The Disjointed Tales Of Renryre Island

22-2: Promises Made [continued]

"You want me to choose between my life and hers?"

"The rules of this game are far more complicated," sneered Iryssah. "You will need to win the game in order to make that decision. If you lose, I will decide who lives and who dies."

Irikhart heard a faint whimper from Ryleine. She had barely the strength to move, but that short moment when she managed to lift her eyelids enough to see him sent a pang of guilt through him. Ryleine was there because of him. This was happening to her because he'd brought her to Dead Girl's Crater.

He needed time. He needed to understand what was happening. He was, after all, the hero, not the villain. He should emerge victorious. Besides, he was a god, could she even kill him? Maybe not, but she could kill Ryleine.

"Very well," agreed Irikhart. "I will play your game, seeing as I have no other choice. But first, we will play my game. You like games, don't you?"

Iryssah froze, cocked her head. Irikhart had caught her off guard. If only he had thought of a game to play before he suggested it. He hardly expected the girl to be fooled by him valiantly making a dash for it during a game of hide and seek.

"I do like games. But I don't think you can beat me. I'm really good at all games."

Irikhart searched the recesses of his mind for any games he could remember. He had, after all, been wandering the skies for a million years, watching as people lived their lives below – and played games.

"There are no winners or losers in my game," said the god. "The rules are simple. You ask me a question, and I will answer three times; once with the truth, and twice with a lie. If you guess which one is the truth, I must confirm your guess, and you ask another question. If you choose the wrong answer, I do not tell you which of the remaining two is the truth, and which is the lie. And then it's my turn to ask."

"If I don't guess the right one, I will never know which answer really was the truth?"

"Sounds fun, doesn't it?"

The dead girl considered for some time, nodding with reluctant curiosity.

"Alright. When you descended from the sky, it was for this girl. How many girls did you love before Ryleine?"

Irikhart considered for a moment. It wasn't the best question, but it bought him time to think.

"I have never loved another woman. There was one woman I loved dearly, but she died before I built up the courage to descend. There were a thousand women or more, one for every generation I watched."

Iryssah watched him for some time, reluctant to tell him her guess.

"Who was she?" she probed. "The one woman?"

Irikhart shook his head and grinned eagerly, excited that his plan was working.

"I'm afraid that's incorrect, Iryssah. My turn."

He paced from side to side as he considered his question, the dead girl watching him impatiently.

"What does your name mean, Iryssah?"

A moment's silence was followed by the dead girl's hesitant answers.

"The name has no meaning at all. It was Mother's name, given to me as she died in childbirth. In the forgotten tongue of the gods, it translates to alive in the flesh."

"The forgotten tongue?" sneered Irikhart. "How can it be forgotten if... never mind. It must be... no. Alive in the flesh is the true answer."

Iryssah glared at him, a hint of anger flashing across her otherwise placid expression. The god of the fools wondered just how old she was, or how she had been named in a forgotten language.