The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3) - Page 168

“Aye,” Pat said. “You as well, wizard. We are well met. You need not fear what we’ll do to the boy.”

“Except if I want to squish him because of how adorable he is,” Leslie said. “You can fear that greatly.”

Randall walked past me, stopping briefly to put his hand on my shoulder. “Sam, I trust that you’ll mind your manners.”

“You can’t leave me,” I hissed at him.

“I can,” he said. “And I shall. Kevin, if you please. Come with me. I do believe I have some delightful greens that should fill your belly. Consider it my thanks for saving us after yet another one of Sam’s disastrous plans.”

“Blar gwargh mlargh,” Kevin drooled as he picked himself slowly off the ground.

“How fascinating,” Randall said as they strode toward the castle.

“Randall,” I whisper-shouted. “Randall.”

Of course, as he was a major dick, he ignored me, continuing on toward the castle, Kevin strolling after him.

“Oh my gods, I hate you both so godsdamn much. Revenge! I will have my revenge!”

“Wizard,” a dragon snarled behind me.

I turned slowly to face them.

Chapter 16: Princess Monsoon Rains and Bilrock the Destroyer

WHEN ONE is faced with lesbian feather dragons who have threatened to eat one’s penis and/or squish one’s face, one tends to freeze a little and to be unsure of how to proceed.

And it’s not made easier when, instead of speaking, said lesbian feather dragons just stare.

If there was one thing I didn’t like, it was awkward silences.

I tended to fill them, vomiting words until it was either less awkward or even more so. I didn’t mind which, just as long as it wasn’t silent any longer.

I also didn’t like being stared at like I was a tiny little bug deserving of being squashed (Pat) or like I needed to be scooped up and squeezed until my innards spilled out at either end (Leslie).

But I was good. The silence lasted longer than it usually did.

So, twenty-seven seconds had passed before I said, “So.”

The only other sound was the dragons breathing.

“Yeah,” I said. “I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. Can we start again?”

They didn’t say anything. Which was neat.

“Great!” I said, sweating profusely. “This is just great. Anyway, I’m Sam. Sam of Wilds. Maybe you’ve heard of me?” I blanched. “Not to presume that you would have heard about me. I’m not that big of a deal. My ego isn’t this massive thing in which I assume that no

matter where I am, everyone has to know who I am. Wait. But you do have to know who I am. Because of the whole destiny thing. And also because I’ve already told you my name before. Wow. This must be kind of embarrassing for you. But that’s okay! It’s no big deal. We’ll just let bygones be bygones. I mean, after all, I came into your lair where your hoard probably was, and you tried to kill me, so I think we’re probably all squared away now, right?”

“Why is it talking so much?” Leslie whispered to Pat. “And do humans always sweat so profusely? I should think I don’t want to squish him if he is going leak all over me. You know how I feel about things that leak.”

“Ha!” I blurted. “Lesbian jokes. I get it!”

They stared at me.

“Oh,” I said, eyes wide. “Not… a lesbian… joke? Wow. Now I wish I had been born without a mouth. And that was really rude of me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be making lesbian jokes, especially since we don’t have that kind of friendship. Or any friendship, really. We’re not friends. You’re just two large dragons who are staring at me strangely. And here I am, just a wizard, standing in front of some dragons, asking them to tolerate him.”

Pat leaned forward, eyes narrowed to slits. “You talk too much.”

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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