The Consumption of Magic

by T. J. Klune

  “Oh cannot I?” Gary asked. Then, “Wait. You should have said that I can’t understand your reasons. That way, I could have said oh can’t I? It would have sounded a lot better.”

  “Sorry,” I said, turning back around. “I’m not used to being overly dramatic about everything.”

  “Another lie,” Tiggy said.

  Gary gasped. “He’s right. You’re overdramatic about everything! I feel like I don’t even know you at all!”

  “Stranger Sam,” Tiggy said morosely. “Capitalized too, motherfucker.”

  “The life of a wizard is a lonely one,” I said plaintively. “One whose path is rife with the dangers and mysteries of my profession. You can’t possibly understand the weight that I find myself under.”

  “Oh can’t I?” Gary snapped. “That was a much better setup, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “We’re getting better at this.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “Hold on. I want to stand in front of the fireplace for a more dramatic effect for my next bout of epicness.”

  “I want epicness,” Tiggy said with a pout.

  “Hmm,” Gary said, looking around. “Oh! Tiggy, see that completely disgusting painting on the wall? Your epicness shall come from ripping it off its moorings and then smashing it over your knee. That might even be the most epic of all.”

  “Yay!” Tiggy said as he skipped over toward the painting.

  “I painted that the last time I was here,” I pointed out.

  “I know,” Gary said. “It’s atrocious. How do I look?” He posed in front of the roaring fire, chest sticking out, one leg bent up in front of him.

  “Badass,” I said, because it was the truth.

  “Awesome,” he breathed. “This is going to be great. Okay. Places, everyone.”

  I made myself look pensive and forlorn.

  Gary made himself look as if he were filled to the brim with furious indignation.

  Tiggy was ready to smash.

  “Everyone ready?” Gary asked. “Good. I’ll go first.” He coughed. “Me me me memememe. Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather.” He coughed again. “Okay! And action.” He flipped his mane beautifully. “And now,” he growled, “we stand here with all your secrets exposed. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “There are more forces at work here than you could possibly imagine,” I said, staring off into the distance as if contemplating the road I still had yet to travel. “Forces you couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “GWAAAAH!” Tiggy roared, ripping the painting off the wall. He smashed it over his knee, the frame splintering as the canvas split.

  “Do you see!” Gary shrieked. “This is what your decisions have wrought. That painting has been destroyed, much as you have destroyed my heart.”

  “Why?” Tiggy sobbed, the pieces of the painting falling to the ground around him. “Oh why?”

  “I never wanted this,” I begged. “You have to believe me!”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Gary said, flipping his mane again. The fire snapped and crackled behind him. “How do we know that we can ever trust a word out of your mouth ever again?”

  “Gary,” Tiggy whispered.

  “Yes, Tiggy.”

  “Smash another painting?”

  “Hmm. Would that be overkill? I suppose it would be rather fresh. I mean, who would expect two paintings to be destroyed dramatically? Hmmmm—yes. I will allow it.”

  “Yay!” Tiggy said, skipping over to another painting on the wall.

  “I painted that one too,” I pointed out.

  “I’m aware,” Gary said. “Its blight upon this world must be cleansed.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Sam, when I see it, I want to punch myself in the face with my fist. And in case you didn’t know, I don’t even have hands to make a fist, that’s how much I hate it.”

  “Ow,” I said. “My feelings.”

  “I’m sure. It’s always devastating to find out a hobby you’ve devoted so much time to brings sadness to others. Well, I assume it’s devastating because I’ve never actually experienced that. I’m good at all my hobbies.”

  “GWAAAAHH!” Tiggy shouted, ripping the painting off the wall and smashing that one too.

  “I think this scene has gotten out of hand,” I said.

  “A little,” Gary admitted. “But it was pretty good, if I do say so myself. Also, I should probably move away from the fire, because I think my ass is burning.”

  “Hug now?” Tiggy asked, picking pieces of the painting out of his hair.

  “Hug now,” Gary said.

  And no one said anything as I ran toward them, Tiggy catching both of us as we crashed into him, his big arms holding us close.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered to them.

  “We know,” Gary said gently, pressing his snout against the side of my head. “It’s scary. But no one should have to carry that burden alone, Sam. Especially you. Not when you have us.”

  “No more secrets,” Tiggy said. “Okay?”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Even though everything was shitty right now, even though Ryan wasn’t exactly talking to me, and even though so many things were up in the air, I had these two, and I thought maybe I always would.

  “I missed you guys,” I finally said.

