The Lightning-Struck Heart

by T. J. Klune

  “That was… descriptive.” He snuffled my face again.

  “Go away.”

  “And leave you to pout all by yourself? Never.”

  “Don’t be a cunt, Gary.” I winced. “Okay, time out from the fighting. Can we all agree never to use that word? It’s awful and disrespectful and I don’t even know why I said it. I apologize profusely and beg your forgiveness.”

  “Agreed,” Gary said. “I’ll speak for Tiggy, who is currently trying to get Knight Delicious Face to dance. And of course I forgive you.”

  “Good. Rule four hundred ninety-eight of the Sam/Gary/Tiggy friendship is now in effect. No one can say… that word. Time in.” I huffed out an angry breath and looked back down at the bar. “Go the fuck away, Gary. You’re dead to me.”

  “Whiny little git,” he mumbled, but he didn’t move. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? We’re friends, Sam.”

  “Not right now we’re not.”

  “Shut up. I’m being serious right now.”

  “Oh, as long as you’re serious.”

  He reared his head back and narrowed his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. Knock it off.”

  “You made a bard sing a song about Ryan and me called ‘Cheesy Dicks and Candlesticks,’” I reminded him.

  His lips twitched. “Yes. Well. To be fair, I didn’t come up with the title. That was all on him.”

  “You say that like it makes it better!”

  “Doesn’t it? I certainly feel better.”

  And as if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Zal stepped up to the bar, leaning on his elbows and cocking his head at Gary and me. Gary pulled away slightly and rested his chin on my shoulder. I thought about punching his mouth, but was able to hold back. Barely.

  “You,” Zal said to me, “are a conundrum.”

  “You,” I said to him, “are a dick.”

  He grinned. “The things I do for money.”

  “That’s what whores say. The only difference between you and them is they get fucked while you did the fucking.”

  Zal’s gaze flickered to Gary. “Got a bit of a mouth on him, doesn’t he?”

  “Wait until he gets really mad and starts with his nonsensical insults. That’s when you know you’re in trouble.”

  “Hash brown snow packer,” I growled at him.

  “Like that.” Gary sighed.

  “I like the both of you,” Zal said.

  “Joy,” I said. “Unbridled joy.”

  “No, really. I do.” He laughed and shook his head. “When Gary came and told me what you’re doing for love, I was moved. Honestly.”

  “For love?” I said, not squeaking at all. “What love? There’s no love!”

  Zal shrugged. “You know. For the Knight Commander. And the Prince.”

  Ow. My feelings. “Oh. Right. Yes. That love. So much love there. Like… buckets. Of love. And that’s exactly why I’m doing this.” Well, that was a lie. “For their love.” Which was an abomination and a sin against the gods. “There’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” I would have rather been doing anything but. “Which is why I’m doing it.” I was ordered to by the King.

  “Yeah,” Zal said. “That sounded… believable.” He glanced back at Gary. “You weren’t kidding, man.”

  “Right?” Gary said. “Try living with it.”

  “With what?” I asked. “Stop speaking in code. What are you talking about?”

  “Grown-up things,” Gary said. “Shh.”

  “I’ll show you grown-up.” I winced. “Okay, so that may not have been the best way to prove my point.”

  “At least you’re pretty,” Gary said.

  I blushed. “Oh hush, you.” Then, “Wait. Hey.”

  “You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you,” Zal said to Gary.

  “You should see them together,” Gary said. “It’s painful to watch.”

  “Kid, can I give you some advice?” Zal asked.

  “You just sang a song called ‘Cheesy Dicks and Candlesticks,’” I said. “I don’t know that you’re qualified to dispense advice to anyone.”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m a bard. I’m supposed to make up shit like that to keep people entertained. It’s sort of my job.”

  “I wasn’t entertained. You should be fired.”

  “Liar,” Zal said. “You’re going to be singing that song on your deathbed. I made it up in ten minutes. The last stanzas were ad-libbed. You were so impressed.”

