“You are the foolish one.” Fiona shook her head. “You are doing yourself no favors, Weryn, by not recognizing the love of your existence. After this night, Grayson willdoubtyou.”
Weryn flinched. “He–he cannot be Ashyr…”
Grayson’s voice was wretched as he said, “I would show you my powers, but I–I–”
“Grayson, don’t!” Christian curled a protective arm around Grayson’s shaking shoulders. “You can’t use them right now. You’re on edge as it is. Do you want to die?”
“I’m not going to die, Christian.” Grayson laughed rather wildly as if the idea were both mad and yet he could believe it all at once.
“You don’t look well, Grayson,” Fiona repeated her earlier assessment gently.
“But he doesn’t believe me!” Another laugh-cry. “He doesn’t… And he has no memories of the present and all those against us… ” Those eyes were sharp again. “You’re a danger to yourself and others, Weryn. You cannot go off on your own. You’ve no idea about the world you would be entering.”
“I know who my enemies are: Kaly and Legion,” Weryn said then added, “and anyone who gets in my way.”
“No, not Kaly. Roan Tithe. Kaly is your friend. He is a good friend to all of us,” Grayson said.
Weryn let out a laugh. “Now you are the one who doesn’t know who is against us. I will take my leave now. Consider yourself lucky that I have not yet punished you for your transgressions–”
“Stop!” Grayson’s fingers flexed by his temples. “Stop, Weryn. Just stop. I must show him. I–”
“No, Grayson! Don’t use your gift,” Fiona was firm.
“Daemon himself told Balthazar not to take away your pain, because he feared you would keep pushing yourself, Grayson,” Christian said.
“Daemon?” Weryn growled. “You would say my king’s name in vain–”
“Ah, no, we say his name because it's his name,” Fiona gritted out. “And he’s not justyourking, he’sourking.”
“He is human! Is Daemon his king, too?”
“He is the king of humans, too. Or he seeks to be. They just don’t know it yet. Or maybe they do, but everyone is pretending not to know,” Grayson said, weariness etching every word.
“Daemon is… is awake?” Weryn’s head snapped towards the royal palace.
I have betrayed you, my king. I have done unspeakable acts. I… I cannot…
“Don’t you feel him?” Fiona asked. “He’s communing right now. But he’s here. Awake and aware and with his beloved fledgling.”
Weryn’s nostrils flared. He remembered wanting to go to Daemon’s tomb, to wake his king, and ask him to make everything right again that had gone so wrong. He had wildly believed that it could be fixed. And now, he could feel his king. His king was everywhere. Awake. Aware.
He will know everything. All the deaths. All the War Children. All I have done. All I failed to do. No…
“Daemon is here,” he whispered.
“Yes, he’s here, Weryn. And I’m sure he’ll come speak to you soon,” Grayson said with a wave of his hand as if that was no big deal.
But that sounded like athreat. He was moving towards the door. He had to get away. If Daemon was communing then he had time. He needed time to think. No, he needed time to do one good thing before Daemon caught up with him. If he caught Legion and Roan Tithe–the true enemies–maybe his king would forgive him.
“Weryn, where are you going?” Fiona stepped into his path and crossed her arms over her chest. “You are not leaving here unless it's to go see Caemorn or Balthazar.”
“I–”
“He’s panicking,” Christian suddenly said.
“Get out of my head, Eyros!” Weryn yelled.
Christian studied him with an almost cold indifference. “You cannot outrun your past, Weryn.”
