“Uh. I’m. Not? I don’t even know where he is. And it’s not like I’d go looking for him. I don’t even have a plan yet. I don’t go into things without having a—okay, I totally do, but I’m not going to do that here.”
“What are you going to do?” Morgan asked, sounding alarmed for the first time since Randall had dragged me into the labs.
“I am going to find the Great White and give him a piece of my mind,” Randall snapped. “It’s high time he and I have a conversation.”
I frowned. “But you can’t actually talk to him like I can—right, right, now is not the time to bring that up, you can stop staring at me like that.”
“A cornerstone is everything, Sam of Wilds,” Randall said. “Above all else, you must remember that. Without it, you could fall into darkness.”
“But you and Morgan didn’t,” I said without meaning to.
“What was that?” Randall asked, taking a step toward me.
“Uh. Never mind.”
“Sam,” Morgan said. “Did… did the Great White tell you more than what you’ve already said?”
Have you ever been standing in a lab wearing only pink underwear and socks with bunnies on them while two of the most powerful wizards in all the world stared at you?
Me too.
“Shit,” I squeaked. “Look at the time. I think I’ll just head on back to bed—”
Morgan waved his hand, the door slamming shut before I could get through.
“Sweet molasses,” I sighed.
“Speak,” Randall said.
“I’m not a dog.”
“Sam.”
“Gods, you guys suck. Fine. He said—he said that cornerstones were a lie, that their importance was exaggerated, and that you two survived the loss of yours and didn’t become Dark, so why would I? I mean, there’s no way in hell that I’m going to give up Ryan. Ever. But… he had a point, right? I mean, Morgan, I get why you didn’t. From what you’ve told me, you lived a long and happy life with yours. But… Randall. You… spent so long constructing your magic only to have Myrin—” I shook my head. “I just don’t understand how you didn’t turn Dark.”
“I did.”
I took a step back. “What?”
Morgan sighed and looked away.
Randall bowed his head, shoulders drooping, hair hanging around his face. His liver-spotted hands curled into gnarled fists. He looked ancient. “After Myrin was—after he made the decisions that he did, I was… adrift. There were forces at work upon me that I couldn’t control.” He smiled ruefully, a sharp and brittle thing. “And then I took it upon myself to bring the King of Sorrows back from his madness and… well. It— I shouldn’t have.”
“At least not on your own,” Morgan said sharply.
“Yes. At least not on my own. But I was angry. So very angry, and I thought that I could control it. I was wrong.” He shook his head. “I felt the darkness within me, and I knew that I was on a dangerous path. It took years, and I did my best to mentor Morgan. He succeeded in passing the Trials, though it was more his doing than anything I did. Even still, it became too much, and I banished myself to the North and Castle Freesias to regain control. Those were dark days in which I was convinced I could do the most terrible things with the greatest of ease.”
“Pat and Leslie,” I said slowly. “The mated dragons. They said they were glad to see you healthy and whole.”
“I thought you’d forgotten that,” Randall said. “But yes. They saw me at my worst. And given my bond with the Great White—or at least what remained of the bond—they took it upon themselves to assist my healing. I dreamed for years, Sam. When you have lived as long as I have, a decade can be an hour, and I walked amongst my ghosts. My demons. The anger in all my failings. Morgan did not follow me into the darkness after the passing of his cornerstone, because he was prepared for her to pass beyond the veil. I was not prepared for Myrin’s betrayal. The Great White is a
solitary creature who does not understand the necessity that is a cornerstone.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you?” I asked. “The both of you. Because of what Vadoma showed me. With Ryan.”
“We’re always worried about you,” Morgan said. “It’s because we love you.”
“Let’s not go that far,” Randall mumbled.