We managed to save our friends and Avalon from more death and destruction. The earth had probably swallowed the blades as well, when the tree came to take the druid to pay for his crimes. I don’t share my thoughts aloud with Arthur, partly because the Merlin’s name is one I’d like to forget, and because I can’t shake the feeling that we might have some unfinished business.
“Damn. Did you just see that? That had to be the biggest blue jay I’ve ever seen.”
Arthur’s voice draws my attention away from the trees. “Huh?”
“That bird. It’s gone now, but that wingspan. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. Are you okay?”
I don’t respond to his question, and instead close my eyes, letting my mind drift for a minute, absorbing the knowledge of Emrys’ defeat and reflecting upon everything we had to endure in order to secure it.
Mictēcacihuātl, how can I ever repay you for what you’ve done? For how much you’ve helped? Thank you, Holy Mother, Queen of the Underworld. I will never forget this as long as I live.
“Oh my God, Arthur.” I open my eyes when I feel his hand on my back. “It’s done. It’s over. We really did it.”
He helps me up from the ground, placing my arm around his neck, and we make our way toward the front of the house, where Gwen, Mordy and Morgan are.
“We really did,” he says, and kisses the side of my head with so much force that we both nearly fall over. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
A New Beginning
Lexington, KY
Have I ever mentioned that I’m terrible at goodbyes? Because I am. I suck at them. Big surprise, right? Maybe it’s because I cry every time, or maybe it’s because I can’t deal with the idea of being separated from the people I love and cherish the most. Whatever the reason, they’re always the hardest for me. Each desertion fills my heart with holes, and they’re left empty until we meet again.
This morning I received a text from Mordy telling me that he’ll be back for Christmas, and that he fully expects me to be here as well, that he’ll drive to Lexington to kidnap me if I don’t keep my promise to come back.
Mordy. Saying goodbye to Mordy had been harder than I’d anticipated. Nothing could have prepared me for the pain that would come after our last meeting.
He and Morgan had begun their drive back to California yesterday morning. All five of us had planned to have breakfast before they left, but Mordy had canceled an hour before we were supposed to meet, saying that if they attended they wouldn’t have enough time in the morning to prepare for their departure, and that any delays might negatively impact the strict schedule he’d devised.
But I know the real reason for his desertion, because I’d nearly backed out three times last night.
It had been a lie, of course—he just hadn’t wanted to say goodbye in person.
I hope he knows just how much I love him, how much I need him in my life.
After an early lunch with my parents and Gwen, Arthur and I head back to Lexington in his truck. Gwen had kept making jokes about his truck breaking down all during the meal, and I could tell that we’d needed to get out of there before he lost his mind on her. Ever since my near-death experience, Arthur has been somewhat touchy.
I get it, though—his boyfriend almost died, and what little time he had left with him was divided among his other loved ones. I’d be pissed, too, if I were in his shoes. None of this has been fair—to any of us.
Once we’re well on our way, Arthur relaxes a little and turns on the radio, singing along to the terrible nineties country blaring from the station, and I roll down the window.
The sky is blue and expansive, and it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time ever. Something about dying and being brought back to life has made certain aspects of living rawer, more vibrant. I try to soak in the sunshine and dry air.
For the first twenty or so miles we don’t talk, instead absorbing the finality of everything, the possibility of things to come, the future that we’d fought so hard to secure.
“Gwen told me Morgan asked her to come visit,” I say. “Said she could stay with her and Mordy’s mom. Can you even imagine Gwen in a big city like that?”
Arthur chuckles. “Are you kidding me? Of course she did. I’ve never seen two people so attracted to one another and fight it like they do. Or at least how intensely Gwen resists it.”
“God, she does, doesn’t she?” I shake my head and start to peel the orange resting in my lap. “Morgan doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”
“Hey. Can you do me a favor?” Arthur asks. He removes a hand from the steering wheel and gestures toward the glove box. “There are some letters in there. Can you get them for me?”
I lick juice from my fingers and arch my eyebrow at him. “You just had to wait until my hands were covered in juice, didn’t you? Hang on a sec.”
I wipe my fingers on my shirt, the citrus smell attacking my senses immediately, and reach for the plastic latch. When I open it, paper rains from the rectangular space onto the floor and I grab handfuls of letters, placing them on the seat beside me. The last letter on the floor, I see now, is from the University of Kentucky, and I take it in my hand, turn it over.
“What is this?”
Arthur doesn’t look at me, and licks his lips nervously. “Go on, you can open each one if you want.”
