserve life and I don’t regret what I did. Never doubt that.”

“I love you too.”

He couldn’t bear walking away from her, so instead Leapt the short distance to her kitchen downstairs. He took a shuddering breath and walked out to meet the others.

The Highest stood cradling his arm. “I can try to heal that,” Derrin said.

The Highest hesitated before nodding. Derrin laid his hands over the wound – it was worse than he’d thought, a little deeper and it could have been severed. Staring at it, he envisioned the wound knitting itself together, healing beneath his hands.

Heat spread from him into the Highest, but again, when he removed his hands, there was no visible improvement. He wiped his hand across the area, expecting it to heal as Khaya’s had, but nothing happened. “I don’t understand it,” he said. “I am doing exactly what I did to heal Khaya and it isn’t working. I failed to heal Zera as well. Khaya is the only person I’ve been able to heal.”

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Derrin found himself watching the Masters condemning Seb. Everything that had passed between leaving Khaya’s home and the present seemed vague, as though he was in a stupor. His attention came back to the moment when Seb spoke. “Why was I not given a second chance like all those gathered here?” he asked. “Why were they found worthy and I wasn’t?”

The Highest glanced down at the document before him. Apparently the true records of Seb’s judgement had been found. “You were a murderer in life,” he said after a while.

“How many gathered here are murderers? Derrin over there might look innocent, but I know for a fact that even he killed a man.”

“There is a difference between what they did and what you did,” Yarin said. “What you were.”

“Who are you to judge?”

“I am a Master. And you were convicted by five Masters. You were weighed and found wanting. You did not simply kill a man. You killed dozens. You stalked your prey. Captured them. Tortured them. And then killed them. You were truly evil. You revelled in the pain, suffering and death of others.”

“I wasn’t able to change in life,” Seb said. “That was who I was. But after I died, I felt different. I was different. I could have made up for my mistakes if I was given a chance.”

“That might have been a convincing argument,” the Highest said, “had you not spent the past few months undermining us, corrupting at least one of our own, and murdering once again.”

Seb was silent, his jaw tight and his hands balled into fists. His gaze swept across the Masters and the gathered Collectors. “You all think you are so far above all other souls. You are wrong. You deserve death and damnation just as much as I do. You tell yourselves you are redeeming yourselves, working for the greater good. You start believing your own lies. My only regret is that I didn’t succeed in slaying you.”

The Highest glanced down at his arm. It was bound with a cloth and although Collectors didn’t bleed, they felt pain. “I’ve heard enough,” he said. “Bring forth Shahemdilor.”

Seb began to squirm again, trying to free himself from his restraints. His eyes followed the blade as it was carried forward. “I escaped from there once,” he raved, “I will do so again. You are wasting your time!”

No matter how they questioned him, he had refused to disclose how he’d managed to escape from damnation in the first instance. That was something they might never know.

The Highest took Shahemdilor from the Collector and stood in front of Seb. “Sebrian Novari, you have committed heinous crimes. You will spend eternity in damnation, paying for them.”

Someone put a block in front of him and they forced him to his knees, bending him over so that his neck was extended and his head on the block. The Highest raised the sword up and swung it down.

It carried on straight through Seb’s neck, but didn’t sever it. Instead, his form started shimmering and then dulled until it dispersed like fog before the wind.

Derrin couldn’t help but grimace. Not on Seb’s behalf – he got what he deserved – but it would be his turn next. As much as he didn’t want to run anymore, he suddenly cursed himself for not taking the opportunity. Fear seized his soul and squeezed.

“Derrin,” the Highest said, “step forward.”

Judgement

“You stand accused of breaking our first law: no interference,” the Highest said. “You saved the life of a mortal. Twice directly, and continually you interfered to keep her safe from harm.”

A collective gasp ran through the room at the revelation that he’d saved her life again. “In recent days, you have reassessed your priorities. You put the guild of Collectors above your continued existence as part of our esteemed Order. We will be for ever grateful to you.” He paused, his mouth turning down at the corners. He folded his hands together in front of him. “That, however, cannot change your fate. The penalty for breaking our first law is damnation.

“Does anyone wish to add anything else?”

Derrin had been here before. Sentenced to damnation. The last time, he’d taken this opportunity to plead for forgiveness and mercy. There was none forthcoming then, and he knew there would be none now. His execution was set for the day after his trial then – that would not be the case this time. He knew that as much as it pained him, the Highest wanted to put the whole distasteful episode behind him.

Silence.

“Then we are all in agreement.”

