by TJ Klune
“We still have a ways to go,” Randall said. “It’s best to keep going for now so we don’t get stuck in an open place like this should there be a storm.”
“What’s ‘a ways’?”
“Oh,” he said cheerfully, “hours.”
“I like my idea so much better,” I muttered.
“Of course you would. Most narcissists do.”
“You know what? I don’t even care that you just insulted me. My thighs are quivering, and I am coming to the realization that climbing mountains is the absolute worst.”
“What is it with you and thighs?”
“Gross. Stop talking dirty to me. You know I don’t like you like that.”
Yeah, I deserved it when he smacked me on the top of the head with his walking stick.
IT WAS late morning when we stopped for the second time in an alcove of sorts. A rocky shelf stuck out of the side of the mountain over us, and while it wasn’t warm, it was a respite from the wind.
I collapsed face-first in the snow, my pack digging into my back. “Just leave me here,” I said, voice muffled. “This is a good place for me to die. I don’t even care. Those mountain climbers can find me instead and wonder what religious purposes my booty served.”
“I would have no problem with that,” he said, taking a seat on a boulder near the back of the alcove. “But I am sure someone would say something. The people who care for you tend to be a bit….”
“Protective?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.
“I was going to say loud.”
“Ah. That works too.”
“It often does with you.”
“I’m so tired, I can’t even think of a devastating retort.”
“Oh, blessed be. Maybe stop talking for a little while, then. Rest your mouth and my ears.”
I did. For a good three minutes. “So.”
He sighed the most put-upon sigh I’d ever heard.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t been expecting that, if the look he gave me meant anything. “For?”
I pushed myself up until I could move next to the boulder where he sat. I leaned against the back wall, setting my pack on the ground beside me. I brought my knees up to my chest. “For what I said. You know. Before.”
“You said many things that you should apologize for. Be specific.”
I bit my tongue against the sass that threatened to spill. Once I was sure it had passed, I said, “I’m talking about how I upset you when I asked why you didn’t have a wizarding name like everyone else.”
He stiffened but made no move to throw me off the side of the mountain, so that was a start. We sat in an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on for days. Just when I was about to literally say anything (and probably make things that much worse), Randall surprised me by speaking first.
“I don’t like to think about it.”
“Oh. That’s… fair?”
He scoffed. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure what else to say.”
“And you’re not going to push?”
“Nah. That’s not my thing. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. You’re allowed to keep things to yourself. If they don’t involve me, that is. Because any shit that involves me, I demand you tell me right away. No more secrets. Secrets suck. Ryan’s already going to be so pissed at me when I tell him everything.” Which was not something I was looking forward to.
“He doesn’t know about—”
I shook my head. “Everything I wrote and showed you in my Grimoire? Yeah. You’re kind of the only one, dude. So. Yay you, or whatever.”
“Don’t call me dude,” he said, but it lacked its usual heat. Which was good, because I really did prefer the whole wear-you-down method when it came to things. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
I shrugged. “Because I thought I could save him.”
“You’re a moron.”
“Probably.”
He sighed. “But so am I.”
“You won’t hear me arguing.”
“I….” He looked out to the falling snow. Then, “I wanted to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Magic. Everything. After… after him, I wanted nothing more than to collapse in on myself like a star.”
I couldn’t find a single word to say.
He chuckled ruefully. “At the very least, I wanted to hide myself away from everything. To mourn in isolation. Magic had—I’ve always loved it. Magic. Ever since I was a boy. I was always enchanted by it. That I could do things that others could not. That I could help others in ways they didn’t expect. That I could bend the natural boundaries of the world at my whim. It was… intoxicating.
“Then he—Myrin. He only added to it. I never thought my cornerstone would be another wizard. I’d never heard of such a thing. My mentor warned me against it, telling me that cornerstones were a folly of man. And for a long time, I believed him. I didn’t—I didn’t have a cornerstone. Not even when I passed the Trials. I did it on my own. He didn’t come until after. I was… enchanted. By him. I don’t know that I could have stopped it had I tried.”
The wind howled.
“I don’t know if it was me,” he continued. “I don’t know if it was just him. Or a combination of the two. Or some other reason entirely. I don’t know why he—he did what he did. Why he chose the path to darkness. But he did, and you know what happened after that. Eventually, he was overcome. Eventually, he was locked away. Locked away in hopes that one day he could be purified again. Be the man Morgan and I had loved. But I… I didn’t want it anymore. The magic. I blamed it. For everything that had happened. I pulled the King of Sorrow back from the grip of madness, and I wanted that to be it. I was suffering. I was hurting. I wanted to be selfish. Do you know what stopped me?”
I started to shake my head but stopped myself. “Morgan.”
