“He’s been coddled far too much,” Randall said.
“I noticed. Rather soft, isn’t he.”
“Like dough.”
“Well,” I said, clapping my hands. “As fun as this is—and really, I just love how the two of you have seemingly already forgotten a centuries-long feud so that you could pile on me, so wonderful, thank you—I think we should move on and do what Justin said. Focus on the big picture and kick some ass and—okay, I really don’t remember what Justin said because I was distracted by how kingly he was being.”
“O, ancient one,” Dimitri said, flying up in front of GW’s face. “Forgive us for this mockery. These humans know not who they speak to. You are the light of the world, the reason for which we all draw breath. Why, your very heartbeats are the pulse of the earth beneath our feet, your breath the wind through the trees, the—”
“Dimitri.”
“Yes, ancient one.”
“Stop it.”
“Yes, ancient one.”
GW turned back to Randall. “Why now?”
Randall arched a tremendous eyebrow at him. “Because we’re running out of time. We have rescued our King. Myrin has seen Sam with his own eyes. It will not be long before he descends.”
“Can he be saved?”
Randall appeared startled at the question. “What?”
“Myrin. Can he be brought back from the shadows?”
Randall stared up at him. “Even if there was a way, why would you care?”
“You think me coldhearted.”
“I think you obstinate. And unsympathetic. Incapable of seeing anything outside of the ways you view
the world.”
“But?”
Randall’s shoulders sagged. “I never thought you cold. You cared about me. In your own way.”
“You loved him.”
“I did.”
“He was your cornerstone.”
“He was.”
“And he turned from you.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you survived. Even after the King of Sorrows. Even after your… experience in Castle Freesias. Somehow, you survived. Tell me, Randall. How is it possible?”
“You knew? About—”
“You were my apprentice. Of course I knew. How did you do it? How did you find your way into the light?”
“Morgan.”