Derrin’s eyes flicked from the windows to the two doors, one at the back of the room and one to the side that led to a small courtyard. Fighting down the urge to try to Leap even though the ward was still in place, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

There was no more running.

He blinked and the block was in front of him. A hand on his back forced him down to his knees. He caught the Highest’s eyes. Sorrow. That’s what he liked to believe was in that gaze.

The hand pushed him down, putting his forehead against the hard wood. A strange puffing, wheezing noise buzzed in his ear. He realised it was his breathing.

He peered up. The Highest was standing in front of him, Shahemdilor in hand. The blade lifted up and out of sight. Derrin closed his eyes, trying to still himself. His hands were shaking and he balled them into fists.

He caught the merest of intakes of breath as the Highest prepared to drive the sword down.

A crashing sound. Doors slamming open.

“Stop!” a woman’s voice boomed through the quiet room.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Derrin opened his eyes. The tip of the sword hung by the Highest’s side. His free hand lifted and someone pulled Derrin up. He remained on his knees. A rustle of fabric as everyone gathered in the Hall of Angels sank down on one knee – even the Highest.

Derrin’s back was to the door and whoever had stayed his execution. He itched to turn around. Heavy footsteps tracked the newcomer’s progress to the front of the room. She swept past everyone, but didn’t step onto the dais. “You may rise,” she said. 

Derrin started standing up with everyone else, but a rough hand shoved him back down. “Him too,” the woman said.

Stomach cramping from the tension, Derrin stood. The woman was a good seven feet tall and had long silver hair that glistened. Even from where he stood, Derrin could see her deep emerald eyes. She exuded authority. One couldn’t help but feel in awe. “Highest Aretez,” she said and Derrin had to stifle his gasp. No one addressed the current Highest by anything but their title. “You are not permitted to carry out this judgement.”

“My Lady,” the Highest said, “I do not understand. Derrin Rhai is guilty of breaking our first law on more than one occasion. The just punishment for that is nothing less than damnation.”

“I am fully aware of the situation. I have been the Overseer assigned to monitor this particular case.”

“Do you have an alternative punishment in mind?”

“We do not punish actions that were predestined.”

“Predestined, my Lady?”

The Overseer’s eyes flashed. Surely, she was never questioned, never made to explain. But she contained her anger. “This was a highly unusual set of circumstances,” she said. “That is the only reason I will take time to explain.

“Have you not noticed that Derrin isn’t able to heal any but Khaya Pherela? He failed to heal Zera and you yourself?”

Derrin’s eyes dropped down in shame. “Do not lower your gaze,” the Overseer said. “It was not a failing on your part. You could only ever heal Khaya. This was because she was meant to continue living. She was destined to have a long life.

“And you were destined to save her life.”

“For what purpose?” the Highest asked.

“That is beyond even me,” the Overseer said. “Suffice it to know, she had to live. Derrin’s entire existence, his life that led him to become a Collector and everything that followed was leading him to that day – to that encounter with the little Khaya.”

“So, you are saying he had no control over what he did?”

“Of course he did. We all have choices. Those choices lead us down one route or the next. He could have chosen to uphold Collector law and allowed her to die. Bad choices will lead you down a dark path. That way ultimately leads to damnation.”

“You are saying Derrin made a bad choice,” the Highest said.

“No. Good choices can also lead to a difficult path.”

“But,” the Highest said, “he wouldn’t have known that it was the right choice to let her live.”

“It cannot always be known at the time of the decision, which would be the correct action. Derrin would have had to decide what felt right for him at the time. In this instance, he made the right choice.”

“What does all this mean?” Derrin asked. “I broke Collector law, yet you say it was the right thing to do. Where does this leave me?”

“You have redeemed yourself,” the Overseer said with a small smile. “If you so choose, you can enter paradise.”

“Oh,” Derrin said, baffled. “If I choose? What is the alternative? Do I have the option of staying a Collector?”

“No, your time as a Collector is done. You can no longer function in this capacity.” She paused, the smile dropping from her face. “As a reward for what you’ve done, you may return to life.”

A gasp ran through the room followed by a murmur of talk. “Forgive me,” the Highest said, “that does not make sense. As Collectors we are forbidden to interfere. Now, not only are you saying that he did right, but that he gets rewarded. He can choose to go back to earth? To live a life that was destined to end decades ago? This doesn’t add up.”

The Overseer seemed to grow in stature, towering even further over everyone. “You are not permitted to interfere because you are like ants. You see only what lies before your miniscule feet. As an Overseer I am blessed with the ability to see much beyond the here and now. I am able to see what consequences there would be and assess whether they are desirable.” She turned to the Highest. “And please, recall the one you sent to keep watch over Khaya. She is free to do as she pleases and needn’t be monitored.”

