He's about to answer her, prepared to ask about what she's said -- giving thanks to the dark -- when there's the pressure of fingers on his arm and he yanks it back, that same unfamiliar darkness rising in him. His eyes go black, but before he can do anything, before he can gather that strength and fling it toward the creature as he'd done with Mark and with Eli, Nerium sends it back with a curse and it's gone.

It's not the grindylow that's the cause of his racing heart, but his own reaction. Something has felt strange lately, something inside him has been stronger and he doesn't like it very much. He blinks and his eyes return to normal, but he's embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Sorry," he says, although he doesn't know why he's apologizing. "How do you know he doesn't like the name?" It's such a stupid question, but he doesn't know what else to say.