Centre. Transylvania. Eastern. Northern. Western. Georgetown.
There must be fifteen unopened letters here.
Since I go to UK, I decide to open that letter first.
“Dude,” I say. “You applied to UK?”
“Yes, what does it say?”
“That you got the scholarship you applied for,” I reply. “And that you should send a thank you letter to the donor because blah blah blah. Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were applying to schools? Did you apply to all of these schools?”
“Yeah, and I got into each of them. Those are all letters for various scholarships that I applied for.”
“UK is practically offering you a full ride, man. But how?”
“What do you mean how? I graduated with a 4.0 and have six years of mission work under my belt. Admissions officers live for that shit, especially when you’re from a rural part of the state.”
I sink back into my seat.
Arthur reaches for the radio and turns it off completely. “Are you mad at me for not telling you?”
“What are you even going to study?”
I am upset—not with him, but with myself, for not asking him about this stuff earlier. How could I have been so thoughtless? So oblivious? The topic had rarely ever come up, because I hadn’t wanted him to think I was judging him for not going to school this semester. I’m such a doofus sometimes.
“Well,” he says, “I like working on houses, and I think it’s something I could do for the rest of my life. So I was thinking maybe architecture?”
I reread the letter ten times before responding. “Well, UK has a great architecture program, or so I’ve heard.”
The mere thought of Arthur being so close nearly drives me to tears.
“Would it bother you if we both went to the same school? Because there’s like ten schools to choose from.”
I close my eyes. Gwen would be lonely if Arthur moved to Lexington and left her behind. His grandmother is also sick, and I’m not sure it would be right to take him away from her. Arthur means the world to me and so does my sister, but to separate them so that I don’t have to be alone seems wrong, selfish. I don’t know how I should answer his question.
“Oh, don’t even start with that stuff. Wasn’t it you who said that I let life pass me by?”
“Lancelot? I thought you were gone.”
“No—unfortunately I’m still here, and now I have this cat meowing all the time, like it needs to go outside. I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done to me. Now listen here, because I really don’t like talking to you unless I absolutely have to. Your sister wil
l be fine. You heard Arthur himself. Morgan has a vicious thirst for your sister. And his grandmother wants him to be happy. Don’t forget that she’s the one who encouraged him to move out of his parents’ house. Be selfish for once in your life, and take what you want. You’ve earned this.”
“You’d better not interfere in my life, or else I will have you exorcised the fuck out of existence. I know a couple of Santería priests, you know.”
“Honestly, if it meant that I didn’t have to listen to this cat anymore, I might take you up on your offer. But seriously, I have to wait until this body gives out to finally join my love, so there’s no sense in repeating my past mistakes. Take him. He’s yours.”
“Lance?” Arthur’s voice reins me back into reality. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop at the next truck stop?”
I turn my head from side to side. “What are you going to do with Yin and Yang? Are you gonna give them up?”
Arthur’s forehead scrunches, and he replies, “Absolutely not. They will come with me, of course, because they are my babies. Um—I am going to keep on workin’ and savin’ until I have enough to move into an apartment off campus. Everything on Craigslist sounds like a fuckin’ scam, but I’m sure I’ll find something. If I don’t, I’ll just ask Gwen to watch ‘em until I do. She loves those cats as much as I do, and besides, she might appreciate the company.”
Tears begin streaming down my cheeks and I look out of the window—because I’m not brave enough to say it to his face, not yet—and tell Arthur that I want him to move to Lexington, to choose UK, to choose me, so that we can be closer to each other, and that nothing in the world would make me happier.
A few seconds later the wheels of his truck hit a patch of uneven rumble strips and he pulls onto the shoulder, flipping on the emergency lights in a hurry. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and slides over to me, knocking my bits of orange peel and the pile of letters onto the floorboard in the process.
Arthur caresses my neck, then drags his index finger along my jawline and eventually tips my chin to greet his.
Eyes that are full of love and understanding peer into mine, and the burning intensity of them is almost too much for me to bear, so I close my eyes and fight back heavy sobs. Then, without warning, hot, wet lips smash into mine, and I grab the collar of Arthur’s shirt.
“I love you,” he says, after he finally pulls away. “And when you died, it was like the world lost its color. I know it was only for like three minutes or something, but I want to spend as much time with you as I can. You heard Olivia. This is it. We don’t get a do-over.”
“I know,” I say. “This is it.”
After nearly a decade of misunderstandings and denying ourselves the happiness we had been seeking for hundreds of years, Arthur and I will finally be together, not as king or knight, but as college students. At this point, we’ve faced damn near every challenge known to man, and it’s obvious to me that I still have some things I need to work on, but with Arthur’s love and support, I’m sure I’ll get there, that we’ll get there, regardless of what gets thrown our way.
