Riddle of Fate

by Tania Johansson

  “Yes,” Derrin said, “but who is he going to go after?” A prickle ran down Derrin’s back as he asked the question. “Khaya said something that I didn’t pay much attention to at the time. She said Seb told her that if it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have offered her a second chance, since he wasn’t given one.”

  The Highest gave him a blank look, obviously not connecting the dots.

  “I need to go to Khaya,” Derrin said.

  “That wasn’t part of the agreement,” the Highest said, voice stern.

  “Don’t you see? She’s in danger! I think Seb will go after her.”

  “That’s a bit of a leap,” Liron said.

  “Even if I’m wrong, we have no better leads to follow. I say, we go to Khaya’s home and see what we find.”

  “I thought you said you don’t know where she is,” the Highest said.

  “I don’t. I told her to leave her home.”

  The Highest’s face darkened.

  “I hope she’s taken my advice,” Derrin said stubbornly. “We’re wasting time.”

  “Lead the way,” the Highest said.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Khaya sat at her little kitchen table, her soup cold in front of her. She tapped her fingers on the table absently. Tomorrow. She’d leave tomorrow. She didn’t know where she was going. It didn’t really matter. As long as it was far away.

  She’d been trying to convince herself that it was some great adventure that she was going on. Starting afresh somewhere new. Not defined by her abilities nor governed by them. She’d be safe again.

  Without Derrin. It always came back to him.

  She didn’t want to ask herself the question why she hadn’t left yet. Danger was on her doorstep here. But she couldn’t escape the answer even if she wasn’t asking. If she left, how would Derrin find her again?

  She blew out a breath in a puff. She threw out the soup and washed her bowl. As she walked into the hallway, movement caught her eye. She looked to the left and saw Seb coming through the door. Straight through it. Not Leaping into the house like a Collector, but coming in through the door like… a ghost!

  He smiled at her – it didn’t touch his eyes – and he opened the door, retrieving a sword from the ground outside. Khaya backed away, eyeing the sword. She recognised it. It was the one that had been used to kill Zera.

  “You aren’t a Collector, are you?” she said.

  His smile spread and he nodded. “At last. Took you some time to work that out.”

  “What are you then?”

  “Dead,” he said, the smile finally slipping off his face. “For some time now. I didn’t find damnation to my taste, so I left.”

  “And you couldn’t come back to life so you decided to become a Collector?”

  “Ha! Never. They tossed me aside. I wasn’t good enough for them – not worthy of having a second chance. What makes you so special?” He waved the strange sword around as he spoke and took a step closer to her, jabbing the air between them. Khaya backed away. “It wasn’t enough that you stole a life that you should never have had. No! They decide to offer you acceptance to the Collectors after your undeserved life comes to an end.”

  “I don’t think your grievance is with me,” Khaya said. “I haven’t done anything to –”

  “No, you haven’t, have you? Everything just fell into your lap. I know exactly who is to blame. I’m starting with you, because that is going to hurt the one who’s next on my list: Derrin.”

  He lunged at her and she barely managed to angle out of the way, scrambling back. She had nowhere to go, but up the stairs. She took them three at a time, her heart beating in her throat.

  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.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  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 dispe
rsed 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.”

  Chapter Thirty Six

  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.