The Consumption of Magic

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The Consumption of Magic Page 19

by T. J. Klune


  “You look super awesome,” I said. “Your scarf makes you look like you aren’t being wind-raped.”

  Gary preened. “It does, doesn’t it? The gods only know there is nothing worse than arriving someplace new, not receiving a compliment, and having wind-rape hair. I am so glad I remembered to pack twenty-seven different scarves. It just wouldn’t do to be caught wearing the same one two days in a row. I mean, could you just imagine the scandal?”

  No, I couldn’t, but I nodded dutifully before turning back to Morgan to give him the ol’ Look-How-Precious-Sam-Is big eyes, sure that I could convince him to turn us right around and go home.

  Unfortunately for me, Morgan proved to be impervious in the face of my awesomeness. It was the bane of my existence. “Keep walking,” he said, sounding amused.

  “Godsdammit,” I muttered under my breath. “You never let me do anything.”

  “Yes, yes. Your life is so hard. Whatever was I thinking.”

  Randall, of course, was waiting for us at the entrance to the castle, like a creeper. His arms were crossed over his chest, and there were flecks of snow in his beard.

  “It’s about time,” he said, ignoring me completely. “Get inside before I leave you out here as a penance for your dillydallying.”

  Dillydallying, I mouthed to Gary, who rolled his eyes.

  “I saw that,” Randall said.

  “Eep,” I said and tried to think about anything but penises.

  I’D BEEN back a handful of times after that as I got older, always at Randall’s request.

  Each time he’d been waiting for me at the entrance.

  This time, though….

  “…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAHHHHHH!” I shrieked as we snapped into existence in front of the legendary Castle Freesias.

  My feet hit the ground, and I stumbled forward.

  And immediately vomited onto the snow.

  We’d eaten mutton the night before.

  It wasn’t the best idea.

  “No offense,” I said, wiping a string of bile from my lips, “but your method of travel really sucks my nuts.”

  “Maybe you should just have a stronger constitution,” Randall pointed out.

  “Great. This is going to be just great.”

  Randall ignored me, which was probably the best way to deal with me. He headed toward the entrance to Castle Freesias, leaving me no choice but to follow.

  The snow was thick on the path that led to the castle. Every step I took, I sank into the snow just up to my knee. It was slow going, but there were shots of blue in the bone-white clouds above, and it wasn’t as cold as I expected it to be. Now if only I could reconcile the present company, I’d be doing just fine.

  Castle Freesias was… old. It was one of the few structures left in Verania that still held legendary status. Castle Lockes was one. I suppose if more people knew of the former castle where Zero currently resided, that would be another. Time hadn’t been kind to a lot of the old ways, the progressive march into the future aggressive and inflexible. We were living in an age of machines where much of my birthright—this magic I contained—was passing more into legend than fact. The days when wizards had been commonplace were rooted firmly in the past. It had been the age of Randall, and partly Morgan. I thought maybe Myrin’s betrayal had been the reason for the downfall even if he’d been erased from the mind of Verania.

  But Castle Freesias had been here a long time. I’d found mentions of it going back centuries but never read anything about a town that might have surrounded it. There was nothing around the castle aside from the mountains and trees and snow, no ruins that could have signaled that this place had once been like the City of Lockes. I didn’t think Randall had made this place. I thought it was before even him.

  It was made entirely of ice, a cold, clear blue that shone brightly in the rare sunlight. It was smaller than Castle Lockes but far more forbidding, especially given its surroundings. Inside were many bedrooms and washrooms, a large kitchen and dining hall. There were labs much like Morgan and I had, and a throne room that was rarely used. There was a library, but I’d never been inside. Certain rooms were… off-limits. Morgan had told me of them before we’d ever stepped foot inside the castle.

  “You mustn’t attempt to gain entry to the library by any means,” Morgan had said one night when the Northern Mountains had just begun to appear on the horizon. Gary and Tiggy were snoring away, and Morgan and I sat on either side of the fire, the flames crackling between us. “Nor any other room that has been sealed.”

  “Why?” I asked, being contrary because I was a sixteen-year-old asshole. “It’s a library, Morgan. You know how I feel about libraries.”

  “I do,” Morgan said with a grimace. “You feel the need to touch everything.”

  “It’s a sickness. I regret nothing.”

  “There are some things that aren’t meant for you,” he said, and I could see by the dire look on his face that this wasn’t to be negotiated. “It’s a great honor to be summoned to Castle Freesias. We must respect the boundaries that Randall sets forth.”

  And I had each time, though my curiosity burned through me, bright and consuming. It made more sense now, given everything I’d learned, but it only made the curiosity an inferno.

  It also made things worse now. Because I could imagine what must be hidden behind those doors and how it related to Myrin. Castle Freesias had always felt haunted. But until now, it’d never felt like a tomb.