  Okay, I sort of was. But not that I had to tell him that.

  “Cheesy dicks and candlesticks,” Gary whispered in my ear. I shoved his face away as he laughed.

  “Still doesn’t explain why—”

  “I don’t know much about the ways of wizards,” Zal said, looking down at his hands. “Or royalty or epic quests or magical beings and adventures to save princes from dragons. I know how to tell those stories, but I’ve never really lived them. I don’t know that I want to. There are those of us that run headlong and feetfirst into danger like it’s nothing. Then there’s those of us that stay behind and document what happens. Or, as I like to think of it, the sane ones.”

  “Nothing difficult was ever won while staying sane,” I said.

  He gave me a quiet smile. “Exactly.”

  “Uh.”

  “You know what I love?”

  “I don’t. But you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”

  “Love,” he said.

  “Gross.”

  He ignored me. Dammit. He’d already found my weakness. “Love is an amazing thing. It can move armies. It can destroy people. It can cause even the mightiest of us to fall to our knees in supplication. It’s terrifying and wonderful, and if you let it, it can be the greatest thing in the world.”

  I was almost in awe. I had to stop myself from sighing dreamily. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  He laughed. “Hardly. I fuck too many people to fall in love. Last night, I had an eleven-way with trapeze artists from a traveling circus. You wouldn’t believe how bendy they were. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much jizz in the space of three hours in my life.”

  We stared at him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Just because I don’t fall in love doesn’t mean I don’t believe in it. I just happen to believe in it more for other people than myself.”

  “You’re my new hero,” Gary said. “I want to be you when I grow up.”

  “But, but,” I sputtered. “You said things about love meaning being on your knees for armies!”

  Zal arched an eyebrow. “Oh boy. I don’t know if that’s quite what I said.”

  “An eleven-way?” I said, sounding scandalized. “That’s so many arms.”

  “I bet you couldn’t even tell where one body ended and another began,” Gary breathed on me.

  “All those writhing bodies,” Zal agreed.

  “Nothing!” I said, because that made sense. “I just want a two-way!”

  “Sam’s a virgin,” Gary said. “The only thing he’s writhed with is his hand.”

  “Gary!”

  “Truth in advertising,” he retorted.

  “I don’t writhe,” I told Zal. “There’s no writhing. Where do everyone’s feet go in an eleven-way? Is there orgy etiquette for feet? Why haven’t I been told about this!”

  “Some people like feet in their face,” Zal said. “Nothing wrong with a little tongue to toe action.”

  “I don’t want my feet sucked,” I told Gary. “I am not into feet sucking.”

  “You don’t even know,” Gary said. “It’s never happened to you yet.”

  I frowned down at my feet. I tried to imagine someone licking my toes and I cringed a bit. Then I thought of Ryan doing it and—

  “Oh no,” I whispered. “I have kinks.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” Zal said. “Kinks are wonderful if they’re carefully and consensually explored. Why, last night I discovered I had a kink for eleven-ways.” He wiggled his finger
s over our shoulders in a slinky wave. Gary and I turned around to see a group of men and women, all with long blond hair, pale skin, and bright eyes, drinking in a corner. They all waved back and half of them giggled.

  “You know,” Zal said, gaze lingering. “If you’re not ready for love, we could make this a twelve-way tonight. They’re only in town until tomorrow. You could invite us to come in.”

  “My room’s not big enough,” I said faintly.

  He grinned. “I meant come in you.”

  “Oh gods,” I wheezed, putting my head on the bar.

  “He’s slightly prudish,” Gary said to Zal. “My sweet, innocent little boy.”

  “He’s made for love,” Zal said, as if he understood completely.

  “Some people are hardwired that way,” Gary said. “Some of us want to get married and have babies, and others of us want to be tied up by a centaur and spanked.”

  I thought about hyperventilating but decided against it.

  “Are you okay?” Zal asked.

