Inexorable: Part Seven

      It was so easy to stay here like this, doing nothing, enjoying the sun and the joy of all the world…

      But every day, Ryddle's enjoyment of the beautiful place that was close to becoming a surrogate home was marred by the thought of Phantom, Sylver, Flytta, and Scrappy. And all the other villagers.

      Then, on his fourth day, he quite abruptly realized what he had been doing.

      It came to him while he was lying under a willow tree, listening to the birds, the stream, and the gentle breeze rustling across the meadow flowers. Suddenly he sat up with a jolt. As though some curse had been broken, Ryddle felt horrible, guilty beyond belief. His violent upright movement sent a rabbit scurrying off, but it didn't matter to him. He had been borrowing time and pleasure, basking in sunny relaxation while his friends faced danger and maybe even death. How could he not have seen this before?

      Feeling angrier than he ever had in his life, Ryddle jumped to his feet, raking grass out in gouges and leaving bare earth. He marched into Illusen's house.

      She was just assigning a quest to a little Kyrii that reminded Ryddle irresistibly of Tom. Another he had betrayed, he thought, the remembrance like a cold dagger to his heart.

      The Faerie whirled around, surprise written on every lovely feature. Strangely enough, however, Ryddle no longer felt comforted and soothed by her exquisite beauty. "You've been keeping me here somehow, haven't you?" he challenged brazenly.

      She stared at him. Then she smiled charmingly. "Ah, so you have finally realized. It is good that you found yourself in time."

      "What do you mean?" asked Ryddle a little shyly, completely taken aback.

      "It is a danger that all who seek shelter here must face. I am relieved that you have passed the test. I was beginning to think you were wrong for the fate I had predicted after all."

      "F - fate?"

      "Yes, Ryddle. Fate. When I saw you, and you revealed to me that the shard was in your possession, I knew that there was something you were destined to do. Unsure of what, I waited, knowing that if you could resist living out all the years of your life here, you would be one of the few who will truly make a difference in the fate of Meridell."

      Ryddle paused, doing his best to drink this all in. "You speak as though I were going to do something important," he said slowly. "What can I do?"

      "Come, now, surely your experiences have taught you one thing at least?" She laughed, a tinkling, silvery laugh. "You must never go looking for your destiny. Let it come to you, Ryddle, for I promise you it will."

      That was when Ryddle heard the screeches. Time seemed to freeze.

      ***

      "What's that?" asked Ryddle, his voice sounding strangely higher than usual, dreading the answer.

      Illusen stood frozen. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide, and an expression of intense horror shadowed her face. "They're coming," she whispered.

      In another moment, this fact became clear. The bloodcurdling screeches were growing louder and sharper by the second, heralding the arrival of some mighty beasts. Or, for that matter, any number of them.

      Ryddle stood torn by indecision. What was there to do? If he hid, whatever it was would most likely tear the house to pieces to get at the shard. For Ryddle had no doubt that the shard of the Orb was what they had come for. Would it be sheer stupidity to step out and offer it to them? Then he remembered that he was with a Faerie.

      Relief flooded him. "Illusen!" he cried. "Can't you go out and do something to stop them?"

      Slowly, almost as though she were paralyzed, Illusen shook her head. "No. There is nothing I can do."

      Ryddle decided that there was no time to protest. Instead he whirled around to gaze out the window.

      He felt the now-familiar panic rising. Skimming towards them on the horizon, faster than he cared to think, were five black shapes. Somehow he felt that the small hut was going to be of less use protecting them than Illusen. The Faerie still stood transfixed, and Ryddle bit down the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her slender form until it shattered like crystal. She had to be able to help. She had magical powers.

      To his surprise, his voice was completely steady as he faced the Faerie once again. A deadly calm had fallen over him, wreathing itself around everything he did and said. But not what he thought. His mind was still a swirling maze, an enigma of convoluted decisions.

      "If you can do nothing to save us, at least advise me on what course of action I should take," Ryddle said. In a way, it was more of a demand.

      "You cannot hide," murmured the Faerie. "Forgive me, Ryddle."

