I will do what I can, but he will be stronger than me. You must do what is right, Sam of Wilds. You must do what is necessary, even if your heart is breaking.
“Is it you?” I croaked out, taking a step forward. “Are you real?”
He chuckled as he took a step back from Ryan, dropping his hand. He turned toward me, reaching up to pull the hood back and—
Randall stood before me. His eyebrows were as wild as ever, looking like furry monstrosities hell-bent on consuming his forehead. His bulbous nose held memories of once being turned into a dick by a horny teenager with penis on the brain. The wrinkles on his face were more pronounced, and he looked like he was on the verge of complete exhaustion, but I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy to see him as I was right then.
Which explained why I took three steps forward and wrapped my arms around him without thinking much about it. He grunted in surprise as I held him as tightly as I could, my hands clasped behind his back, my forehead on his shoulder. I was breathing heavily, trying to keep myself together, but I was shaking and couldn’t stop.
For a moment he didn’t move, remaining stiff and unyielding. But then he sighed and did the most remarkable thing.
He hugged me back.
Out of all the hugs I’d received in my life, it was probably one of the worst. He was thin and bony, and he smelled like mothballs and cherry-flavored hard candies. I could tell he was uncomfortable and was probably humoring me, at least as much as someone like Randall could.
But it didn’t matter.
Because while it was one of the worst, it was also one of the best.
He was here.
He was alive.
Maybe a little worse for wear, but that didn’t matter. We were together again, and maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Randall said gruffly near my ear.
“Maybe,” I said with a sniffle. “But I notice you’re still not letting me go.”
“Someone once told me that everyone knows hugs should last at least a minute. It’s only been thirty seconds.”
“Smart, that.”
“I always thought it was ridiculous.”
“Uh-huh. And now?”
“Now? It’s not so bad.”
I hugged him just a little bit harder.
Eventually I pulled away but kept my hands clasped on his elbows.
His eyes were bright as he looked me up and down, then over my shoulder at Justin standing behind me. “Shaping magic?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Ain’t no thing.”
He scowled at me. “Frivolous. You know how I feel about it. It’s nothing more than street magic, a trick to appease the masses.”
Moment over. “It’s our disguise,” I retorted as I dropped his arms. “It was part of our rescue mission.”
“Really? Your rescue mission. To rescue whom, might I ask?”
“The King.”
Randall rolled his eyes. “So you bring the Prince into the castle that’s crawling with Darks? You truly are an idiot.”
“Hey! I tried to leave him behind, but he was all like, ‘Sam, it’s my father we’re rescuing, and I’m going, and if you say no, I’m going to make you poop in a bucket for the rest of your life, even though we’re best friends 5eva.’”