-Exactly A Week Later-

Jaron's POV

Tobias and I stood outside the door to Roden's room. I took a nervous breath. From what I'd heard, so much as speaking to him was becoming more and more like talking to a dragon while stealing its gold. Nearly impossible without it losing its patience and eating you. Except Roden didn't have sharp, massive teeth. He had sharp, even scarier weapons. And he knew how to use them. I'd let him take a break from the work that went along with the ever-tedious work that came with being captain, and that may have been a mistake. He hasn't left his room since and probably would have starved if it weren't for those respectfully brave servants to leave a tray of food on the table and rush out without saying a word.e

Imogen was the first to try to talk to him, and told us it would be best if we let him be for a while. Fink said that surely he would open up to him, but returned insisting Roden had gone mad. Harlowe said it was nonsense, but when Roden's father attempted, it seemed it was even worse than the last few people. Roden made us swear in a message sent through a servant to never let Harlowe try to talk to him again about "the thing". No questions were asked. Now finally, I decided to try myself, and Tobias volunteered to come with me.

I pressed my ear against the door of the bedroom, hoping to hear something to give me an idea of what to expect. I heard a quiet mumbling, no, muttering, and strained to hear what it may be.

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

Three sounds made me wince. Whatever was going on in there, it didn't make me feel any better about going to talk to him. It sounded familiar. I finally recognized the sound from when Asher practiced with her knives outside, the sound of the small blades sinking into the painted cork target. I heard more knives fly, and didn't knock until I was certain he had finished, for fear that I may be the new target. I lightly but firmly bunged my knuckles against the wood door. There was silence for a moment as the muttering stopped. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. I heard a loud sigh.

"Come in if you must," Roden said from inside. I glanced at Tobias for support, but his face was nervous and unreadable. I turned the handle and opened the door wide. Roden's back was facing us. In is hand he clutched a throwing knife. On the wall he was facing was a cork target, painted hastily and not very skillfully, like the hood of a black cloak, one I recognized with a sinking feeling. There were at least five knives embedded in it, one right in the middle. It did not help my confidence.

"What do you want?" he asked grudgingly. I took a deep breath. I was not going to be stripped of my confidence just because he was angry. And had knives. And might be out of his mind.

"We only wanted to talk." Silence. I continued. "You don't want to talk to anyone else. Not even you own father. We're worried about you. All of us. But we can't help you if you don't let us. Look, we understand your pain. I understand it. I almost lost Imogen myself, and I don't blame you for feeling kind of… defeated. I can only imagine what it would be like if Imogen had died on our wedding day-"

"She isn't dead," he muttered.

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"I said," he raised his voice, turning to face us, teeth clenched. "Asher is not dead!" He threw the knife on the floor in frustration, and the metal collided with the stone floor with a clatter. Tobias winced, but remained silent. I wasn't sure I understood.

"Roden… I'm sorry, but, Asher's dead as a rock. They even found a body."

"They weren't sure about the body. It was all burned up."

"Nobody could have escaped that fire."

"She promised me! I know she isn't dead."

"Is that what this is about? She promised you she wouldn't die?"

"You sound like my father!"

"You can't continue like this!"

"Don't take away my hope!" there was silence. I hadn't realized how loud our argument had gotten until the piercing silence emerged from it so suddenly. In a much quieter voice, he added, "it's all I have left."