“You mean,” Derrin said, still disbelieving, “I can choose to resume my old life?”

“You will go back at the age you were when you died. As for taking up your old life, that is for you to decide. After all, it is your life.”

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

The view was amazing. Standing on top of Inarepmi mountain, Derrin could see for miles in the fresh dawn light. For the first time in years, he noticed the birdsong heralding the new day. Even the air smelled sweet.

“It is time,” the Overseer said behind him and he turned to face her. “You are certain you do not wish to enter paradise?”

“I am sure of where I want to go.” He eyed Shahemdilor in her hands with some trepidation. He’d seen the damage that blade had done to the Highest’s arm and seen it nearly kill Khaya – he’d seen it kill Zera.

The Overseer placed the tip against Derrin’s bare chest, positioning it directly over his still heart. The blade turned gold, emanating a strange light. “
Arentey, ghoratem, falandara!
” the Overseer intoned and plunged the blade through Derrin’s heart.

His mouth dropped open and instinctively, he grabbed the pommel. It felt as though he’d been hit by lightning, its tendrils reaching throughout his entire body.

Sinking to his knees, he looked up at the Overseer who still held the sword. “Live an honourable life, Derrin Rhai,” she said.

He dropped to his side. Strangely, he was still aware of the birdsong and the ever-lightening sky.

His breathing slowed and he closed his eyes.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Khaya wiped away a tear as she closed her front door for what would be the last time. She didn’t care about leaving her home. Not really. But she’d stayed there for as long as she’d dared, hoping that against all odds, Derrin would come back.

When first light had brought yet another morning without him, she realised it was time to face cold reality. He’d been punished. He’d been sent to… She couldn’t even bring herself to think it. It was unbearable. She hated the Collectors for it. How could they do that?

She allowed herself a last look back at her home as she walked down the dusty road towards the market place. Suddenly it seemed empty and forlorn.

She couldn’t bring herself to return any of the smiles she got from stall keepers. Her face felt frozen. As if she would never again be able to smile. To feel happy. She forced back her tears as she thanked the man who handed her the bread. Stuffing it into her bag, she set off towards the northern road.

With no idea of where she was heading, choosing which road to take had posed no problem. She didn’t care and until leaving the marketplace, she didn’t know which way she would go. The northern road seemed as good as any. They all led in the same direction. Away from Derrin.

Gritting her teeth, she squinted to clear her vision beneath her tears, and forced him from her thoughts.

Thundering horse’s hooves were racing towards her and she stepped off the road to let the rider past. At that pace, he was likely to knock her off her feet if she kept walking along.

A cloud of dust enveloped her as the rider drew rein just before he reached her. Waving a hand in front of her angrily, she said, “Didn’t you see? I got out of the road. You could have passed easily!”

Eyes full of grit and watering, she squinted at him as he jumped from his horse. She backed away, looking behind her for attackers. Bandits were about further afield, but surely they wouldn’t dare come this close to town?

“Who would pass by a woman as lovely as you?” a familiar voice said.

He sounded like Derrin, but that was impossible. She must have been imagining things. “I have little money. I carry nothing of value.”

“Perhaps you should look at me again,” he said as he stepped from behind his horse.

The dust settled and Khaya gaped at him, stomach fluttering. “Derrin?”

He stepped towards her. He looked different somehow, except that he didn’t. “How is this possible?” she asked. “Are you on the run? Did you change your mind? Are you coming with me?” she asked, traitorous hope blooming in her heart.

“No. We’re not running away together,” he said and her smile melted.

It had been too much to hope for.
Foolish woman,
she cursed herself. “Why are you here then?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest to stop herself from reaching out to him.

“I am here for you.”

“Am I going to die?” she asked, confused.

He burst out laughing and put his hands on her arms. “Hopefully not for a very long time.”

“Then why? And how did you find me?”

“I went by your house first of course, but when I didn’t find you there, I went to the market. I asked a few people and they said you’d been there not long ago and one observant young man had seen you heading north.”

“So, you haven’t answered –” she cut off, realising what he’d said. “What do you mean you asked some people? And why were you riding a horse?”

“I’m human, Khaya.”

“You’re not making sense, is what you are. What are you talking about?”

He drew her closer and kissed her. It was even sweeter than before. He wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tight, he kissed her on the top of her head. “I’m human,” he repeated.

Khaya looked up, put her hands on the back of his head, and pulled him into another kiss.

She was safe.

She was home.