XXV

(NaNoWriMo - Day 12)

Suddenly, she began to feel tired and the pain in her head started to return.

“Inri?” she asked, using his new name this time, “Am I dying?”

“Does it frighten you?” he replied.

“Not so much,” she answered truthfully. “Hardly. And certainly less than when that snake attacked. In fact, perhaps I’m ready. What is left for me in this life? If my family are all in your country as you say… And the pain would be less…”

“Is that really what you want, Susan?” asked Inri, with caution in his voice.

“I…I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “There have been times when it hurts so much, I just want it all to end – regardless of whether there’s hope of a future or not. I just want to stop feeling. But lately…being on this mission…I don’t know. I feel like I could move on and build a new life for myself. Maybe I could stay here with these creatures, like we did all those years in Narnia, and leave the pain of my world behind.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. This world is so different. With no other humans: the food they eat and how they live. I’m not sure I could make it permanent.”

Inri nodded in understanding. “And there’s something else?”

Susan frowned.

“Someone else?”

She was still puzzled. “Oh,” she blushed. “You mean David? There was a time when I thought… But no. I was wrong about him. He was never interested in me for my sake. It was only the rings.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Susan,” the eagle answered. “Why do you think he returned for you?”

“A sense of duty, I suppose. And it wasn’t just me. The others were in trouble too. Besides. Even if he did care, I don’t think I’d ever forgive him. He manipulated my weakness and held back the truth from me when I had bared my heart to him. I can’t forgive him for that.”

“Susan.” The eagle was frowning and Susan could almost imagine, had he been in lion-form, a low growl accompanying the tone of voice.

“What? Maybe I’m being harsh, but I’m not sure I could ever trust him again. I wouldn’t know if he was holding back things from me or using me.”

“Susan.” That wary tone of voice again, and a hint of resignation. “Through all that’s happened, have you learnt nothing of forgiveness and trust?”

“Oh? How foolish of me! You have forgiven my disloyalty and abandoning of you. Even denying you. And here I can’t forgive David.” She pushed her teary face into his feathers again. “I suppose I’m just destined to fail? But it is hard. And you know that whether or not I’m truly sorry, how do I know that he is?”

“You don’t. It’s all about trust again. It’s a choice. As you have chosen to trust me again. But you needn’t decide at once. Give him time to show if he is really sorry and if he really cares. But I shall tell you one thing that might aid your decision. In fact, it’s something you need to know anyway.

“Susan, they’ve found the seed.”

Susan let of a little gasp. “How wonderful! Have they planted it yet? How long will it take to grow? May I see it?”

“All in good time, my dear. But no, they haven’t planted it. You see, they have a decision to make. The seed could cure you.”

Susan stared at him, astounded. “But…that would prevent them planting it! They’d never do such a thing! Not after all this work!”

“No, they probably won’t. They haven’t decided. But once they’ve weighed up the potential benefit to future generations – they will come to the conclusion that they should plant it. They will find the decision unbearable, however, and that’s what’s putting them off making it. You’ve become so important to them that, if you asked them to use it on you instead, they would.

“David, however; David made up his mind a long time ago. He will fight them to use it on you. He hasn’t realised this, but if it came to it, he’d probably even steal it for you. The fear of losing you will outweigh his better judgement – and that is not something he often allows to happen. I thought you should know that.”

“Oh, how terrible!” answered Susan. “All this over me!? Well I must put an end to it at once. It doesn’t matter if I die. I’ve said I’m ready. And I’ll be with my family again.”

“Susan, I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad, or to make you wish for your life to end. I wanted you to understand how much you mean to David. And to the others. You are not so insignificant as you think. Think about that, and don’t worry about the seed. It’s time I let you rest again. Sleep now my child.”

With that, Inri breathed over Susan and she fell into a peaceful rest, unlike the feverish sleep she’d become accustomed to in the last days.

**************

While Susan slept, Inri returned to where the other creatures sat and discussed the choice that lay before them. David had returned too and was still vehemently arguing on Susan’s behalf.

“Lord Inri,” said Vixel, speaking for them all, as he joined them. “We seem to have reached an impasse. Most of us agree that the seed should be planted, but none of us want to do so at Susan’s expense.”

“Most of you?” It wasn’t necessary for all heads to turn in David’s direction to make it obvious who was holding out.

“How is she?” asked Ratel.

“More at ease, for the moment,” replied the Eagle. “I let her go back to sleep. I know you are all anxious to talk to her but she needs the rest. Our conversation was long and intense, though necessary. A couple hours and she may be ready to see you.”

“Did you tell her about the seed?” asked Hedegar.

“I did. She was eager to see it.”

“Did you…tell her about our dilemma?” Scaltard voiced the question they were all wondering.

“I did. And for what it’s worth, she thinks you should plant it. She said that she doesn’t want you sacrificing it for her. And I know she’d always feel a little guilty if you did.”

“Well she would say that,” complained David. “But it shouldn’t be her decision. Not alone anyway. She’s unwell and under pressure.”

“David, we all care about Susan as much as you do…,” began Vixel.

“But that’s just it!” David shouted back. “If you did, this wouldn’t be a dilemma. You’d know exactly what to do. I don’t get it,” he added with frustration, “I would give my life for hers. Even if she doesn’t mean as much to you, I would have thought you would feel the same after all she’s done for you!”

“David,” replied Hedegar, with some reprimand in his voice. “I think I can speak for each one of us when I say of course we’d willingly exchange places with her. I may not have truly put my life on the line when I tackled that adder, but I like to think that I would have done the same regardless of the cost. But the fact is, it’s not about us. It’s not our lives we’d be sacrificing, but those of our children. And their children. We’d be passing up the opportunity to give them better lives. I know it’s not easy for you to understand; it’s not your world.”

David felt justly chastised by this comment and said nothing. They were right. This wasn’t his world. Who were he and Susan to interfere with their future? But he still refused to give in. As long as he held some hope they might be persuaded to save Susan, he would never give in.

“And so,” spoke up the Eagle at last. “It is truly an impasse. I commend you all for your faithfulness to both your own land and to Susan; and I appreciate the difficulty of your decision. It is time, therefore, that we introduce the third option.”

All the creatures starred at Inri. The third option?