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A Dragon’s Treasure:
Cody’s Dragon
K.M. Mahoney
Excerpt
Kirit’s boots hit the pavement with a dull thud. He paused a moment and surveyed his surroundings with narrowed eyes.
Nothing unusual caught his attention from where he stood, hidden between two buildings. He didn’t really expect it to. Old habits were hard to break, though.
He shifted his pack into a more secure position before diving into the crowded walkway. He would have to pick one of the busiest times of day to arrive—bad timing all around. At least the weather was still warm, and he wasn’t forced to wade through knee-high snow. Denver was a bitch in the winter.
Kirit ate up the distance with long-legged strides, people unconsciously clearing a path for him. He knew his sheer size, along with his harshly carved features, didn’t invite any pleasantries.
It took Kirit less than ten minutes to cover the blocks to his destination. He ascended a rickety staircase, which clung to the outside of the brick building with precarious tenacity. The metal door squealed loudly when he opened it, revealing a dim and narrow hall. Halfway along, he rapped firmly on the door marked 1207.
“Who’s there?” A voice called from the other side.
“Kirit. Open up.”
Locks clicked. Kirit counted six. That was, in his opinion, a bit unnecessary. Harper wasn’t exactly helpless on his own.
The door swung open to show a short, stocky man standing there. He had well-tanned skin and a spiked mess of blue-tipped brown hair. “What’re you doing here?”
“That’s a marvelous way to greet someone. Are you going to let me in?”
“Will you go away if I don’t?” Harper stepped aside to let Kirit enter his tiny apartment.
Once inside, Kirit dropped his pack to the floor next to his feet, not bothering to look around. He’d been here often enough and there wasn’t much to see.
“Want a beer?” Harper disappeared into the tiny closet he called a kitchen.
“Hardly.”
“Snob.”
“Absolutely.”
Harper reappeared seconds later, popping the lid off a bottle. He let it fall to the floor, obviously unconcerned when it bounced off the cracked ceramic tile and rolled under the olive-green couch. “So, what brings a high and mighty Draak to the human realm?”
“I’m on a hunt.”
Harper’s expression sharpened with interest. He let the bottle in his hand dangle at his side for a moment. “Dragon, Fae, or—”
“Not that kind of hunt.”
“Oh.” Harper returned his attention to his drink.
“I’m on a mate hunt.”
“Good for you.”
“In this realm.”
Harper choked, spraying his last mouthful of beer across the room. The distance was impressive—Kirit had to sidestep to avoid being hit.
“Sorry,” Harper said. “I think my hearing’s going.”
“Your hearing is fine. It’s the rest of you that’s…going.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know. But you’re going right alongside me. A mate? On this side? Are you nuts?”
“It worked for Merrick.”
“Merrick isn’t Draak.”
“Everyone keeps saying that. I’m sick of being alone. My mate is clearly not behind the Veil, and I’m not interested in waiting for the next generation to grow up. I didn’t come here for a lecture. I’ve heard it all. Dozens of times.”
Harper looked resigned. “Fine. Why did you come, then? Where do I fit into this grand scheme of yours?”
“I need connections. Information. What is the best way to meet the most number of people in the least amount of time?”
“Sheesh, you don’t ask for much, do you?”
Kirit crossed his arms and raised one dark eyebrow.
“Do you realise how many people live in this frickin’ city?” Harper pointed out.
“Shall I give you a precise number or an estimate?”
“Shut up.” Harper groaned. He grabbed another beer before plopping onto the couch. The ragged piece of furniture echoed Harper’s groan, creaking ominously under his weight. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, waving with his bottle. “This will take a while. Oh, and grab something to write with. You can make a list.”
Kirit did as directed, settling himself gingerly on a chair which was slightly newer than the couch, but even uglier. “You may begin,” he directed.
Harper growled. “Fucking dragon.”
Kirit gave the witch an extremely toothy smile. “That’s the ultimate goal.”
“Next time, I’m not opening the door,” Harper declared.
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About the Author
Jackson Garton spent his formative years in the Appalachian region of the United States, and has chosen to call Kentucky ‘home’ for the past twenty years. As a queer trans person living in this part of the country, he possesses a rather unique perspective, and this can be observed throughout the fantastical stories he tells. He also has a strong penchant for cats, tea, and the arcane.
Jackson loves to hear from readers. You can find his contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com
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