“He attempted to consume it. Your magic. He wasn’t fighting against it.” He shook his head. “He was trying to eat it.”
Morgan paled as I took a step back.
“He was trying to what?”
“It’s a dark art,” Randall said as he looked down at his gnarled hands. “Something ancient and evil. It’s the consumption of another’s magic.” He sighed, looking worn and frail. “I never thought he’d go this far. It’s not something I thought him capable of. Such an act tears at the very fabric of the soul. It’s unnatural and goes against everything we are ever taught about the nature of magic.”
“How?” I managed to ask.
“It’s….” He looked back up at me. “I’ve never actually seen it done before. If you had asked me before today, I would have told you it was nothing more than a myth. But those scars, those… marks upon your skin, suggest otherwise.”
“Are you sure?” Morgan asked, looking back and forth between us. “That can’t be real. It was only ever theory, and a horrific one at that. And even if it was real, Myrin wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”
A memory then, hitting me right in the chest. A voice rising in my mind, a man upon the surface of a lake, his hand around my throat, holding me up high.
It’s never been about the dragons. I don’t want the dragons. Those are all yours, kiddo. Gather them. Don’t. I don’t give a fuck what you do with them. In the end, it won’t matter. For them. For you.
“He told me,” I whispered. “He said his plan was never about the dragons. That it was something else. Something more.”
“Your magic is beyond anything the world has ever seen,” Randall said. “And he wants it for his own. He tried in Mashallaha. I believe those scars are evidence of that. I don’t know why he didn’t succeed, but I suspect it’s because of your strength, Sam. He underestimated you. He won’t make that mistake again. If he’s pursuing what I think he is, he wants to rip your magic from you and consume it to make it his own. Should he succeed, I believe that he would become unstoppable. The dragons appear to be tied to your magic. If he takes yours, then theoretically, they would be tied to him.”
I opened my mouth to say something when the door to Mama’s office burst open and—
“Um,” Ryan Foxheart said, eyes going wide as he looked between the three of us. I didn’t know what he saw, but the tension in the room had to be palpable. “Maybe I should… have… knocked? I can go back out and try it again if that would help?” Then he frowned. “Also, why are you half-naked, and why does Randall look like he’s going to bad-touch you?”
Gods, I adored every single thing about him.
He looked at me nervously, like he was afraid Randall or Morgan was going to curse him right then and there for saying that. Which, honestly, Randall was probably giving great consideration to, if the look on his face meant anything. I, of course, thought Ryan had the most impeccable timing, and I was going to give him the sloppiest blow job possible when we were done here. I tried to relay that with my eyes and by licking my lips sexily (which is really hard to do, but I knew I could totally pull it off).
“Are your lips dry?” Ryan asked me with a frown.
I winked at him, trying to distract him from the heaviness in the room.
“Ohhh,” he said, then proceeded to flush furiously. He coughed, a brittle smile on his face. “Erm. That’s not… uh. Hello.” He bowed, bringing his hand as a fist to his chest, a sign of respect to Randall and Morgan. I wanted to devour him whole. “I apologize for the intrusion.”
“I’m sure you do,” Morgan said, sounding amused. “What is it, Knight Commander?”
He blinked slowly. “I wanted to… say h
i?”
“Really.”
He sighed. “No. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing magic things to Sam.”
“Magic things,” Randall repeated.
“You know,” Ryan said, wiggling his fingers at Randall. “Magic things. You all looked angry when you left, and I didn’t know if you were shocking him with lightning like that one time.”
“And you came here to rescue me?” I asked, breathless. “Oh my gods, I’m going to make you ride me so godsdamn hard later, you don’t even know.” Then, as Randall groaned and Morgan started choking, I added, “Not that I need you to rescue me or anything. I can certainly handle these old dudes. But still. So godsdamn hard. You’re not going to be able to walk straight for a week. And holy shit, my nipples are hard now. This is awkward.” I pulled my shirt back over my head, happy to get the scars away from Randall’s prying eyes.
“Perhaps that’s not in his best interest,” Morgan said lightly. “Especially if he’s going to be walking with the others to Castle Freesias.”
Ryan was as red as I’d ever seen him. “Maybe don’t talk about that kind of thing right now,” he said through gritted teeth. “We can discuss that later—wait. What do you mean when I’m going to be walking with the others?” He glanced from Morgan back to me. “Where are you going to be?”
I looked pointedly at Randall and waved my hand. “Well, oh wise one? Why don’t you tell my cornerstone about how you feel the need to separate us?”
“He’s going to what?” Ryan asked, taking a step forward.