He rolled his eyes. “How did he mentor Randall? I thought the dragons could only speak when you were around?”
“Apparently some stupid mystical connection they had or something. I’m not too up on the details on that. It’s best to not try and focus on it too much. Makes less sense the more you think about it, so I just choose not to.”
“That’s pretty much the story of your life, isn’t it?”
“Was that a joke? Can I laugh, or are you still mad at me and we’re fighting and stuff?”
“And stuff,” he echoed. “Why would you—oh man. Does that mean you’re essentially Randall Part Two?”
I choked. “Oh my gods, you did not just say that. And you capitalized it. What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Now it’s true!” he yelped, eyes wide. “You’re Randall Part Two!”
“Nope. Nope, nope, nope. I am not Randall Part Two. In fact, you know what? I am changing my name now. I’m no longer Sam of Dragons. I’m Sam of… okay, I can’t think of anything particularly awe-inspiring right now because I’m so outraged, but I will. And mark my words, when I do, it’s going to blow everyone away, and they’ll all say, ‘Ooh, that’s so cool! Look, everyone, look how cool he is with his new name that has nothing to do with Randall.’”
“Sam of Dragons,” Ryan said, sounding awed.
“Why do you keep saying it like that!”
“I can’t believe you’re—”
“I will melt your face off, Foxheart, mark my words!”
“Ungh.”
I groaned. “Stop finding my threats against your being attractive. We’re arguing right now. You can’t just be Knight Delicious Face when we’re arguing, you ass—”
“Oh, please. I’m Knight Delicious Face no matter what I do. Most everyone loves it.”
“Riiiight. Because most everyone has totally seen the way you drool on your pillow and wake up with crusty cheeks. You unbelievable douche.”
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do. In fact, sometimes I call you Knight Crusty Cheeks. So ha. Take that to your Foxy Lady Brigade and shove it. Which, by the way, you can sure as shit bet we’re going to have a long talk about, especially given how you apparently trust Lady Tina, of all people. My sworn enemy is now your second? What the fuck is wrong with all of you?” I had a thought then. “Is she holding you all hostage? Is she listening in right now? Blink once for yes and twice for probably, and I’ll go outside and make her die horribly. Like, all that would be left would be a pile of blood and gristle. It would be awesome.”
He didn’t blink.
“Okay, I’m not quite sure what that meant. Tell you what, I’ll just assume you’re being held hostage. Let me go make her die and we can continue this conversation sometime next decade—”
“Do you still love me?”
Godsdamn him.
I closed my eyes and took in a shuddering breath. That was a question I hadn’t expected. Out of everything that could have happened, I thought if those words were spoken aloud, I would have been the one saying them. And definitely not in a small voice like I’d never heard from him before.
“You’re my cornerstone,” I said clumsily.
“That’s not what I asked.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him. Now that we were close, I could see the dark bags under his eyes, the worry etched across his brow like it’d been there a long time. He was thinner, as if the stress of the last year had weighed heavily upon him. I wondered at the scar that would be on his torso, how pronounced it would be. If I would ever get to trace it with my tongue, silently thanking the gods that he still drew breath. And there was the other scar, the one on his face, partially hidden by his thick beard.
I didn’t think I looked any better. I hadn’t yet found the strength to look in a mirror, but from what everyone else was saying, I probably didn’t look too great. When I slept in the Dark Woods, it was the sleep of the exhausted, from having been assaulted by magic day in and day out, the Great White forcing me into something I hadn’t
thought I was quite capable of. It worked—eventually—but it’d taken its toll on me. The voices of dragons and Morgan and Randall and Myrin had been whispering around me, telling me I needed to be stronger, better, that I was going to fail, that everyone I loved would die.
But one thing kept me coming back to myself. One person kept me pushing forward so that one day, I could stand before him again and tell him how sorry I was.
And how much I loved him.