      Ryddle darted backward as a flash of green light exploded from somewhere deep within the Faerie. Forced to blink, he cursed whatever was out there; when he looked again she was gone. All that remained as a requiem for Illusen was a tendril of smoke, wafting in the air for a moment before disappearing as well.

      He stared. Then he laughed. "Nothing is real anymore," he said loudly, and he felt his heart lift. What did it matter? What did anything matter? He strolled out to meet whatever was out there.

      Talons gripped the back of his neck, pulling him upward. It was rather painful…and the ground was swirling under him…

      ***

      Ryddle was surprised to see that it was no longer a beautiful day. Moreover, the surface he was lying on was not cloud-soft, as his bed at Illusen's Glade was, but hard and cold.

      He rolled over and became more aware of himself. Pain seared at the base of his neck and some way down his back. All his muscles were stiff and sore beyond belief. One wing was difficult to move, stiffer than anything else - presumably because he had been lying on it. Despite minor discomforts, however, he seemed to be all in one piece. So he lifted his body - when had it gotten so heavy? - from the stone ground with an effort.

      Suddenly memory flooded back to him, and he collapsed again with shock. Images shot through his mind like missiles, causing far more pain than the sting of his back. Phantom…Sylver…Flytta…Scrappy…Illusen!

      Where was Illusen?

      She had disappeared in a blinding flash of light, and shock had claimed him. He knew that now. He also knew that it would not happen again. Life had pushed him to the limits, and he had conquered it. Even knowing this, he looked wildly around. All his eyes met was stone: stone walls, stone floor. No wonder it had seemed so hard and cold. Was this a dungeon?

      In a flash, something else occurred to him: the shard. His talons grasped for the stone, fumbling with it as they touched the smooth surface. Good. That at least was there.

      Now it was time to get a better look.

      Ryddle heaved himself off the stone. He found that he had miscalculated; he wasn't in a dungeon, but atop some sort of castle battlements. A lightning energy was pouring into him from some unknown source, and although he ached all over, and everything had gone wrong, he felt ready for anything.

      At least, he felt ready until his eyes finally met what stood right in front of him. He recognized it all - the armor, the stance, the cruel hooked beak and red eyes. Some small part of his mind commented that this was some of how others saw him. But there was no time for that.

      "Why, hello, little Eyrie," the figure greeted him.

      It was true, he thought bleakly. Lord Kass was just as tall as Ryddle had ever imagined him, and as frightening. The difference was that Ryddle had once thought of Kass as a hero. Now, he was on the wrong side.

      And as Ryddle stared wordlessly at the creature that was about to rule Meridell, he knew that he could never have supported him. He never would, either. If he had to die for the sake of the shard, so be it - Darigan had died for it too. But he wouldn't give it up. If there was anything worse than rule by Lord Kass, it was his rule accompanied by one of the most powerful artifacts in Neopia.

      He knew that he could only incriminate himself with speech, so he stayed silent.

      "Perhaps you don't quite understand yet, Ryddle," hissed Kass. "I will have the shard, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Your decision is whether I get it now and you live - or whether I get it in a minute or two, and you die."

      Still Ryddle held back his words.

      Kass took a menacing step closer. "The greatest knight of Meridell just fell to me. And yet you still think you can resist and keep your life?"

      Not really, no, thought Ryddle. He wasn't going to say it, though. Minute by minute, the feeling was growing that Kass had to extract something from him before he could take the shard. Ryddle's best chance was simple insubordination.

      "Then let me share something with you: you can't. So give it up now."

      In spite of all his troubles, Ryddle thought he even could have smiled. It was obvious that Lord Kass was not used to being denied something. Well, he would have to learn at some point.

      All the same, Ryddle cringed at the flash of hatred and anger in Kass's red eyes, like a physical blow. "I said now!" snarled the massive Eyrie.

      Ryddle tried to concentrate on something else. He could feel it now, pushing against the edges of his consciousness, doing its best to find a weak spot. Exactly what it was, he couldn't say; but all the same, he felt it was something terrible.

      He could just see off the ledge he was standing on. Before he hadn't really noticed the screams beneath him. As he looked, he saw a battle going on. There were knights there, wearing Meridell's livery. Then where was Jeran? It took Ryddle a moment to remember the news of Jeran's death. He couldn't have been in this attack, then, could he? Or couldn't he? Everything was too jumbled for Ryddle to sort out.

