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“So… Balor killed Derith, and then Derith killed Balor,” I say with an unamused snort. “How poetic.”
“And yet, neither ended up all the way dead,” the witch says.
“Why was that?”
“There were stipulations to my bringing Derith back from the dead.”
My eyes narrow of their own accord. “Stipulations?” I repeat. “What kind of stipulations?”
“Embedded into the fibers of my life-giving curse, I barred Balor from killing Derith again,” she answers with a shrug. “And I made Derith invulnerable to the blade of others, so Balor could not send assassins after him.”
“So, Balor sent monsters instead.”
The witch pulls a face. “Yes,” she says on a sigh, shaking her head. “I didn’t quite plan for that one.”
“So the mighty witch made a mistake?” I frown.
She looks at me. “We all are subject to mistakes, child.”
“Anyway,” I say and make a motion with my hand to tell her to get on with it.
“Anyway, there is only one human who can harm Derith.”
“Who?”
“The reincarnation of Suisse.”
I have a sinking feeling in my gut because I have a feeling I know just who this reincarnation of Suisse is… “Why?”
The witch shakes her head. “Whys are no fun.”
But I’m only half-hearing her as I realize something and my heart starts pounding in earnest. I flash back to that fight in the woods, when I met Derith for the first time. I cut him. I drew his blood. That’s why he was so stunned.
“That’s right,” the witch says. “You are that woman; the reincarnation of Suisse, Balor’s wife, Derith’s conquest. You are the only one who can stop the Lord D’Orsay from overtaking…”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“No?” she asks, looking a little shocked
“No,” I repeat, a little louder and a lot more vehemently. “I don’t have time for this crap.”
“Don’t have time?” she insists, shaking her head. “Child, this is your destiny.”
“Destiny pestiny,” I reply, sticking my tongue out at the very thought. “My destiny is killing monsters and getting paid, and that’s it. I’m only interested in avenging my family.”
“We do not choose our fates.”
“Maybe you didn’t choose yours,” I answer, looking around her hovel in distaste—no wonder she’s so difficult—if this is what fate brought her, I want no part in it. “But Icanchoose to avoid this one, and that’s exactly what I’m doing,” I finish, and before she has the opportunity to say another word, I turn and run out the door.
And smack dab into Derith.
***
“Ah, just the escaped prisoner I was looking for,” Derith says, giving me a practiced grin.
“And just the bastard of a jailer I was seeking to avoid,” I grumble as I glance behind me to see what’s become of the witch but to my total surprise, she, her hovel, and her dish-cleaning trees are nowhere to be seen.
“I’m not here to take you anywhere against your will,” Derith insists, holding up his hands as if he’s the prime example of harmless. Something he is decidedly NOT.