“Yes. Morgan. He stopped me. He told me that the world needed me, and I it. That one day I would find my way again. Maybe it wouldn’t be with Myrin. Maybe there would be no cure. Maybe we would never see him again. But if I stopped, Morgan said, if I just gave up, then he would have won. And that, no matter what, could not happen.”
He looked down at his hands. “It took a few years. To piece myself back together. For him. But I did, at least temporarily. He passed the Trials. He became Morgan of Shadows by his own choice. He thought it was a way of… honoring his brother. And after, I… let myself fall.”
“What happened then?”
He shook his head. “That’s a story for another day.”
“I’m glad that you didn’t give up,” I said quietly.
He laughed dryly. “Even after everything?”
“Even after everything.”
“You’re a good man, Sam. I know that I—I know that I don’t say it often. Or ever. But I am proud of you and the man you’ve become.”
I grinned at him. “Should we hug?”
He glared at me. “I will tell you the name if you don’t.”
“Oh my gods,” I said. “That is the hardest choice ever.”
“That’s just sad.”
“I mean, your wizarding name is probably something amazing. But everyone knows that hugs are just as amazing. If not more. Argh. Curse you, Randall! How dare you put me in such a position!”
“You have two seconds to decide.”
“What! So unfair!”
“One second.”
“Gaaah, okay, okay. The name. Give me the name.”
“Done, but for one thing.”
“Caveat. Of course there’s a caveat. There’s no caveats in hugs. Should have chosen that. Wicked lame, dude. You suck.”
“You can’t ask anything more about it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “About the name? Uh. Okay. That’s… I don’t know what that is. But this is the path I chose, so lay it on me.”
&nb
sp; He stood, knees popping, standing taller than I’d ever seen him before. I felt the magic curling around our little alcove, and it was bright and sharp. I was in awe at the strength of it.
He looked down at me and said, “When I was an apprentice, I was Randall the Golden Leaf. When I passed the Trials, I became Randall of Dragons. Come now. We have rested long enough.”
Then he disappeared out into the snow, leaving me gaping after him.
HOURS LATER:
“You can’t just—”
“No.”
“But you have to—”
“No.”
“But what about—”
“No.”
“Oh my fucking gods,” I groused. “You are the worst. You are the absolute fucking worst. I can’t even with you right now.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll shut up for a little while, then.”
“Oh really, Randall of Dragons? You want me to shut up? Please, come at me, bro. Let’s do this right now!”
“Right now?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
We stood on a winding path that was barely the width of my shoulders. On the left was a sheer rock face that rose into the clouds. On my right was a drop that went directly down the side of the mountain. “Okay,” I said, backtracking a little. “Maybe not right now, but when we get to a place I don’t feel like vomiting at the sight of, you come at me, bro. Bring it.”
“I doubt you would like what I would bring.” He turned back around and continued forward.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I grumbled. “Should have gone with the damn hug. At least that way, I could have—”
Wizard wizard wizardwizardWIZARD
I stumbled, pitching to the right, head spinning as I was assaulted by the sheer pull of it, and I was falling—
A hand clasped tightly around my bicep, jerking me back. I hit the rock face, breathing heavily. That was too close.
“What the hell are you doing?” Randall demanded.
“Felt them,” I gasped, staring wide-eyed at the expanse of nothing before me. “In my head. They’re calling me.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked up. “We’re close. It would be prudent if you watched your step from this point forward.”
“Yeah, good idea. Watching my step. Watching all my steps. You don’t even know how many of my steps I’m going to watch.”
“All of them?”
I smiled weakly. “Maybe next time, wait until we’re not scaling the side of a mountain to develop a sense of humor.”
We continued upward, the path steep and narrowing even further. I could feel them at the back of my mind, tugging me forward. I gritted my teeth together to keep as much control as I could, but it was a difficult battle. It hadn’t been like this with Zero. I didn’t know if it was because there were two of them, or if it was because they were mated, but it hadn’t been like this in the desert. I just needed to get to them, let them see that I was a twink, and then the lesbian dragons and I would be best friends forever and that would be that.
However, when one decides on using the idea of being a twink as the main focal point of a plan, one should expect the plan to go awry. When seen from the outside, it should be plainly obvious. From the outside, one would never agree that being a twink is the best and only way to tame lesbian dragons.
But seeing as how I was on the side of a mountain, out of breath, trailing a man named Randall of Dragons, for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t necessarily thinking things through.
Which, of course, sums up most of my plans.
So when we crested a sharp hill and came to a gigantic flat surface, I was sure of myself.
Mostly sure.
Fifty percent.
Let’s try that again.
So when we crested a sharp hill and came to a gigantic flat surface, I was partially sure of myself. But it was a good partially sure.
At least until I saw the large opening carved into the side of the mountain.
“Please tell me we don’t have to go inside the dark, scary cave.”
“We have to go inside the dark, scary cave,” Randall said, barely containing his glee.
