“HOW,” I gasped, lungs burning, “in the name of all that’s holy, are you human?”
We were on a path cut into the side of the mountain, steep and dusted with snow. It’d been a sharp incline for a while now, and my legs felt like they were ready to fall off.
Randall, of course, looked as if he wasn’t affected in the slightest.
I despised every single part of his being.
The sky was beginning to lighten, and flurries were swirling around us. We’d been at it for a good few hours, and Castle Freesias had long since passed from view. I expected to have Randall lead at a slow pace where I’d need to refrain from trying to pass him every few seconds.
That, unfortunately, didn’t happen.
I probably should have realized I was in trouble when he’d come back down the stairs with a walking stick.
Who the fuck had a walking stick and actually used it?
Randall did.
I’d scoffed at him while inwardly wondering if I was doomed.
“Maybe we should take a break,” I said. “Have some jerky or something. While sitting down. And not moving.”
“We still have a ways to go,” Randall said. “It’s best to keep going for now so we don’t get stuck in an open place like this should there be a storm.”
“What’s ‘a ways’?”
“Oh,” he said cheerfully, “hours.”
“I like my idea so much better,” I muttered.
“Of course you would. Most narcissists do.”
“You know what? I don’t even care that you just insulted me. My thighs are quivering, and I am coming to the realization that climbing mountains is the absolute worst.”
“What is it with you and thighs?”
“Gross. Stop talking dirty to me. You know I don’t like you like that.”
Yeah, I deserved it when he smacked me on the top of the head with his walking stick.
IT WAS late morning when we stopped for the second time in an alcove of sorts. A rocky shelf stuck out of the side of the mountain over us, and while it wasn’t warm, it was a respite from the wind.
I collapsed face-first in the snow, my pack digging into my back. “Just leave me here,” I said, voice muffled. “This is a good place for me to die. I don’t even care. Those mountain climbers can find me instead and wonder what religious purposes my booty served.”
“I would have no problem with that,” he said, taking a seat on a boulder near the back of the alcove. “But I am sure someone would say something. The people who care for you tend to be a bit….”
“Protective?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.
“I was going to say loud.”
“Ah. That works too.”
“It often does with you.”
“I’m so tired, I can’t even think of a devastating retort.”
“Oh, blessed be. Maybe stop talking for a little while, then. Rest your mouth and my ears.”
I did. For a good three minutes. “So.”
He sighed the most put-upon sigh I’d ever heard.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t been expecting that, if the look he gave me meant anything. “For?”
I pushed myself up until I could move next to the boulder where he sat. I leaned against the back wall, setting my pack on the ground beside me. I brought my knees up to my chest. “For what I said. You know. Before.”
“You said many things that you should apologize for. Be specific.”
I bit my tongue against the sass that threatened to spill. Once I was sure it had passed, I said, “I’m talking about how I upset you when I asked why you didn’t have a wizarding name like everyone else.”
He stiffened but made no move to throw me off the side of the mountain, so that was a start. We sat in an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on for days. Just when I was about to literally say anything (and probably make things that much worse), Randall surprised me by speaking first.
“I don’t like to think about it.”
“Oh. That’s… fair?”
He scoffed. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure what else to say.”
“And you’re not going to push?”
“Nah. That’s not my thing. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. You’re allowed to keep things to yourself. If they don’t involve me, that is. Because any shit that involves me, I demand you tell me right away. No more secrets. Secrets suck. Ryan’s already going to be so pissed at me when I tell him everything.” Which was not something I was looking forward to.
“He doesn’t know about—”
I shook my head. “Everything I wrote and showed you in my Grimoire? Yeah. You’re kind of the only one, dude. So. Yay you, or whatever.”
“Don’t call me dude,” he said, but it lacked its usual heat. Which was good, because I really did prefer the whole wear-you-down method when it came to things. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
I shrugged. “Because I thought I could save him.”
“You’re a moron.”
“Probably.”
He sighed. “But so am I.”
“You won’t hear me arguing.”
“I….” He looked out to the falling snow. Then, “I wanted to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Magic. Everything. After… after him, I wanted nothing more than to collapse in on myself like a star.”
I couldn’t find a single word to say.
He chuckled ruefully. “At the very least, I wanted to hide myself away from everything. To mourn in isolation. Magic had—I’ve always loved it. Magic. Ever since I was a boy. I was always enchanted by it. That I could do things that others could not. That I could help others in ways they didn’t expect. That I could bend the natural boundaries of the world at my whim. It was… intoxicating.
“Then he—Myrin. He only added to it. I never thought my cornerstone would be another wizard. I’d never heard of such a thing. My mentor warned me against it, telling me that cornerstones were a folly of man. And for a long time, I believed him. I didn’t—I didn’t have a cornerstone. Not even when I passed the Trials. I did it on my own. He didn’t come until after. I was… enchanted. By him. I don’t know that I could have stopped it had I tried.”
The wind howled.
“I don’t know if it was me,” he continued. “I don’t know if it was just him. Or a combination of the two. Or some other reason entirely. I don’t know why he—he did what he did. Why he chose the path to darkness. But he did, and you know what happened after that. Eventually, he was overcome. Eventually, he was locked away. Locked away in hopes that one day he could be purified again. Be the man Morgan and I had loved. But I… I didn’t want it anymore. The magic. I blamed it. For everything that had happened. I pulled the King of Sorrow back from the grip of madness, and I wanted that to be it. I was suffering. I was hurting. I wanted to be selfish. Do you know what stopped me?”