“Grandsire has a skull box that is quite attractive for it,” Elgar explained.
“A skull box?” Another eyebrow lift. “Well, if anyone is going to have a skull box it would be Kaly.”
Upon hearing Kaly’s name, Weryn swung around. “Kaly ishere? In Nightvallen?”
Demos blinked. His mouth opened but nothing came out.
Elgar saved him by saying, “Yes, Weryn. You spoke to him yourself earlier this evening.”
“I did no such thing!” Weryn cried.
“Caemorn. He’s called Caemorn now,” Sana explained.
“Caemorn. Yes, I met him and the other Eyros Vampire. They were…” Here words seemed to fail Weryn. “They cannot be who they said they were. Eyros and Kalyhateone another. Those two…”
“Caemorn is Balthazar’s Master for all intents and purposes,” Demos shrugged. “They’re way close. Have each other’s backs and everything. They’ve put the school together and are leading it jointly.”
“That just shows they cannot be Eyros and Kaly!” Weryn shook his head. “Those two couldn’t bear to be in the same room together let alone work together and–and be as they are.”
“Things have changed,” Elgar said softly.
“Not that much!”
Weryn turned back on his heel and stormed into the palace. The three of them hustled to keep after him as he led them down the hallway. Other Weryn were immediately looking out of rooms on either side of the hallway. Demos made movements for them to stay where they were and not speak to Weryn. For his part, Weryn seemed to be studiously ignoring them. There would be too many new faces with Weryn blood for him to cling to the fragile belief that things had changed. It was only when Siban clattered down the stairs and bounded up to Weryn that the powerful Vampire was rocked back on his heels.
“Ryder! I am so glad you are here. The…” Siban stopped mid-sentence. The open smile on her face died. “Weryn.”
They breathed the name. Their eyes skittered to Demos.
“Siban,” Weryn whispered. He recognized them. They were a War Childe. “You… you’re here?”
“Yes, yes,” they repeated. “I… survived the War.”
“The War is not over!” Weryn snapped.
Siban blinked. Knowing how afraid they were, Elgar was made nearly breathless by the bravery it took to place a gentle hand on his chest.
“Itis, Weryn,” Siban said.
He stared down at that hand. There was a moment where he wanted to take it in his and hold it close to his heart. But he jerked away.
“No! Legion and Roan are still out there!” Weryn cried.
“Yes, yes, they are,” Siban nodded. “You are right about that. Are you seeking them out now?”
“I–I–am.”
“I shall go with you then,” Siban answered quietly.
“N-no,” Weryn whispered. His eyes were haunted. He nearly touched Siban’s cheek, but snatched his hand away.
“Why not, Master? I was made for the War. You are right that not all our enemies were slain, I will come with you and help finish it,” Siban said with quiet conviction.
“Legion…” Weryn said the name like he was ripping his flesh open. “Legion betrayed us.”
Siban nodded. “They did.”
And then in a voice almost too soft to be heard, Weryn asked, “Is it my fault?”