  We stopped in front of the entrance, and Randall pressed a hand against the frozen door. A bright light pulsed under his palm, shooting off across the ice in lined patterns, intrinsically complex. There was a deep groan from somewhere inside, and a lock clicked. The lights under Randall’s hand faded, and he pushed it open. The door scraped against the snow and ice, causing a low screech that crawled along my skin. Birds sang in the trees, and there was the briefest of moments when I thought I heard the smallest of whispers at the back of my mind—

  wizard

  —but it was gone before I could latch on to it. I couldn’t feel Kevin. Zero was long gone. I looked over my shoulder, scanning the tree line.

  There was nothing there.

  I still felt watched.

  I hoisted my pack up higher and followed Randall inside.

  “YOUR ROOM is ready for you,” Randall said as we stood in the entryway. The castle looked as it always had, cold and dark and dank. Torches were lit along the wall, but the ice around them never melted. “There’s a fire going in the fireplace. The wardrobe has your clothing from the last time you came. You haven’t grown much, so it should still all fit.”

  “I’ve grown plenty.”

  “If that’s what you must tell yourself. Every morning, we shall meet in the labs promptly at eight. If you do not eat beforehand, that’s your problem, not mine. You will bring your Grimoire and be ready to learn.”

  I cringed at that, seeing as how much I’d neglected it as of late. I’d barely even made entries on the sand mermaids and almost nothing about the desert dragon. Randall was going to find much to fault me with when he looked. Maybe I’d get time to catch up before he saw it.

  “We will break for lunch midday, depending upon where we are with training, for half an hour. We shall have our evening meal together in my study. This will not deviate unless I tell you it will, or if certain circumstances arise.”

  “Certain circumstances?”

  He gave me a bland look. “With you, I find that there is always the potential for certain circumstances.”

  I grinned at him. “You flatter me.”

  “I do nothing of the sort. Trust me, you would know if I had. Do you have any questions on the schedule?”

  “Are we doing this every day—”

  “Good,” he said. “No questions. Today will be a day of rest, as my particular form of travel tends to leave me feeling somewhat depleted. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  His bushy eyeb
rows twitched. “I regret this already.”

  “We could always go back.”

  “Hardly.” Then he took a step toward me, his robes scraping along the ice on the floor. I stood my ground, struggling against the need to take an answering step back. “We have much work to do and much to discuss, you and I. I suggest you use the remainder of today to get your stories straight so that if I require answers, you have them readily available, and only the truth. I will not accept anything less from you, Sam of Wilds.”

  “Then I expect the same in return,” I said, sounding braver than I actually felt. It was one thing to smart off to Randall; it was another to do it alone in Castle Freesias where no one could hear me scream.

  He paused. Then, shockingly, “Fair.”

  “It is?”

  “You aren’t a child anymore, no matter how much you tend to act like one.”

  “Thank you? I think.”

  “I don’t have time for games.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s part of your craggy charm.”

  “I don’t have time for charm.”

  “Back in the day, apparently. Or so you’ve said before.”

  His eyebrows twitched again. “Back in my day, we didn’t have need for charm. We were blunt and honest, and it still got me what I needed. They were the Epperson Twins, and I had just turned ninety-seven. I was young and able to achieve erections at the drop of a hat—”

  “Oh no,” I whispered in abject horror. “What have I done?”

  Because he was old as fuck, I stood there, in the entrance hall of Castle Freeze Your Ass Off, listening in mounting disdain as he recounted yet another story of his youth that was disgustingly and brutally descriptive, and yet again, I found myself knowing more than I ever wanted to about the great wizard Randall.

  Not for the first time, I wondered what had happened after all that. When he’d met the man who would become the love of his life for the first time. The man who would become his cornerstone, and whose cornerstone he had become in return. The man who would end up falling into the dark.

  That was the first moment I began to see Randall for something more than an antagonistic elderly person who held the keys to my future in his hand and a noose around my throat.

  I didn’t like it one bit.

  I DIDN’T see Randall for the rest of the day.

  I put my pack in my room, hearing it thunk weirdly on the ice as I set it on the floor near the large sleigh bed against the wall. I opened it, not knowing what could have made that sound, and saw a square wooden contraption set near the top. Ruv’s sand sailboard. In all the commotion, I’d forgotten that he’d somehow put it in the pack before we left Mashallaha. I didn’t know why he’d given it to me, and wondered what possible use I could have for it.

  But it was soon forgotten when I saw a folded sheet of parchment tied onto the cloth sail with a piece of string. That hadn’t been there before. I would have seen it.

  I plucked it from my pack and unrolled it. A little folded sheet of paper fell from it, but I ignored it as my heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of the familiar tight scrawl that lined the parchment. I didn’t know when he’d had time to write this or hide it in my pack. That devious bastard.

  Sam,

  You probably are wondering when I could have been such a devious bastard to be able to write this or hide this in your pack.

  “Dude,” I said fondly. “You are so awesome.”

  You’re sleeping now, and the light is barely coming above the horizon. I’m sitting at the desk in a gay brothel about to write you a love letter, which is something I never thought I’d ever put down on parchment, but then a majority of the things that happen with you are things I never thought would happen to me.