  “Nothing!” I said, because it still made sense in my head.

  “I don’t even know how we got to this point,” Gary said. “Again.”

  “You often have conversations about kinks and orgies?” Zal asked.

  “You’re making it worse,” I moaned.

  “Love!” Gary said. “That’s what this was about. Love.”

  “Love,” Zal agreed. “Kid, I’m going to lay it on the line for you.”

  “I can’t take you seriously anymore,” I told him honestly. “I don’t know where your feet have been.”

  Zal pointed behind me back at the trapeze artists. “See the big guy sitting on the end? His name is Oyev. That’s where they’ve been. Can I tell you about love now?”

  “I don’t think that helped like you think it did,” I said.

  “Why don’t you just tell the Knight Commander how you feel?”

  I glared at him. “He’s affianced. To the Prince.” Then, belatedly, “I don’t feel anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Because there’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Really.”

  “Really.”

  “So he’s just going to get married.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s what he wants?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? He’s doing it, right?”

  Zal smiled sadly. “Sometimes we do things for the greater good, even if it causes our hearts to break.”

  “You bother me,” I said to him. “I’m not sure if I’m pleased that you exist.”

  “He watches you, you know,” Zal said and what?

  “No he doesn’t,” I said weakly.

  “All night,” Zal said, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Since the moment you walked in together. He rarely takes his eyes off of you. You might not have been looking, but I was.”

  “It’s always like that,” Gary said.

  “It is not.”

  Zal shrugged. “He’s doing it right now.”

  I told myself not to look. I told myself that Zal was full of crap. I told myself that having hope for something so ridiculous was dangerous because it would crush me when nothing happened.

  I looked anyway.

  Of course I did.

  Across the tavern, Tiggy and Ryan stood among a group of revelers vying for their attention. A man was talking to Ryan, a hand against his bicep.

  But Ryan was looking directly at me.

  And when he saw me looking back, his eyes widened slightly and he dropped his gaze.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said. Because it didn’t. It couldn’t.

  “Stubborn, isn’t he?” Zal said.

  “Painfully so.”

  “The Prince is my duty,” I said. “I’m sworn to protect him. That’s all this is. That’s all this ever was. I allowed him to be taken by the dragon. I should have been faster. Stronger. Better. If I’d done what I was supposed to do, none of this would have happened. Ryan needs me to get Justin back. That’s all this is.”

  “Sometimes, I want to punch him in the mouth,” Gary told Zal.

  Zal stared at me. “He’s like this every day? Maybe he just needs to get laid. Take the edge off. I can talk to Oyev and see if he can help out. Virginity is a sweet thing, but it’s so much better to be destroyed and be sticky.”

  “No Oyev!” I said. “And selling sex as being ‘destroyed and sticky’ is not the best way to go about it.”

  Zal rolled his eyes. “Sorry. It’s slow and gentle and he’ll stare into your eyes and your souls will meld together and the only thing you’ll taste is his sweet breath upon your lips. He’ll whisper in your ear how you are his treasure and when his seed blooms within you, the flower of true love will begin to grow.”

  I didn’t know what it said about me that I kinda got a boner from that. Maybe that I was awesome. Or very, very sad.

  “I will be excellent at boning,” I said. “When I’m ready for it.” Now. Now would be good. I’d be fine with now.

  Zal shook his head. “I think I understand why everyone adores you. You’re a conundrum wrapped in an enigma in a package built of twink.”

  “That’s… remarkably astute,” Gary said.

  “I am not a twink!”

  “Shrieked the twink,” Gary whispered.

  “I think I’m pretty much done. With the both of you. Good day!” I turned from the bar and walked away.

  “Regrets, kid,” Zal called after me. “If you never try, then you’ll only know regret.”

  I thought to avoid Ryan altogether, but he saw me and broke away from the guy who was still holding on to his bicep and met me halfway. People danced around us as the music swelled.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Ugh. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Who do I need to kill?”

