The Consumption of Magic

by T. J. Klune

  (A warning. All of you will not survive until the end. There will be loss, Sam. And it will burn like nothing has ever burned before. You must remember to keep in the light, even when the dark begins to curl around your feet.)

  (There was a flutter of wings against my palm, the barest of touches.)

  —something, anything to give credence to what he was saying.

  Instead I said, “A wizard has his secrets. You’ve both taught me that.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever seen Randall look more disappointed. He quickly schooled his face back to a blank mask, but the damage was done. I’d already seen it. And I felt awful.

  But not enough to attempt to take the words back.

  “Do you trust me?” Morgan asked.

  “I want to.” I wanted that more than almost anything.

  “I need you to trust that I’m doing what’s best for you.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “No,” he agreed. “You’re not. But you also now bear scars from—”

  “Scars?” Randall asked, eyebrows rising almost to his hairline.

  Morgan didn’t even look regretful when I glared at him.

  “Scars,” Randall repeated. “Would someone care to explain what these scars are?”

  “It’s no big deal,” I hedged. “I—”

  “He’ll find out,” Morgan said quietly. “Sooner or later. It would be in your best interest if it was sooner.”

  I sighed and wondered about mentors not being able to keep their fat mouths shut.

  “I’m waiting,” Randall said.

  “I’m waiting,” I mocked under my breath. Then, louder, “Ugh. Fine. But don’t you get any ideas, you old coot. Just because I’m about to show you my young, nubile body doesn’t give you the right to try and get all up in my bidness.”

  “Somehow, I think I’ll be able to restrain myself,” he said, dry as dust.

  “You say that now,” I muttered. “But then you’ll see my body and fall in love and I’ll have to let you down because even though I don’t mind older men, even I have to draw the line somewhere—”

  “You’re dawdling.”

  I brought my hands to the hem of the shirt I wore, hesitated, then thought fuck it. I pulled it up and over my head. The air in the office was cool against my skin. I tried to look up at Randall, to meet his gaze head-on, but I found it to be an almost impossible task. Instead I looked down and away, trying to resist the urge to cover my chest.

  The lightning-struck scars weren’t something I’d had time to focus on. Everything had moved too quickly after I’d received them. They were still angry and raised and pulled harshly if I moved too much. But I wasn’t the type to be too concerned with marks on my body. Sure, maybe after all was said and done, I’d have a crisis of faith and melt down just a little, wondering if Ryan could ever want me again, given that I was marked. But I doubted that would be an issue. Ryan had scars himself, though they weren’t as extensive as mine. His were more the nicks and marks from a childhood in the slums and the life of a knight. His came from hard work, from doing his job.

  Mine came from battling a dick.

  Okay. Maybe I could be a little insecure about them.

  That was just fucking peachy.

  I was drawn from my thoughts when an ancient finger dragged along them. I yelped as I snapped my head up and took a step back. “No bad-touching,” I growled at Randall. “You have to resist the temptation of flesh before you, you old pervert!”

  Morgan sighed and raised his eyes toward the ceiling.

  “Was this from the dragon?” Randall asked, sounding slightly strained.

  I shook my head slowly. “No. This was Myrin.”

  Randall’s shoulders drooped a little at that. “Was it your own magic? Or his?”

  I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “Mine, maybe. Or both. I don’t know. It… happened rather quickly. He was walking on water and then things were exploding. It led me to using a kickass catchphrase and shocking the hell out of everything. Then I woke up the next day with these bad boys.”

  “He has marked you,” Randall said quietly. “For consumption.”

  I blinked at that. “Come again?”

  “This”—he waved at the scars—“is a sign. Of his intent.”

  “Which is?”

  “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.

  “Oh boy,” Morgan muttered.

  “Knight Commander,” Randall said. “Do you know who I am?”

  Ryan looked confused. “Um. Randall?”

  “That’s right. So maybe check your tone.”

  Ryan blanched at that. “Please don’t make my nipples explode.”

  “Hey!” Morgan said. “He can’t do that. That’s my—oh.” He sighed. “That’s right. That’s not a thing anyone does.”

  “I still can’t believe people still say that,” I said. “Gods, the stories that will be told about me two hundred years from now are going to be amazing.”

  “What does he mean, Sam?” Ryan asked, looking worried. “Where are you going?”

  “Castle Freesias,” I said, feeling grumpy at the thought. “Except I’m going to be transported there by Randall’s sucking hole and you’re going to walk there with the others. And gods, I really need to work on my phrasing. That sounded terrible. Like Randall would suck me up with his—”

  “You’re really not my type,” Randall said. “I like my partners more… well. Not you.”

  I gasped dramatically as I brought my hand to my forehead. “Whatever shall I do? My dream of breaking off a piece of that has just imploded. Life will never be the same.”

  Ryan’s jaw tensed, and his lips became a thin slash across his face. “I’m his cornerstone. Do you really think it’s a good idea to separate us?”

  “You tell them, babe.”

  “Not helping.”

  “Positive reinforcement always helps,” I told him. “Don’t lie. You feel good about yourself. It’s what I’m here for.”

  He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased. The sap.

  “It’s not only a good idea,” Randall said, “it’s the only idea. Sam has escalated. It’s time for me to teach him control.”

  “You’re not his mentor,” Ryan said. “Morgan is. Why would you need to teach him anything?”

  Randall cocked his head at Ryan.

  Ryan blanched. “Uh. Why would you need to teach him anything, my lord head wizard Randall. Please don’t melt my face off.”

