I nodded, not entirely focused on what he was saying - still distracted by Memenion’s comments.
“Did you see Benedict?” Ash asked, changing the subject.
“Better than that.” I managed a lopsided grin. “He’s in the castle—and, as far as we can make out, free from the entity too.”
Now it was my turn to share news. I told him about the trip to the Viking graveyard, and what had happened with Benedict. I also told him about the contents of Varga’s letter—and at that, Ash’s face became drawn and tight.
“I knew Lithan was up to no good!” he exploded. “I want him out of this kingdom tonight. Tejus chose to keep his enemies close, but I won’t make the same mistake.”
“I understand,” I replied calmly, “but I’ve been giving it some thought. We know next to nothing about the Acolytes—who they are, what their part has been in the rise of the entity, if any. I thought that maybe keeping Lithan around might provide some of those answers…If they don’t know we’re on to them, then we’ve got a better chance of learning more. If we show our hand, then we’re kind of screwed.”
Ash thought about my proposal for a few moments, and then sighed in frustration.
“I don’t know, Ruby; it feels like a risky move. If the entity is free, then we need to keep the castle as secure as we can.”
I disagreed—I didn’t think the castle would ever be truly safe, not against the entity. Knowledge would be more powerful to us right now, but I chose not to say anything. There was something else about Ash tonight that was making me feel a bit on edge. It wasn’t just that he was grumpy, but more that our conversation felt like it was happening between two strangers.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it all eventually,” I replied, trying to reassure him.
Ash nodded. “And I suppose we’ll have Varga to thank for that.”
Whoa.
“What does that mean?” I retorted.
“Nothing. I just meant the letter was helpful, that’s all. Good job he had the foresight to write it to you,” Ash grumbled.
Is this about jealousy?
“Only so that I’d make Tejus read it!” I exclaimed.
“I know that,” he replied shortly. “Like I said—it’s a good thing.”
“Okay,” I replied, mildly insulted that he thought I was so stupid that I couldn’t see the obvious issue he had with Varga writing me a letter.
“I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day,” he announced. “Here, Jenney,” he added, rolling the scepter down the length of the table, “you can use this to stir a stew or something.”
With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the kitchen door shut behind him. I sank back into the chair, the wind knocked out of me.
“He’s impossible!” I groaned at Jenney. “The letter didn’t mean a thing! I don’t understand why he got so worked up about it.”
“I don’t think it’s about the letter,” Jenney replied softly, looking down at the floor and not quite meeting my eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…I think Ash might have some other worries. And maybe Varga is the catalyst, but really I think he’s fretting about the Hazel and Tejus sentry transformation thing—it must have crossed your mind?” she asked.
“Of course it’s crossed my mind! And I’m worried too…but I don’t think pushing each other away is going to help matters,” I replied sullenly.
“I guess he’s just confused. Ash likes being in control. I’m guessing he feels pretty helpless right now, and that’s not going to help his mood.”
I tried to empathize with Ash’s behavior, but I was struggling. We were both going through the same stuff, and though he had the added pressure of the trials, I still didn’t think that gave him the right to shut me out – that wasn’t going to help either of us.
“I’m going to have it out with him,” I announced. In that moment, I really felt like my mother’s daughter, too fiery for my own good, too impulsive. But I didn’t care.
“That’s a bad idea—”
“I don’t care. I’m going anyway. I’ll see you later.”
I followed Ash in storming out of the kitchen. Buoyed up with anger, I marched along the servants’ quarters, belatedly realizing that I didn’t know where Ash would be sleeping now. I was about to meekly return to ask Jenney when I saw light coming from beneath the door of his old bedroom.
I knocked.
“Come in,” he called.
I opened the door and stood at the entrance, glaring at him with my hands on my hips.