A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2) - Page 51

“She’s under the watch of the Castle Guard,” Ryan said. “Along with that… that man.”

Randall arched one of the eyebrows that was eating his face. “I take it we’re not a fan of that man, whoever he may be.”

“He’s the Wolf to the phuro,” Morgan said, sounding resigned. “And she brought him here to become Sam’s cornerstone.”

Randall cackled. “Oh, the look that must have been on his face. What I would have given to see that.”

“I’m glad you find this all so amusing,” I said, grinding my teeth together. “Seeing as how a woman I’ve never met came out of nowhere to tell me I had to break up with Ryan and do what she said. And only to find out that you both knew about this. Don’t even get me started on the fact that she thinks I’m going to do anything with Ruv. I don’t care how good he looks without his shirt on or how bendy he seems to be. It doesn’t matter if that shit is erotic, or that he has dusky nipples, or—”

“I think we get it,” Ryan snapped. “And dusky nipples? My nipples are like—”

“Hush, babe,” I said. “I’m talking. Also, your nipples are wonderful and I am merely just trying to make a point.”

“Which is?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and flexing unfairly.

My mouth dried a little. “Holy biceps,” I whispered feverishly.

Ryan might have looked rather smug at that.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image of licking Ryan’s biceps. I could do that later. “It’s not even about him. I don’t care if he has the potential to be a cornerstone. Morgan told me there could be more than one a long time ago, but I’ve already made my choice. Nothing you or she or anyone else could say will change my mind on that. I don’t care what sort of deal you made with her. It’s not happening. Not now. Not ever.”

Ryan’s hand found my own, palm to palm, fingers entwined. He gave a gentle squeeze, and I did the same right back.

“I told you, Sam,” Morgan said. “I didn’t make a deal with her. Not over this.”

“Then why is she so—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Randall said. “Just tell him. Or I could. I probably wouldn’t sugarcoat it like you’re going to. We don’t agree on much, but even I can see the boy is tenacious. The gods only know why you insist on coddling the boy. I never did that for you.”

Ah, and there it was again. Yet another reference to Randall as Morgan’s mentor that they would probably tell me jack shit about. Much of Randall’s past was shrouded in secret. At first I thought it was because he was at a level of magic my tiny little brain couldn’t understand. But as I grew older, I came to realize it was just because he was a dick. There were stories told, of the madness of a king brought back to sanity by Randall’s force of will and of his cornerstone, Myrin, who had been hidden in shadow. Myrin, who had built up Randall’s magic to allow it to be where it was today.

I had so many questions about this, but now wasn’t the time. “You knew me,” I said. I was tired, exhausted really, and it was evident in my voice. “Before the day in the alley. Both of you.”

“Yes,” Morgan said simply.

“Because of her. Vadoma.”

“Yes.”

I looked back and forth between them, using Ryan’s hand as an anchor. “Was any of this real, then? Or was everything that’s happened to me, everything that has made me who I am… was it all planned from the start?”

There was a pained look on Morgan’s face. “Sam, everything that you’ve been through, the lessons you’ve learned, both on your own and taught to you, have been real. I swear to you on all that I have.”

“The paths we take are divergent,” Randall said without his usual ire. “The choices we make cause them to splinter off in different directions. No one could have foreseen you becoming exactly the person you are today. It doesn’t work like that. And Morgan’s right. You have always had free will, Sam. You’ve been guided, but not controlled.”

“Then what is this?” I asked. “What is all of this?”

“Gypsies have magic,” Morgan said. “But it’s different than what you or I know. The rules that govern the wizarding world do not apply to them. They can do things we cannot. The same can be said about us against them. They don’t deal in the physical magic, but esoteric. Mystical. It’s a—”

“Bunch of horse crap, if you ask me,” Randall grunted. “Reading tea leaves and bones and wailing up at the heavens in front of a bonfire to show them the future.”

“It felt real when she had me pressed up against a wall,” I said.

Randall waved me off. “Sleight of hand. A distraction. Hardly civilized. I could stand outside under the stars and spout a hundred different predictions about the future and have the same success as the gypsies. The difference being I know it’s a crock. The fact remains, most of it never ends up coming true. And even if it does, it’s only because it was inevitable.”

“Except me,” I said.

“Except you,” Morgan agreed. “But then, you have always been the exception. She came to me shortly before your birth under the cover of darkness. I was on the road between here and Meridian City, returning to the castle. I hadn’t stopped, because I could see the lights of the City of Lockes, and I wanted to be home. I was alone on the road until I wasn’t. She told me her name was Vadoma, that she hailed from the desert, and she had a message for me.”

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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