The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3) - Page 132

There was a faint light ahead of us after we rounded the curve. The air was getting colder, and I inhaled deeply, the bite of it clearing my head. I held my arm against my chest, my shoulder on fire. All that mattered was getting to the light. I focused on that and Randall beside me. I told myself that Ryan would kick my ass if I died in this cave, that Gary and Tiggy would desecrate my grave in anger, that Kevin would deliver a sexually charged eulogy about his stepson who had died before he could fuck him. Since all that sounded terrible, I ran as fast as I was able, suddenly very, very tired of dragons and destinies. If I survived this, if I lived through everything that was to come, I was going to give the star dragon a piece of my mind the next time I saw him.

Dragons sucked. I could

n’t believe I used to be so enchanted by them.

Fuck them. Fuck them all.

The two behind us were pulling their way through the cave, if the sound of claws on ice gave any indication. Snow began to swirl around us, carried into the cave by a brisk wind. I could see the plateau ahead of us, and I—

The only warning I had was the whisper of wings before claws curled into my pack, lifting me off the ground. I cried out as the strap dug into my right shoulder, the flare of pain bursting across my body. My feet left the ground, and only a second later, we burst onto the plateau, the snow falling heavier than it’d been when we’d gone into the cave. It stung my cheeks as I struggled against the straps, trying to get myself loose.

My injured shoulder slid free, the pain making me dizzy and nauseous as my arm flopped uselessly at my side. I started to fall, and I reached up with my good arm and snagged the bottom of the pack, holding on as the dragon flew low across the plateau. I couldn’t see what was happening with Randall and the other dragon, but I didn’t have time to think about that now. I had to believe that he was fine, that they wouldn’t hurt him.

But they apparently had no problems trying to hurt me, as the dragon flew toward the edge of the plateau, where the small footpath wound up the side of the mountain on a sheer rock face.

I really, really didn’t want to fall to my death.

But I really, really didn’t want to let it take my pack either.

Magic didn’t affect dragons. Not like it did most other creatures. Their blood was magic, and it acted as a counter to almost anything one could throw at it.

But Kevin had been hurt, hadn’t he? That ragged hole in the wing had shown that. Maybe it’d been a lucky shot. Maybe he had already been weakened in that exact spot.

Or maybe dragon wings were the thinnest part of the dragon, skin stretched out until it was almost translucent, the membranes thin.

I didn’t want to hurt it.

But apparently being an adorable twink wasn’t enough for these lesbians.

Which. You know.

Rude.

The ground rose beneath me, cresting on a small incline as the dragon flew toward the edge of the plateau.

Now or never.

There was green. And there was gold.

It felt good.

It felt like home.

The air around me felt ozone sharp, like a storm was approaching.

The scars on my chest burned.

But before I could call the lightning out to do something that would look totally cool and make Randall say, “Gosh, Sam, you are the best wizard I’ve ever seen,” the dragon curled its head down until it was right in front of me, staring at me upside down while it flew forward. I could feel the heat from its nostrils on my legs.

“What are you doing?” it (she) asked me, the feathers around her head snapping back and forth.

I improvised. “You have something in your eye.” Then I used my legs to rock my body back before swinging forward and kicking the dragon right in her bright blue eye.

“Ow!” she shrieked, and her grip slipped. The pack slid from her claws, and I held on to it as I fell toward the ground. I twisted my body to avoid landing on my bad shoulder. I had a bit of luck on my side, as I landed on a snowdrift that wasn’t hiding a jagged rock that would have broken my fall (and my back). I hit the snow and slid through it, losing my pack in the process.

“Why would you do that?” the dragon shouted at me as she flew up above me, flapping her wings and rubbing her eye. “That was completely uncalled for!”

I pushed myself up from the snow, grinding my teeth against the pain in my shoulder. My pack had broken open, strewing the contents along a small section of the plateau. I heard the crunching of snow and saw Randall running toward me, the other dragon chasing after him. But instead of descending upon him, it went for its mate. It was the smaller of the two. I thought it was the cliff dragon, and the one that had carried me out had been the wall dragon.

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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