She shrugged. “People talk about you, Sam of Wilds. Your name is known throughout Verania.”
“And what is said about me?”
“That everyone loves you. Most speak of you almost reverently, as if you are something to be cherished.”
I squinted at her. “You were going around asking people if they loved me? That’s weird. You’re weird.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t need to ask about love. It was clear in their adoration. You and that… that unicorn. Why you feel the need to associate with such a blasphemous creature, I’ll never understand.”
“Because he’s my best friend,” I said. “And he gets me. And he’ll kill or maim anyone who tries to hurt me. So. That’s why. Oh. And Tiggy too. Except he’s more into smashing things. Like faces.”
“I’m not threatened.”
“Oh. Wow. You should be, I think. At least a little bit. As a side note, the only reason you should feel threatened is if there is a reason to be threatened.”
I didn’t miss the way Ruv quirked a smile at that, like he found me funny but was trying not to show it. Hell, if that meant I had half the room on my side, I wasn’t going to argue with that. I winked at him obnoxiously. Stupid Ryan Foxheart. Of course I could handle myself.
Ruv winked back at me. Maybe licked his lips a little.
I probably couldn’t handle myself at all.
“Anyway,” I said quickly, trying to push through the discomfort. “I’m glad you like me. I think. That’ll make this… whatever this is, easier. I probably won’t send you an All Hallowed Day card or anything like that, but at least I can tell people I met my grandmother. Yaaaay.”
“You often talk without saying anything at all,” she said.
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That’s sort of my thing.”
“Does that get you anywhere?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I never knew the name of the man in shadows. Do you believe me?”
I cocked my head at her. “You like changing the subject whenever the mood strikes, don’t you? That’s annoying.”
She said nothing.
Okay, then. “Does it matter if I believe you or not?”
“There needs to be trust between us, Sam, if this is to work.”
I smiled at her. “Then the world is probably going to end. Such is life.”
She sighed. “You do not take this seriously.”
“It’s a defense mechanism. You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t, because we probably won’t be around long enough for that. Either I get the dragon and leave you behind, or we all die. Either way, it won’t be long.”
“I didn’t know it was the Myrin of old,” she said as if I hadn’t spoken at all, which, honestly, Mom must have told her was the easiest way to deal with me. Damn her. “Though I probably should have. Given the star dragon’s insistence that Morgan of Shadows be involved.”
“Man in shadows, Morgan of Shadows, yeah, I would think that would have crossed someone’s mind a time or two.” And from what Morgan had told me, he’d pushed it as far from his mind as he possibly could. “Would you have done anything differently?”
She hesitated, which was answer enough. “Do you know how old I am?” she asked instead.
“No.”
“I’m old, Sam. Much older than I appear. Not Randall’s age, no, not even Morgan’s, but enough to remember the stories. Why do you think it is that Myrin is mentioned only in passing? Why do you think it is that you can barely find his name mentioned at all?”
“Because Morgan—”