“These are your friends,” Randall added unnecessarily, because he was an asshole.

“Oh please,” Gary said with a delicate sniff, still somehow maintaining his magnificent pose. “If one of the disasters of your past dared to show their face in my presence, they would be overcome by the glory that is me and flee in shame that they ever tried to look you back up because they’d randomly been thinking about you the other day and wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

“Yes, exactly,” Kevin said, tail twitching like it did when he was starting to get worked up. Someone needed to put a stop to this before it escalated. There were children present. Poor, innocent children who believed unicorns were pure. “I am so glad you agreed to move beyond trial reconciliation to the We’re Back Together stage of our relationship.”

“He capitalized that,” I whispered to Randall. “So you know it’s true.”

“I absolutely do not care.”

“I know,” Gary said to Kevin. “You’re very lucky that I’ve decided to forgive you for your egregious transgressions that I don’t exactly quite remember.”

“It because Kevin put his name first,” Tiggy said, coming out of the barn.

“Et tu, Tiggy!” Kevin hissed.

“Gesundheit,” Tiggy said.

“I don’t have time for your fallacies!” Gary cried. “My horn is here!”

The crowd gasped dramatically.

Kevin brought a clawed hand to his throat. “My word.”

“For true?” Tiggy asked.

“Yes, kitten. For true. Which means someone in this camp has kept it from me and therefore betrayed me! And I will have my revenge.”

As one, the crowd took a step back.

“Oh my gods,” I said to Randall. “He knows we have it and is just being dramatic. You have to hide it. Put it back in the bag! For the love of all that’s holy, Randall, put it back in the fucking bag.”

“Eh,” Randall said. “I’d rather see how this plays out. Catch.”

And then he tossed the horn at me.

My life flashed before my eyes.

I’d had a lot more sex with a hot knight than I thought.

Which, you know. Was pretty awesome.

At least I would have that cold and sticky comfort before I died.

The horn hit me in the chest, and I fumbled with it before I wrapped my hands around it.

Gary’s head snapped in my direction.

His eyes narrowed.

His nostrils flared.

“Sam,” he growled.

“Holy fucking balls of shit!” I squeaked as he began to charge toward me.

But before he could crush me under his considerable weight (something I learned never to say to his face, for fear of castration), another voice snapped, “Gary Matthias Pontificus Esmerelda Juanita Lopez Alabaster Kennedy the Fourth!”

He stopped, dust swirling around him.

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net