  I tried not to grin. I failed. “No one. Everyone. I don’t know.”

  “That clears it up. Good job.”

  “Sass master.”

  “I thought I was the God of Sass?” he asked. “It sounds like I was demoted.”

  It was easy, this. Banter. I could do banter. So, like a tool, I said, “I got invited to a twelve-way orgy with a team of trapeze artists and the guy that sang about cheesy dicks.” Shit. “Wait. That wasn’t banter. I meant for that to be banter.”

  He scowled, eyes darting over my shoulder where Gary and Zal still stood at the bar. “You’re going to an orgy?”

  “What? No! I don’t want to be destroyed and sticky and have my feet sucked on.”

  His nose wrinkled up. “You… what?”

  “That’s what happens at orgies,” I explained, because it didn’t sound like he knew. I felt overwhelmingly relieved at that. “You don’t know where to put your feet, so they go into Oyev’s mouth.”

  “Are you drunk again?” he asked.

  “Only a little bit,” I assured him. “And now I realize that I’ve been drunk a lot around you, but I promise I don’t have a drinking problem. Mostly. And I’m not drunk enough to go to an orgy. Apparently I want someone’s seed to bloom in me and make flowers turn into treasure. Or something. I don’t know. I might be drunk. Let’s banter.”

  “I don’t think you have the capacity to do anything but have words fall out of your mouth right now,” he said, a small smile on his face. Like he was amused. Like I amused him.

  “I don’t want to have regrets,” I blurted out. I took a step back.

  He took an answering step forward. “And what do you regret?”

  “Ignore me. I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “But you did.”

  I took another step back. “Wine loosens lips. Not that I need it.”

  Another step forward. “Maybe,” he said. “But for all that you talk, it’s superficial.”

  I scowled at him. “Nice word usage. You dick.”

  He shrugged. “I have a shield. It’s made of metal.”

  “Fun.”

  “Yours is made of wor
ds.”

  “Oh. Oh. I see what you did there.”

  “Pretty cool, right?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Dude. Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

  “I’m pretty sure it would take a group of people far more qualified than I years to even remotely come close to being able to analyze you. Dude.”

  “That… sounded like you insulted me with a compliment.”

  “I feel like a lot of your life is insults through compliments.”

  “Why does no one else see this?” I asked without meaning to.

  “What?”

  “You. This. I don’t understand. The King said you don’t smile.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “But here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  “Smiling.” And he was. And it was wonderful.

  “Would you rather I not?” he asked as his knee bumped into mine and when exactly had he gotten so close?

  “I don’t get you.” I frowned.

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “Succinct.” There was laughter in his voice.

  “You’re a knight.”

  “You’re observant.”

  Suddenly it felt very important that he understand this. “The King said you don’t smile. You’re a knight. People say you’re stoic and ruthless and hardworking and brave. You’re supposed to be. That’s what a knight is. But you’re also kind and ridiculous and a complete and utter dork and I see you smile all the time. I don’t understand.”

  The music slowed around us into something surprisingly sweet. The cheerful voices and the raucous laughter died down as men and woman joined together and swayed along the dusty, wooden floor. I was suddenly very out of my depth and thought that running away was possibly the best idea I’d ever had.

  And I almost made it. I really did.

  But before I could turn completely, Ryan grabbed my hand and said, “We should dance.”

  “Should we?” There was more in that question than just those two words.

  And of course he squeezed my hand and my magic rolled under my skin, and I swore I could almost hear it speaking. It was saying yes and yes and yes.

  He said, “Sam, it’s just a dance.”

  I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him it would never be just a dance. What a cornerstone meant to a wizard and how it could never be just a dance. That all of this was a bad idea because out there somewhere was the man he loved being held by a creature that apparently only I could understand. His prince was gone. His hand was in mine. And we were here, far from home, away from most all the people we knew and loved and my magic said yesyesyes.