Eleven #3
A grim look passed through his eyes. “I just wish I knew what was happening,” he said, gazing at the trees. “Why there are suddenly so many restless spirits now. We’ve always known they roam these lands, but never in such numbers, and never all at once.”
“Maybe it has something to do with the Deathless King coming back?” I suggested.
“Maybe,” Raithe said, crossing his arms. “I don’t see how it would, though, unless . . .” He trailed off, sudden understanding
flickering over his face.
“Unless it’s the king who killed them that has returned,” Halek said quietly.
We all glanced at the Fatechaser in surprise. He shrugged. “You said the name of the king who destroyed these lands has been
lost to time,” he told Raithe. “But if he’s back, and he did kill an entire nation of people, I would think the spirits left
behind would know. And they wouldn’t be happy about it.”
I suddenly remembered something the queen had told me in the throne room, right before we’d left. He has already tried to wipe out my people once. If he becomes the new god of Fate, he will certainly finish the job.
“That would make sense,” Raithe agreed, his eyes narrow and dark. “And if it is true, then the Deathless we’re going face
is the one who turned this whole valley to stone, who tried to kill my people all those centuries ago.”
“Yes,” Kysa said, also sounding grim. “It also means he’s getting closer.”
We rested a bit in the tower, taking turns at watch so everyone could grab a couple hours of the sleep that had been denied us the previous night.
I spent most of my watch time with Ratuk, rubbing down his carapace, feeding him the dry twigs he enjoyed, and telling him over and over again what a good boy he was.
In true Ratuk fashion, he accepted the praise with his usual stoicism, calmly chewing the sticks I offered.
His demeanor had completely changed from the raging berserker of last night, but I knew it was there, buried beneath his tough shell.
And the knowledge that I could call on it with a touch filled me with both pride and terror.
As I was wiping down the bottom half of his shell, Ratuk suddenly moved. His carapace half opened, and the wings inside gave
a loud, brief buzz, before the shell closed again. It was a natural behavior, similar to a dog or a horse shaking itself,
but it still made me jump. Ratuk settled down again, chewing contentedly on a branch, but worry gnawed at me. I’d checked
his injured wing earlier, and though the gash in the membrane hadn’t gotten any bigger, it didn’t seem to be healing, either.
If we kept trekking through lands as dangerous as this, fighting our way through statues and other monstrosities, I wondered
if it would ever heal, or if it would cripple him permanently.
With a sigh, I gave him the last of the twigs in my hand, smiling as he took them as daintily as a cat. Which, given the strength
and crushing power of those mandibles, was pretty impressive.
“You’ll spoil him if you keep that up.”
Kysa appeared around the rock beetle, smiling faintly.
Her dark gaze swept over Ratuk appraisingly, before she nodded once in satisfaction.
“But at least you’re keeping his shell polished,” she observed.
“Good. His previous owner had a tendency to let it get a bit dusty and cracked. I’m sure Ratuk appreciates the attention. ”
I patted the rock beetle’s now much shinier shell, seeing hints of metallic green in the veneer. “He was pretty amazing,”
I said. “I’m glad we didn’t have to leave him behind.”
“Yes,” Kysa said, sounding a bit more serious now. “That is what I need to talk to you about.
“Back in the square,” she continued, as unease flickered inside me, “the kahjai told me to flee with you and Halek on Rhyne,
and leave him and Ratuk behind to battle the horde. You did not take him up on that offer, but instead put yourself and Ratuk
in danger to fight our way free.” Her dark eyes narrowed—not accusingly, but my stomach still twisted under her piercing stare.
“Why?”
I frowned. “I couldn’t leave either of them,” I told her. “They would have died. I’m Ratuk’s rider—he’s my responsibility.
You told me that yourself. And Raithe . . .” I faltered. Kysa had not forgiven Raithe for his evasiveness about the Deathless
queen. Perhaps she never would. “Raithe has to lead us to the World Scar,” I finished. “And, no matter what he’s done, he’s
still a good fighter. I couldn’t leave him there to get ripped apart by the shades of his own people.”
“Yes,” Kysa said. “You could have. The offer had already been made. He was willing to sacrifice his life to make sure the
Fateless continued on. You chose not to accept. You made the decision to stay and fight, though the odds of making it out
alive were slim.”
“I’m confused, Kysa.” I gave her a puzzled frown. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I thought you would be happy that I chose not to leave Ratuk behind.”
“I am.” The insect rider nodded, her dark eyes still piercing as they gazed at me. “But you are not just a rider. You are
the Fateless. You are the only one who can touch the Loom of Maederyss—the only one who can see the Loom of Maederyss. And the only one who can claim the power of a goddess. What this will do to your body is uncertain,
but one thing is clear. If you die, the Deathless King stands unopposed to do whatever he wishes. The queen cannot slay him—even
in the legends, the Deathless cannot destroy one of their own. She might be able to slow him down. Or she might decide to
take her people and vanish from the world again. But she cannot stop him. The only one who stands a sliver of a chance against
the Deathless King . . . is you.”
“You know, Kysa, you didn’t have to come out here just to torture me. I’m already terrified beyond reason.”
The insect rider sighed. “I am sorry, Sparrow,” she said.
“I don’t mean to put this burden on you, but you must hear the truth from someone.
There will probably come a time when you have to choose between saving one person or saving the world from the Deathless King.
Or to make the choice to live, even if it means that someone sacrifices themself in your stead.
You . . . have come so far from that girl I first met on the strider.
” Her gaze softened, genuine pride and affection shining through those dark eyes.
“I understand what Raithe sees in you. He always believed you could be the hero that would stand up to the Deathless King. Unfortunately, heroes walk hand in hand with sacrifice. And sometimes they have to know when to let go, even if it means losing someone they care for.”
I slumped against Ratuk, which was like leaning against a brick wall. The beetle didn’t move an inch as I pressed into him.