  “Kiss-ass,” I muttered.

  “I like you,” Randall said. “For now.”

  “Eep,” Ryan said.

  “You’re a knight commander,” I hissed at him. “Find your balls, Foxheart!”

  Ryan squared his shoulders and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked so dashing and immaculate that I gave very serious consideration to taking him right then and there, audience be damned. Somehow I restrained myself.

  He said, “I would have you know that I disagree with this course of action.”

  “Noted,” Randall said. “Overruled.”

  I waited for Ryan’s next devastating attack, either with words or his sword. I didn’t care which.

  (I preferred the sword.)

  But nothing came.

  The silence got a little awkward.

  “That’s it?” I finally demanded. “He’s trying to whisk me away to his sex palace and you tell him you disagree?”

  Sex palace, Randall mouthed at Morgan.

  “What more do you want me to do?” Ryan asked, brow furrowed.

  “Stab the shit out of him!”

  “You do that and I’ll melt your face off,” Randall said.

  “You know how I feel about my face,” Ryan said to me. “I use it for things.”

  “Motherfucker,” I growled. “And for those wondering, I meant that for all three of you.”

  “Is it to help him?” Ryan asked Randall, ignoring my glower.

  Randall glanced at me, and he must have seen something on my face that told him in no way, shape, or form did Ryan need to know about Myrin wanting to eat my magic. Probably not the best move, but if he was going to hear it from anyone, it would be from me. And I didn’t know how I would tell him. “It is.”

  “And you’ll keep him safe?”

  I expected Randall to bristle. Instead, shockingly, he softened the smallest amount. “Always.”

  “And you’re sure I can’t be there?”

  “I think it best that Sam is… without distraction.”

  “Great,” I said. “Please, continue talking about me as if I’m not even here. That’s a good way to go about this. Also, the fact that you’re all trying to make decisions about me like I can’t make them on my own is really endearing all of you to me. Just in case you were wondering.”

  Ryan flinched at that. “I’m worried.”

  “About?” I asked coolly.

  “You.” He took a step toward me. I thought about being an asshole and taking an answering step back, but I couldn’t do that to him. Not when he looked as earnest as he did. And everyone knew that when faced with the Ryan Foxheart Earnest Face (capitalized, so you know it must be true), you stood no chance whatsoever. “This has been a lot for you.”

  “I’m handling it fine, thank you very much.”

  His lips twitched at that, and then he was standing in front of me, hands on my arms, thumbs brushing along my skin. “I know you are. But this would be a lot for anyone, Sam. With everything that’s gone on, Vadoma and the destiny—”

  “I still really hate that word,” I mumbled.

  “—and Myrin, it’s a wonder you’re still standing at all.”

  “You are.”

  He shook his head. “But this isn’t about me. Not directly. And if Randall thinks he can help you, don’t you think you should listen?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What’s your angle on this, Foxheart? Why are you so quick to send me away?”

  He frowned. “I’m not trying to send you away.”

  “You’re certainly not not trying to send me away.”

  “What? What does that even mean—no. I’m not going to let you talk your way out of this, Sam. You do that all the time. If this is what it takes to keep you safe, then you can bet that I’ll agree to it. You’re my priority. Always.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Stop trying to flirt with me when I’m pissed at you!”

  “I’m not trying to flirt with you.” Then, “Is it working?”

  “You dick.”

  “You love me.”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “Lies,” he said, and I wanted to kiss his whole face. “This might be good, Sam.” I didn’t want to kiss his whole face after that.

  “F
or who?”

  He squeezed my arms. “For you. If Randall thinks it’ll help, then you should let him. You didn’t—” He took a deep breath and let it out slow. He chuckled to himself, but it was a rough sound. “You didn’t see yourself. When we found you in Mashallaha after Myrin. I….” He shook his head. “I thought you were… gone.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine. “I can’t go through that again,” he whispered. “If Randall thinks he can help, then you have to let him. If you can’t do it for yourself, then please. Do it for me.”

  “That’s not fair,” I said hoarsely.

  “I know. But there it is.”

  “You’re not trying to send me away so you can get back with Justin, are you?” I asked, laughing even though nothing about it was funny.

  Ryan snorted against my face, which was gross, but I loved him, so I let it go. “Oh no. You’ve found me out. Whatever shall I do?”

  “Hey,” I said. “You should probably not joke and instead reassure me a little here.”

  “I’m not trying to send you away so I can get back with Justin,” Ryan said. “You want to know why?”

  “Why?” I asked, even though I knew what he was going to say. I just needed to hear it aloud again.

  “Because it’s always been you, Sam. I promise. I promise. I promise, because when I look upon these stars, there is nothing I wish for more than you.”

  Myrin had threatened my friends. My family. Ryan. And if Randall was right, Myrin now wanted to fucking eat my magic and make it his own. But even with all of that, even with the weight of everything resting upon my shoulders, I didn’t regret anything that had led me to this moment. To this man standing in front of me. Stone crumbles, but what he and I had was stronger than even that. And no one, not the Darks, not Myrin, no one would take that away from us. I didn’t care about destinies or visions or what the star dragon or the gypsy phuro or the people of Verania thought about me.

  Nothing would take him from me.

  Not magic.

  Not our enemies.

  Not the ravages of time.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 7: Don’t Read This at Work or Church (Because of Butt Sex)

  “EVERYTHING OKAY?” Ryan asked as I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned against it.