by T. J. Klune
I pushed the thoughts away. There was still much I had to do and a short time with which to do it. I shoved my Grimoire into my pack and hoisted it on my shoulder. I turned and gave him a nod, trying to keep the surprise off my face to see him by himself, no Randall in sight.
Morgan himself had a carefully blank expression, betraying nothing. I’d seen him with the same look when dealing with unruly heads of state, knowing his countenance didn’t give away just how much of a dumbass he thought they were. Whether or not he was thinking the same thing about me, I didn’t care. I needed to leave. I was angry at him. Very angry. It was deeply unsettling, because I’d never been that way with him before.
I forced myself to meet his gaze before heading for the door. Part of me screamed to turn around, to get everything off my chest, to never say goodbye without actually saying goodbye, but I didn’t. I reached the door. It felt like I was vibrating. I put my hand on the knob. I turned it. The lock clicked and—
“He wasn’t always bad,” Morgan said quietly. “My brother.”
I stopped. Tried to breathe through it.
“He was… smart. Strong willed. Vibrant. A sense of humor like you wouldn’t believe. Everyone was charmed by him. He wasn’t afraid to step on people if it meant getting what he wanted, but he would always make sure to apologize for doing so. And the difference between him and others is that he would be sincere about it. If he did you wrong, he was genuinely sorry about it.”
I let go of the door but didn’t turn around.
“He was older than me,” Morgan continued. “By centuries. Our parents were… difficult, to say the least. More obsessed with furthering their magic than caring about their sons. They regretted us, I think. Or, rather, they were indifferent toward us. I don’t believe they meant for Myrin to happen. They certainly didn’t mean for me to happen, but sometimes, fate and magic have minds of their own, and when they intertwine, the results can be… unexpected.”
“How is he Randall’s cornerstone?” I asked begrudgingly. I didn’t want to acknowledge any of it, but that question had been bugging me almost as much as why Morgan had kept what he did from me and what had happened to Myrin in the first place.
“Randall’s… different.”
“No shit.”
“Like you’re different.”
I whirled around at that. “Are you comparing me to him?” I suppose it could have been a compliment to anyone else, but it was Randall. This was not a compliment to me.
He shrugged, face still blank. “It’s not an off comparison. A wizard builds, Sam. That’s what magic is. That’s what the cornerstone is for. But even before you can build, you must design. You can’t just start putting the blocks together without a coherent plan to do so. The results could be…. Well. That’s what the Darks are. People who will not invest the time needed to follow the true path of magic. They are impatient. Cut corners. They burn out parts of their hearts and soul just to have a taste of magic on their tongue.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with Randall. Or me.”
He drummed his fingers along the countertop. “Of course you don’t. Because you don’t see the big picture. You think of here. Of now. Not decades down the road.”
“Maybe because parts of it have been hidden from me,” I snapped.
And there it was, the barest of flinches, the smallest of cracks in the mask. I knew he wasn’t indifferent to all this. I knew that. Morgan loved me, maybe more than anyone else in the world. That wasn’t in question.
But he had lied. He had withheld the truth from me. I’d trusted him, and maybe part of me still did. I trusted him to protect the King and Justin. I trusted him to protect my parents. And Tiggy and Gary and Ryan. I trusted him to protect me. But everything else?
I didn’t know anymore.
“There are reasons, Sam,” he said. “For everything. Even if you’re angry at me now, and even if you don’t understand, there are reasons for everything I do.”
“You didn’t choose me,” I said. “I always thought you had. But you didn’t. I was forced upon you by some crazy lady from the desert. That’s all this ever was. And to make it worse, you left us to wallow in the slums. You could have come for us earlier. You didn’t. Do you know how many times my parents went hungry just so I could be fed? How many times I heard my mother crying at night because she thought she had failed me?”
The mask cracked further. He took a step toward me, made an aborted motion to reach out for me. Instead, his hand fell to his side and curled into a fist. “I was wrong,” he said. “And for that, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Randall was… adamant. That we let your life unfold as naturally as possible before needing to intervene. He thought it would build your character, that it would make you a better person. And while I don’t disagree, I believe you should have been given more. And it is my fault that didn’t happen. I should have fought harder. I am imperfect, Sam. No matter what you may have thought about me before. I am to blame as much as Randall is. If not more.”
“Why? Why did he think that? Why would Randall put me through that?”
“Myrin,” Morgan said. “Randall thought mistakes made in the past could be avoided in the future. He designed his magic, Sam. For centuries. More than anyone else has ever done before. And when it was time to find his cornerstone, he didn’t have to look very far.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You’re like him in that you’re different. But where he created design after design after design, your magic was already within you. What you did that day in the alley so very long ago should have been impossible. The design of your magic was at levels far beyond what I or Myrin or even Randall ever had. Which is why finding your cornerstone when you did, at an age so young, was the right path meant for you. It was the only path meant for you. It wasn’t just fate, Sam. It was necessary.”
“And if I hadn’t found him?” I asked, jaw tense. “If I hadn’t found Ryan? Would you have pawned me off on Ruv when Vadoma came for me?”