  “We missed you too,” Gary said, giving me a wet, sucking kiss on my ear as Tiggy’s big hand rubbed up and down my back. “Adventuring isn’t the same when you’re not there. Did you know that Justin is a whiny little bitch? In case you didn’t know that, he is.”

  “Ryan doesn’t seem to think so,” I mumbled. “They’re all buddy-buddy now.”

  “Ew,” Gary said. “Your jealousy is stinking up the room. That’s gross. Also, Ryan doesn’t love Justin like that. He loves you.”

  “He’s mad at me right now.”

  “Well yeah. Of course he is. I’m mad at you right now.”

  “You’re also nibbling on my hair.”

  “I can multitask. The point is, Sam, you had to have seen this coming.”

  I shrugged, burying my face in Tiggy’s chest.

  “Well, no matter. Ryan will get over it, then you’ll go back to being really all in love, and the rest of us will be disgusted with the both of you, and it will be normal again.”

  “We’re not normal.”

  “I like us,” Tiggy said, squeezing us tightly.

  “I like us too,” Gary said. “But before we forgive Sam completely, I need to ask if there is anything else you’re keeping from us.”

  “No. That was pretty much it.”

  “Hmm,” Gary said. “Okay, I believe you. We’re all best friends again! Tiggy! Hug us harder!”

  My bones creaked at the strength of him. I’d never felt anything so good.

  THEY OFFERED to come with me to see the feathered dragons, but I waved them off, telling them it was best if they got some rest. I didn’t know what the next day would bring, and they’d been on the road for weeks. Tiggy was already snoring by the time I closed the door behind me and made my way out of the castle.

  I didn’t see Ryan, but then I didn’t think I would. He was probably holed up in Justin’s room. I tried not to think about that part.

  The light was beginning to fail as I exited the castle. It had been the longest day in recent memory. My body was sore, and I felt grimy and dirty. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and hide from the world, but I had a job to do.

  Randall and Kevin were with Pat and Leslie, and all eyes were on me as I approached. I tried not to falter in my steps, but I didn’t know how successful I was. Kevin in particular eyed me strangely, and I had the feeling that Randall had filled him in while the rest of us were inside.

  “Sam,” he rumbled. “I hear you’ve been busy.”

  I sighed, tossing a glare at Randall. “Go ahead.”

  He bli
nked at me. “What?”

  “Let me have it.”

  “Oh really—”

  “Not like that. You can yell at me now, if you want. Get it off your chest.”

  “I’d rather get off on your chest—”

  “Kevin.”

  “Fine,” he said, leaning down until his chin was on the snow, his head near me. I felt the heat from his nostrils as he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do it again.”

  “I know.”

  “Good.” He breathed a puff of warm air on me.

  “That’s it?”

  He shrugged. “That’s it.”

  “Oh. Ryan got mad at me, and then I had to act out this whole scene with Tiggy and Gary. I just thought there would be more.”

  “Eh,” Kevin said. “I’m a lover, not a fighter. If you’d prefer, we could resolve this in a manner more befitting a dragon of my disposition.”

  “I’m not going to climb on your junk.”

  “So you say now.” He sighed. “Your mother talk to you?”

  I frowned. “My mom? When did you talk to—”

  “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t confused, champ, when you saw us together again. You know I love Gary very much, but you’ll always be my special little guy. I’m going to make us a family again.”

  “Oh my fucking gods,” I muttered. “That will never not be weird.”

  “Maybe you’ll get to have a little brother or two,” he continued. “Once Gary gets over this trial reconciliation bullshit. I respect his boundaries, but I can only go so long before I need to stick my tongue inside—you know what? You don’t need to hear this right now, sport. The only thing you need to know is that we both love you very much, and nothing is going to change. Except for all the sex I will be having. With your mother. Who is Gary.”

  “Can we please talk about anything else?”

  “Have you been doing your homework?”

  “I take it back,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about anything at all with you.”

  He chuckled deep in his throat.

  I patted his nose as I walked past him, the heat of him warming my chilled skin.

  But before I could move away completely, he whispered, “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  I paused before I turned back toward him.

  His eyes were glittering darkly. “The Dark wizard. The man in shadows. He will not eat your magic, Sam of Wilds. Not while I still draw breath.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I said nothing at all. I nodded slowly at him, and he gave me a wicked smile that contained a great many teeth.

  Randall had been talking. Though I supposed that made everything easier. At the very least, I wouldn’t have to recount everything all over again.

  Randall stood before Pat and Leslie, who were lying in the snow, curled around each other. Their eyes flashed blue as I approached, and a surge of dragon magic rolled through me.

  “Randall of Dragons,” I said, bowing low and slightly mocking.

