Page 31

Ashyr

R yder, have I been here before?

The question hung there in the air between them like frost. Ryder’s tongue clove to the top of his mouth. How to answer this?

He knew--from Balthazar--that the idea was to let Grayson figure out that he was Ashyr reborn on his own so it wouldn’t be too much of a shock.

But no one had discussed what they should do if Grayson flat out asked if he was Ashyr.

Yet didn’t asking the question presuppose he knew what the answer could be?

So it couldn’t shock him to answer the question, could it?

“Your silence tells me that you’re not surprised by me asking that question. Or… you’re so surprised that you don’t know what to say,” Grayson’s voice held amusement and a little worry.

Grayson tried to turn his head to look up at him, but it was impossible from the position he was in.

Ryder hugged him tighter. “What makes you ask that? That you’ve been here before? A sense of deja vu or something else?”

He hadn’t said he was Ashyr. He hadn’t asked that. Maybe he just felt the Ever Dark was familiar, the people were familiar, that… Hell, if Ryder didn’t answer straight it would be lying. But he found himself struggling to answer with anything that made sense at all.

“I don’t know. Everything,” Grayson said.

“What do you mean?”

Grayson let out a long breath. “I’ve felt right since the moment I came here.

I’ve never felt right before. Before, it was like I was wearing skin that was two sizes too big or one size too small.

The world wasn’t my world. I was just navigating through it and trying to hide.

But here... Here I fit . I don’t know why I have to think there’s something more to this feeling of belonging.

But there is. Or I think there is. Am I wrong? ”

Ryder closed his eyes. He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t asking: am I Ashyr either.

Grayson had changed in the short time he’d been in the Ever Dark.

He’d shed a lot of the fear and distrust that he had donned like a cloak for what Ryder guessed was a very large part of this life.

Even his confession about his stepfather had been like closing a book instead of opening an old wound.

He seemed to be paying homage to who he had been so that he could go forward as he truly was.

For Ashyr, Ryder imagined that his time as “Grayson” would be miniscule compared to the rest of his experiences.

And, no matter how traumatic things had been for him this life, an Immortal would view these things with a different, more distant eye.

Or maybe that’s what I hope for him, but it’s also what I fear for myself with Weryn.

“And I’ve had these dreams, visions, whatever…” Grayson broke off and shook his head.

“About?”

“One when Caemorn was near me at the parade. I was in a field and--what? What’s wrong?”

Ryder had tightened his hold on Grayson. “I don’t want you to tell me about that.”

The words seemed to come from a deep place inside of him. He imagined--or maybe it was real--that he saw that line of animals again and they were all staring back at him. Knowingly.

Grayson was quiet for long moments. Ryder wondered if he was going to ask why Ryder didn’t want to hear that dream or vision or whatever it was. But Weryn knew.

It’s where Ashyr died. In a field. In the long grass , Weryn whispered.

Realizing that he might have hurt Grayson by telling him he didn’t want to hear it, Ryder got out, “I’m sorry, Grayson, I do want to hear about everything, but--”

“No, no, you’re right. I shouldn’t say. Not if…” Grayson fell quiet again.

Not if I’m Ashyr? Is that what you’re going to say, Grayson?

“I’m concerned about you ,” Ryder told him. “Not me. Tell me…”

Tell me how you died, he almost said, but stopped himself and swallowed.

Grayson hadn’t sounded afraid or anguished by what he’d seen. But if he thought it was just a dream then maybe he didn’t realize what he had experienced.

“I had another one. A better one. It happened when you drank my blood,” Grayson continued, “I thought… Oh God, this sounds crazy. I don’t know what I was asking. Just forget about it.”

Grayson shook his head and lifted one hand to his forehead as if he had a headache. Ryder grimaced. Grayson wouldn’t let himself know who he truly was if Ryder was playing coy like this. He had to be honest, but somehow not lead.

“No, Grayson, you’re not crazy. But I want to understand what you are asking. Explain to me what you’re thinking,” Ryder said quietly.

He wasn’t sure if he was stalling or if he was simply clarifying where Grayson’s head was at. He supposed Grayson could be thinking something else other than that he was Ashyr reborn and Ryder could give him the shock of his life by confirming something he wasn’t even asking.

“I could list off a million little things and big things, too, that I’m experiencing that no other student is,” Grayson continued carefully.