He hesitated. “I would have laid out your options.”
I snorted. “It’s a good thing that I made my own choices, then.”
“Yes, Sam. It is.”
“I’m so angry, Morgan.”
“I know.”
“At Randall. At you. At Vadoma. This is my life that you all meddled in.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” I spat at him.
He looked older than I’d ever seen him before. “Every choice I’ve made, whether good or bad, has always been with your best interest in mind. Yes, I knew of you before. Yes, I could have done more. Yes, this impossible situation feels like our hand was forced. But Sam, I chose to love you as I do because of who you are, not who you were supposed to be. I love you because you mean the world to me. You have always been the joy that is in my heart.”
“Godsdammit,” I said, wiping my eyes. “That is so unfair. You manipulative bastard. Hitting me right in the feels.”
There was a small smile on his face. “Is it working?”
“Maybe. I’m still mad.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to hug you, though.”
I thought maybe his shoulders sagged a little in relief at that, but he put on a good front. “Must we?”
“We must,” I said, shuffling forward. And I didn’t even have it in me to chide him when his arms came up around me and held me tightly, his beard tickling my cheek. It was a good hug, but I didn’t let it last very long. I had a point to prove, after all.
I pulled away, and he let me go. I took a step back, shouldering the pack again. I wanted to leave, to put some distance between us so I could clear my head, but I needed more.
“Myrin,” I said.
Morgan looked away. “We couldn’t save him. Not when he started walking a path we could not follow. Not I, his brother, nor Randall, his love, could drag him away from the dark. There was a king, long before the Good King, that was driven mad b
y Myrin’s counsel. Randall brought the king back by the sheer force of his will, and together, we banished Myrin to a realm of shadows because we could not bear to end his life. We begged him. We pleaded with him. But he was already lost to the dark. And nothing we could do would have brought him back. We failed him, Sam. And I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.”
“Did you know it was him?” I asked. “When Vadoma came to you about the dark man in shadows?”
“No,” Morgan said. “Or at least I’d hoped. I’ve spent the decades making sure the seals remained in place between this world and the shadow world. I didn’t even feel them crack.”
“Then how did he come back?”
“That is the mystery, Sam.”
I set the pack on the countertop and sighed. This was already more complicated than I had hoped it would be. “You have to tell me,” I said. “Everything. Because if this is true, if the star dragon was right, then Myrin will come for me. And I will do everything I can to stop your brother.”
And so he did. He spoke in a monotone, flat and expressionless. By the time he’d finished, his voice was hoarse and my heart hurt. For him. For Randall. And for what it was I was being called on to do. And I was trembling, because the story he’d told, the things that had been done, shook me to my very core. Before I left, I took his face in my hands and kissed his forehead as he gripped my arms.
He said, “Be safe, Sam of Wilds. The world depends upon it. As do I, because I need you so.”
I nodded and left him standing in the labs with nothing but the memories of loss and betrayal.
And I didn’t look back.
Chapter 13: The Gypsy City
AS WE approached Mashallaha, the picture became clearer as to what waited for us. I had never ventured this far west, knowing I was considered banished given that I was my mother’s son. And the desert really didn’t appeal to me. All that sand getting into my crevices was not my idea of a good time.
I knew of Mashallaha, as I knew of every major city in Verania. I’d heard the stories, seen the drawings, but nothing prepared me for the first sight of it.
It was in the middle of the oasis, the buildings and homes and shops built atop the lake that was fed from some underground source. Mashallaha was mostly wood, the city resting on thick pillars that were embedded into the lakebed below. Everything was connected by wooden planks and pathways above the water, with narrow channels built for speedier travel by long, thin canoes. It looked like paradise with its brightly colored flags and lights on strings that stretched between all the dwellings.
The rich would often come to Mashallaha on vacation, as it was as exotic as anything got in Verania. Most of Mashallaha’s economy was built around tourism, with lavish and rustic hotels and gypsy customs that seemed mysterious and bizarre to the more refined city-folk. Traveling to Mashallaha was harsh and arduous but supposedly made worth it when you were lying on a bed padded with palm fronds, feeling the room rock gently around with the waves below, staring up through an open panel at the stars above.
I didn’t have time for shit like that.
The last time I tried to take a vacation was six months ago with Ryan. We’d been halfway to Meridian City when we were attacked by a group of audacious trolls who were convinced that Ryan was somehow their queen, something I had yet to let him live down. Needless to say, it’d ended up with him wearing a crown of flowers while I was tied to a tree, too busy laughing my ass off to try and save either of us. Eventually they’d let us go, but only after Ryan had promised to return on a regular basis as their figurehead. He’d been back twice so far. Gary was seriously jealous over it.
But other than that, between wizarding and some really spectacular butt sex, I didn’t have time for long getaways. The fact that we were here now was because our hand had been forced. Even with the beauty of Mashallaha, I wanted to spend as little time here as I could before moving on. It would take us a good six weeks to reach Castle Freeze Your Ass Off after dealing with the desert dragon, and I wanted to get there sooner rather than later so I could give Randall a piece of my mind face to face.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Gary moaned as we got closer. “This has been hell on my thighs. I am going to find the most bronze cabana boy I can and make him massage my flanks while feeding me little pieces of frozen fruit.”