      Try as he might, though, he couldn't stop himself from turning his head at the sharp, metallic ring of a sword being drawn. He felt himself tremble, almost as if his body were detached from his mind, as the blade traced a thin line along his throat. Kass's anger burned all around him.

      "I'm really not playing here," Lord Kass whispered. Fires below sent shadows flitting across his features, illuminating Ryddle's fear. "I'll give you ten seconds. Ten…"

      Ryddle looked downward desperately. Kass's forces were slaughtering Meridell's army, weak and pathetic in comparison. Yet they still fought as knights.

      "Nine…"

      Like Ryddle himself, they refused to act. In a figurative manner, that was. Perhaps they could have had victory, if only they would lower themselves to the level of the dark warriors they opposed.

      "Eight…"

      Or no, maybe not. It was obvious who was stronger.

      "Seven…"

      And looking at Kass, Ryddle found it easy to predict what would happen in single combat with him.

      "Six…"

      "No!" Ryddle burst out. He realized all at once that he couldn't just let himself die like this, without at least one solid try.

      Lord Kass nodded and sheathed the sword, eyes narrowed with malicious pleasure. "Ah. Now we are getting results. So, Ryddle, what are you prepared to ask of me in return for the shard?"

      "Hmm," said Ryddle, pretending to think. It was all for the act, as he knew he would never put that sort of power in this Eyrie's hands. The sheer force of evil that lay in Kass dominated everything around him, and even thinking was a difficult task for Ryddle now. "Why don't you call off your army and let Meridell take control of the Darigan Citadel?"

      The sword was out again in an instant. "Just how stupid do you think I am? Let's put it another way: if you were to put a price on your life, what would it be? Because unless you're a very quick thinker, you're about to lose it."

      Gazing up at Lord Kass, Ryddle found courage. He would not, could not let someone this evil take over the land that had been his home. "Fairly stupid. I'll never give this to you. You need something from me, don't you?"

      "GIVE IT TO ME!" shrieked Kass, darting forward to whip a claw out for the shard.

      Ryddle rolled over in a pathetic attempt to dodge the attack. Miraculously, it worked; his life was saved for the moment. Only for the moment, it seemed, because Kass was preparing to lash back. With chill dread, Ryddle realized that this time it would be with his sword.

      Maybe he had miscalculated. If Kass was prepared to kill him for it, did he need anything out of Ryddle? Or had he already gotten what he wanted? I never should have spoken, thought Ryddle bitterly. It was my best chance. He seemed unable to dispel his selfish feelings.

      Then an idea came to him. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He knew the answer: because it would ensure his death. But nothing could save him now. He had to get rid of the shard.

      With all the strength he had left, Ryddle ripped the shard from his neck and flung it over the edge.

      Lord Kass watched it fall for a moment. He made a motion as if to go after it; then he turned back to Ryddle. The sword in his hand glistened in the flame-light. "You," he said quietly. That one word held in it everything Ryddle had ever feared. Above all, life's greatest, most fundamental wish is to go on. Now he was about to die. There was nothing he could do about it, and no one was going to save him.

      Kass lifted the blade, and Ryddle closed his eyes, bracing himself for the first and last blow he would ever take.

      It did not fall. Ryddle opened his eyes, just a slit, dreading the sight of the sword swinging like quicksilver through the air, but it wasn't there. Instead, Kass was staring in horror at a looming, shadowy figure hoisting itself over the ledge of the battlement.

      Lord Darigan!

      "You?" Kass gasped. "You're - "

      "Dead? I thought I was dead too." Darigan grinned, as eerie as Lord Kass in the dim light. Ryddle wasn't paying much attention, though. Suddenly life flooded into him as he realized that he had made the sacrifice - and he was alive. He would stay alive.

      Ryddle smiled. Resisting the impulse to get up and give Darigan a friendly hug, he watched the battle - this time as a spectator.

      He had a feeling he knew who would win. It was, after all, inexorable.

      Fate never truly deserted you.

The End