“That’s for sure,” Ryder agreed with a chuckle. “It hasn’t been exactly easy since you got here.”

“No, but I’m not stressed about it. And that’s sort of surprising, right?”

“More than. But it’s a trait of your character. Calm and cool when things are desperate and frightening,” Ryder said.

That’s how he was as Ashyr. That’s how he is now, Weyrn whispered.

“I wouldn’t have said that about myself before today. Not exactly. But since I’ve gotten here, like I said, everything’s different. I feel different.”

“You seem that way to me too. Surer of yourself. At peace in some way,” Ryder agreed.”

“Yeah. And then, I think that if I were just some guy off the street that landed in the middle of a conspiracy, I don’t think every single Immortal would be coming up to me and being my friend,” Grayson said carefully.

“Or that King Daemon would be so kind and take such an interest in me. Or that you… you would need me in that Ring and no one else. It’s not random.

It can’t be random. But maybe I’m wrong about that.

Maybe I’m just seeing things that aren’t there--”

“No, you’re right, it’s not random. It’s meant,” Ryder agreed. “Though sometimes we meet people who feel like they’ve always been by our side.”

Ashyr… Ashyr… Ashyr…

He considered reaching out to Balthazar telepathically to ask for guidance at this moment. But he was Weryn and Grayson was Ashyr. Who better to help Grayson accept this impossible thing about himself?

But I’m so far from accepting myself that Balthazar had to do something to me to stop me from killing everyone! Ryder reminded himself. What can I possibly offer to Grayson?

“And it’s not just that. My… gift. It’s the same as the Ashyr Vampires and they’re following after me on rooftops.

I told myself that it was just because I was like them, not because I was.

.. But then there’s Dani who… God, I feel like I know her!

I trusted her the moment I saw her,” Grayson’s voice filled with warmth as he spoke of Ashyr’s fledgling.

Then with certainty, he stated, “I do know her. And not just from today.”

“Yes,” Ryder answered.

As simple as that. Would Grayson follow the line of reasoning to its natural conclusion? Would he accept that this life was not his only life? Would he believe he was an Immortal reborn?

“This can’t all be mine,” Grayson whispered as he drew his fingers over the backs of Ryder’s hands. “I don’t deserve this. I’m not… Life doesn’t work out this way for me.”

“It should have,” Ryder protested. “It should have all along. But maybe it was the only way to get you here.”

Is that it? That Grayson had to go through turmoil and trouble to end up here? Seeyr was just released a few months ago. She would be the only one who could find Ashyr, except for Daemon, and he just came back, too.

“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Grayson threaded their fingers together. “That’s why I’m asking you this. Why I’m pushing things instead of accepting the here and now. I want to be let down. I want to know if it's just an illusion. So I can mourn it and not… not want more.”

Ryder closed his eyes again. Grayson was ignoring the evidence of what he was because he feared that he wasn’t worthy of having Ashyr’s life, Ashyr’s friends, Ashyr’s lover. That was the only crazy part.

“I’m totally drawing conclusions here that aren’t true.

I just want it to be true to explain all of this.

To make it last . That’s all,” Grayson admitted with a rather choked laugh.

“After all, you’re waiting for him to come back.

He’s the love of your life. I’m just… Well, we talked about it this morning.

What’s going on between us? Casual and stuff.

Is it called morning here when it’s always night? I mean--”

“Ask me the real question,” Ryder said firmly.

Grayson was stiff as a board in his arms. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Ask me, Ashyr,” Ryder said.

And this time being called “Ashyr” clicked as it had not when Elgar had said it so innocently. Grayson was pushing himself up and out of Ryder’s arms so that he could turn around and look at his face. The firelight spun gold in his copper-colored hair as he stared at Ryder.

“So I’m not just imagining things?” Grayson asked.

Ryder cupped his cheek. “No, my love, you are not.”

Grayson’s gaze slid to the fireplace and the dancing flames within it. His expression was unreadable. Was he in shock? Was he going to deny it all? Was he going to scream, cry, or demand it not be true? He hated Vampires after all. Or thought he did.

“When I met Seeyr, she and I talked about a lot of stuff,” Grayson murmured. “And when I told her that my goal was to find out who was in the Sect of Dawn and get revenge for Sam, she told me that I wasn’t here for that.”

His eyes slid back to Ryder’s. Still his expression was unreadable.

“You are here, because you are Ashyr reborn, and this is home. We’re home, Ashyr.”