“And I shall find an even bronzer cabana boy and show him the wonders of a forked tongue,” Kevin said, holding his head up high. “You know what they say. You haven’t been porked until you’ve been forked.”
“No one says that,” I said. “Literally no one at all.”
“I heard it before,” Tiggy said. “From Gary.”
“Tiggy!” Gary shrieked. “I would never. I have a bit more self-respect than that.”
“Pfft,” Kevin said, a little tendril of smoke curling from his nostrils. “That’s not what you said when you were sitting on my dick.”
“You’d think I’d be used to hearing things like that.” Ryan grimaced. “You’d be wrong.”
“Sam,” Gary said. “Would you please tell Kevin that I am much classier than—”
“Nope,” I said. “Nope, nope, nope. Stop it. Just stop it. I’m tired. I hate the sun. I have sand on the skin between my balls and my asshole. I am going to a city run by my grandmother, who I believe is sketchy and nefarious. I have to face a dragon who could eat me alive. All I want to do is lay on a bed, not move for hours, and I cannot do that if I have to sit here and listen to your shit.”
“Oh snap,” Tiggy said. “Sam go rawr.”
“Can I be honest right now?” Gary asked. “That turned me on a little bit. Like, at least half a chub.” He fluttered his eyelashes at me. “You want to go get a drink later? Maybe after, if you’re lucky, you can finally find out what it means to taste the rainbow.”
“Oh my gods,” I gagged. “Everything hurts. Everything hurts.”
“I’m coming after your man,” Gary told Ryan. “You best watch your back. When Gary sets his eyes on something, Gary gets what he wants.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “You know what? I’m not too worried about that this time around.”
“Because you’ve already accepted the inevitable?”
“Sure,” Ryan said, rubbing a hand on my back in a slow circle. “Let’s go with that.”
“I’m bigger than he is,” Kevin grumbled. “And I mean everywhere.”
“Hey!” I snapped. “It’s not about the size, but what you do with it. Trust me, Gary’s not even gonna remember your name by the time I get done plowing him like a—holy gods, what am I even saying?”
“Maybe a little worried.” Ryan frowned.
“Someone’s getting a piece of wizard tonight!” Gary crowed gleefully.
“I want some wizard too,” Tiggy said with a pout.
“We can share,” Gary told him.
“Over my dead body,” Ryan said. “You do realize I have a sword, right? I will motherfuc—”
“No cussing!” I admonished him. “You’re a godsdamned knight, for fuck’s sake. Act like one!”
“—mothercracking stab you if you try and get up in his business.”
Get up in his business, Gary mouthed to Tiggy, looking bewildered. Tiggy just shrugged. I felt a little tingly myself.
And of course, since we were distracted by Gary and his threats of spraying me in primary colors, we didn’t see the guards standing at the gates to Mashallaha until one of them coughed.
We all turned to glare at them.
They took a step back, eyes wide, muttering to each other in the gypsy tongue. I was hit with a little pang at the thought of my mother, how much it sounded like her. She would have grown up in this place, and left it all behind to be with my father in the slums. She gave up a life in paradise to be with the one she loved. Gods, that was romantic as all hell.
“Sorry,” I said, putting on my most winsome smile. “We were… distracted.”
“Distracted by my dick,” Gary muttered.
I elbowed him in the throat, ignoring the way he started choking like a drama queen. “We have come from the City of Lockes,” I said. “I am—”
“We know who you are,” the guard on the right said.
“We know why you’ve come,” the guard on the left said, and it was only then that I realized they were twins, with beautiful dark skin, black hair pulled back tightly in a bun. They wore thin pants cinched at the ankles and brightly colored open vests with nothing underneath, showing off lean muscle on hairless torsos covered in tattoos. They carried spears in their hands, but they weren’t pointed at us. Their dark eyes were trained on me.
“She is expecting you,” Right said.
“We are all expecting you,” Left said.
They bowed in unison.
“Creepy,” Gary singsonged under his breath. “Do you think they make out at all? I’d be down with that.”
“That’s… good,” I said to the twins, a little taken aback. “I am glad you’re—”
They stood back up, ignoring me completely, looking up at Kevin instead. “Lord Dragon,” Left said. “It is an honor to be standing in your glorious presence.”
Everyone but Kevin groaned.
“No,” I said. “You can’t say that to him. You don’t know what you’ll unleash—”
“Lord Dragon, you say?” Kevin said, cocking his head. “Lord Dragon. Well now. This is certainly… expected. It has been far too long since I have been addressed as such.”
Left and Right turned to glare at me.
“What?” I asked. “I didn’t do anything. He’s not a lord—”
“Don’t listen to the plebian,” Kevin said, affecting an air of superiority. Like an asshole. “He shan’t know what he spaketh of. Thou shalt listen to me: Lord Dragon. The Beast from the East. Thy and they may calleth me his majestic majesty, King of all dragons…. Kevin.”