“I hate you so much right now. You don’t even know.”
“You’ll never know how much that pains me.”
“Ugh. Stop having a mouth full of sass. Let’s just get this over with.”
I tried to take a step forward, but he put an arm against my chest to stop me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, annoyed.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to get the dragons!”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
“Same way I got Zero. By showing my face, letting them get all snarly. The difference here is that they’re not fourteen-year-old little shits. They’ll see I’m a twink, and since they’re lesbians, they’ll love me and… wow. I really didn’t think that plan through, oh my gods. Why were you going to let me go through with this?”
“If only you’d had that realization years ago, one wonders where you might be. And I wasn’t letting you do anything. You were the one who was trying to sneak out of the castle!”
“You’re my elder,” I insisted. “You should know better than to enable me. Good job on that one. Just… let me think. For a moment.”
“I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” Randall muttered under his breath.
The plateau was larger than I expected it to be. The mountain still rose high above us, disappearing into the clouds, but the section we stood upon looked as if it had been carved into the side of the mountain. And given that I still knew absolutely nothing about dragons, even though I technically lived with one (though, in my defense, Kevin was the absolute worst dragon ever), I didn’t know if it was natural or if it had been… done. By something large.
The entrance to the cave itself looked as if Castle Freesias could have sat inside it with the topmost tower clearing the ceiling of the cave. And that… well. That certainly didn’t put me at ease.
“You said you’ve seen them,” I said, not looking away from the cave, the whispers in my head getting louder.
“I have,” Randall said.
“Are they… big?”
“They’re dragons.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Any chance you’ll tell me why you were called Randall of Dragons?”
“It doesn’t matter. Not here. Not for this.”
“Yeah,” I breathed out. “Right.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “So, Kevin is of the four-legged variety. Zero was a snake dragon monster thing. What kind of dragons am I looking at here? You gotta give me something.”
“They’re… feathered.”
“Feathered,” I said flatly. “That’s what you’re going with.”
He shrugged. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he was having the time of his life. But he couldn’t have been that stupid, right?
“Like… birds?”
“Very large birds, yes.”
“Oh my gods. Why are you like this?”
He smiled. “This is your destiny, Sam. I’m just along for the ride.”
Since I figured murdering him was out of the question, I decided to go in a different direction. “Okay, so here’s the plan.”
“I wait with bated breath.”
“Stop trying to be funny!”
“I cannot stop what comes naturally.”
“Gaaah! Okay! Here’s the plan. We are going to walk to the cave entrance. We are going to announce our presence. And then we are going to ask the dragons to come out and we’ll have a nice conversation. They’ll see what a good guy I am, and undoubtedly, since he’s an absolute dick, the star dragon will have already told them I would be coming. Hell, he probably told them a million years ago. There! See? It’s foolproof.”
“I often find that only fools see things as foolproof.”
I had a brief fantasy of him tumbling head over heels after I pushed him over the side of the mountain. “This wil
l work.”
He shrugged, looking almost bored. “If you say so.”
“Well I do say so.”
“Good. You sound confident.”
“So confident. You don’t even know how confident I am. Like, I’m the most confident I’ve ever been.”
“Uh-huh. So. Lead the way.”
I blanched at that. “Uh. Right. Okay. So. Here’s the thing. Maybe you should go first.”
“And why would I do that?”
Because if they were hungry, they could eat him while I ran. He’d already lived a long life. I was just starting mine. He was pale like the snow. I didn’t think dragons would like dark meat. Take your pick. “Because I respect you more than anything in the world,” I said, eyes wide and innocent.
He shoved my shoulder, forcing me ahead of him.
“Dammit. Fine. Since I can’t count on you to do it, I will.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.
“That doesn’t reassure me like you think it does.”
We started across the plateau. The snow was only flurries, but there was a strong wind that seemed to make it worse. It stung against my cheeks. I pulled the fur-lined collar of my coat tighter around my neck, trying to stay as warm as I could.
The whispers in my head were louder. They said things like wizard and hear us and we have been waiting for you, which wasn’t exactly helping my nerves. I had to remind myself that I needed to be brave rather than give in to the urge to run back down the mountain and find Ryan and the others and decide to take a beach vacation because godsdammit, I’d earned it more than anyone else in the world.
“Stupid fucking dragons,” I muttered. “Godsdamned prophecies. I just want one of those fruity drinks with the little umbrellas in it. Is that too much to ask?”
As we got closer to the cave, the whispers grew louder, clearer. They spoke as one, but I could feel two distinct pulses. One fluttered, almost like a bird. The other felt heavy and weighted. It was the more dominant of the two, and while it wasn’t angry, per se, it most definitely wasn’t happy that I was here.
“You can feel them, can’t you?” Randall asked quietly.
I nodded. “Both of them. They’re… bright. And strong.”