  “That’s because I make your life amazing,” I chided him softly. “And you watched me sleep? Man, that is so creepy.”

  And no, I’m not watching you sleep, so you can get that out of your head right now.

  “Well played, Knight Delicious Face.” I wiped my eyes before continuing.

  You’re leaving my side in a few hours, and even though I know in my heart it’s the right thing to do, it scares me more than it did when I awoke to the sound of lightning in Mashallaha to find your side of the bed empty. In case you hadn’t noticed, when we’re apart, you tend to get yourself into trouble.

  “That… is sort of true.”

  I need you to listen to me now, okay? Just in case I didn’t say it enough last night or if I don’t say it enough later this morning. Sam, I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to be okay. I need you to stay alive, and healthy, and whole. I cannot lose you. After everything we’ve been through, I cannot lose you. So even though there may be part of you that is reckless, that thinks to yourself that you can do this all on your own, please don’t. Wait for us. Wait for me.

  I know you’ve kept things from me. I know there are things about this whole… destiny thing that you haven’t told me. You’re not as good at keeping secrets as you think you are. I may not know exactly what you’ve hidden from me, but I know it’s there.

  “Well, fuck,” I muttered.

  I know there are bigger things at play than just you and me. And I know there is so much hanging over you right now. But I saw the look on your face, Sam, when you were told of how potentially long your life could be in comparison to my own. To that of Justin and the King. To your parents’. And even though we haven’t had a chance to discuss it like we should, I know how much that hurt you. How much it probably scares you.

  Sam, you are the greatest wizard I know.

  “You only know a couple of wizards,” I said with a sniff.

  I know I only know a couple of wizards, but it wouldn’t matter if I met every single one that ever existed, I would still think the same.

  “Touché. You asshole.”

  And I promise you this: even knowing everything I know now, even with all that has come toward us, if I had to do this all over again, I would choose you. Every time, I would choose you. Life isn’t defined by how long it is. It’s the moments you have while you’re alive. And even if I age and you don’t, or if something were to happen to one of us before the other, I have been filled with so many moments between you and I (don’t make that dirty, I’m trying to be sweet) that I have lived a thousand lifetimes since I was a fucking asshole mothercracking jerk and waited until I was getting married to someone else to tell you how I felt. And I know that I’ve felt this way, in some way shape or form, since that day in the alley, even if all I wanted to do back then was beat the ever-loving shit crap stuffing out of you.

  These are the moments I cherish, because I cherish you.

  Don’t do anything stupid. And get that look off your face I know is there right now because I just said that. I’m being serious. DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID.

  “We might know each other a little too well,” I said with a frown.

  Everything will be all right. I’m coming for you. Even as you read this, I’m coming for you.

  (Don’t make that dirty either. I’m not doing impressions of Kevin.)

  I laughed. It sounded a little hoarse.

  So just hold on a little while longer, okay? Listen to Randall (DON’T MURDER HIM!!!!!). I’ll be by your side again before you know it.

  And after I let you fuck me stupid (and I’m going to leave that as is, because “let you mothercrack me stupid” sounds terrible, and sometimes I really dislike that fact that you won’t let me cuss. I AM A GROWN FUCKING MOTHERCRACKING MAN), you and I are going to have a long talk about everything. All cards on the table, okay?

  Because that’s what it means to be a cornerstone, Sam. I’m not only here to help you build your magic. I am here to help you carry your burdens, to make them my own so that you know that you’re not alone in this.

  So.

  Be good.

  Stay safe.

  I love you.

  Ryan Foxheart.

  PS: Found this in our room before we left C
astle Lockes. Thought you might need a little reminder. Keep it safe, because it’s one of the first times in my life that I allowed myself to hope for something more.

  RF

  At first I thought something was missing. And then I saw the little scrap of paper that had fallen to the floor. My eyes stung as I bent over to pick it up, and even though I’d just parted from him mere hours ago, I felt Ryan’s absence keenly.

  I snagged the paper, picking it up and unfolding it. When I saw what was written on it, I laughed until my sides hurt. Of course he would find this. Of course he would know I’d kept it. And I had, because it was one of my most precious treasures, however odd that might have been.

  On it were thirteen words that meant more to me than most anything else I owned. A corner had ripped—an accident—and the paper had been creased so much that I worried it would one day tear. But today was not that day. I read the words again and again and knew that I would do everything I could to make sure Myrin never took this away from me.

  The thirteen words?

  To Mervin:

  Don’t worry.

  I’m a Sam Girl too.

  Our secret?

  Ryan Foxheart.

  RANDALL LIVED alone in Castle Freesias, and I thought now it was more because he had exiled himself here rather than out of any need for an icy fortress of solitude. I didn’t understand it, necessarily, but the picture I had of the man Randall was coming into more startling clarity. This place was a tomb, but it was a living one, in that Randall haunted the hallways. I’d asked Morgan once what Randall did up here in the mountains all day every day.

  “He exists,” Morgan had said.

 

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