  “Little shit,” he said, sounding mildly amused. “You’re alive, which is good, I suppose. I thought I heard the faint sounds of destruction from inside the castle. I was truly worried about your safety.”

  “But not enough to intervene?”

  He shrugged. “I’m old. I move slow. By the time I got inside, it would have all been over.”

  “You seemed to move just fine when we were running for our lives.”

  He gave me a deeply wrinkled smile.

  “Tiggy smashed my paintings in their room,” I admitted. “We worked it out. I just wish it hadn’t been at the expense of my art.”

  “Yes,” Randall said. “Your art. The world is a much darker place now that it’s gone.”

  “That’s what I was saying—”

  “I lied. The art was offensive, and I’m glad it’s been destroyed.”

  “Goodbye, any good feelings I might have had left,” I sighed.

  “And the Knight Commander? How did he fare?”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. “He’s mad at me. He’s with the Prince right now.”

  “Ah. I expect it was quite a shock to hear that a god has predicted his death.”

  “No,” I said. “That was Vadoma.”

  The smile widened. “Indeed. I’m glad you’ve seen the difference. No matter the strength of one, a human is not a god. You would do well to remember that.”

  I sighed. “The Great White, Randall? Really?”

  He shrugged. “He and I have… a history.”

  “I would think it’s more than a history if you were named because of him.”

  “I was not named because of him,” Randall said stiffly. “The title came from what was perceived as attributes associated with a dragon: cunning, ferocity, power. My relationship with the Great White was contentious, to say the least.”

  “They said you served him,” I said, nodding toward Pat and Leslie, who remained silent but ever watchful.

  “He was my mentor.”

  I took a step back. “What?”

  “My mentor,” Randall said slowly, as if I was stupid. Which, given the look on my face, probably wasn’t too far off. “Like Morgan is to you. Like I was to Morgan. The Great White was mine.”

  I gaped at him.

  “I do believe you’ve broken him,” Pat said scornfully. “So soft his mind is.”

  “Oh dear,” Leslie said, squinting at me. “I hope that’s not true. I was just beginning to enjoy him.”

  “He’s human,” Pat said. “There is nothing to enjoy about him.”

  “Pat,” Leslie scolded. “Bite your tongue. He’s in the middle of a revelation. You know how tiny their brains are. It’s a lot to process. And they only have one heart. All that blood and only one organ to pump it? Why, it’s no wonder he’s drooling a little.”

  “Wet and sticky,” Pat muttered. “That’s all humans are. If it’s not coming out one end, it’s out the other.”

  “I find I rather like their ends,” Kevin said.

  Pat glared at him.

  “Um,” Kevin said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You are precious,” Leslie said. “Like a little puppy.”

  “Thank… you?”

  “Roll over, little puppy. I think your tummy needs to be rubbed.”

  And wonder of all wonders, Kevin did, the ground shaking beneath our feet.

  But I was still gaping at Randall.

  “Are you finished?” Randall asked irritably. “I don’t know that we have time to deal with how you normally are right now.”

  “But—but—”

  “Sputtering,” Randall said. “That’s just great. Maybe you are broken.”

  “Good puppy,” Leslie said, lifting herself out from underneath Pat. She trudged over to where Kevin lay, his tail twitching. Her wings fluttered briefly as she lifted from the ground and landed on Kevin’s stomach, where she proceeded to knead the soft and vulnerable skin of his underbelly like a cat.

  “I don’t even know what’s happening right now,” I said faintly. “I feel like I’ve ingested a shit-ton of drugs and am tripping my balls off.”

  “I am the happiest I’ve ever been,” Kevin purred.

  “So many drugs,” I breathed.

  “She’s mothering him,” Pat said, managing to sound fond and disgusted all at the same time. “She tends to do that with any creature she can find.”

  “But dragons don’t have mothers,” I said without thinking.

  Pat’s head snapped toward me, teeth bared. “Your point? You think that just because we aren’t born like other creatures that we are not capable of showing care and concern?”

  “No,” I said hastily. “No, of course not.”

  “He tends to move his mouth without the benefit of thought,” Randall said dryly.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You so don’t get to give me shit right now. Not after finding out the Great White was your mentor. How is that even possible? He’s a dragon. You’re a human.�
�

  “Are dragons not magic?” he asked, arching a massive eyebrow.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And are they not capable of teaching others?”

  “But you can’t even talk to them! Only I can do that. How the hell did you learn anything if you couldn’t even speak to the Great White?”

  “I never said I couldn’t speak to dragons,” Randall said.

  I was confused. “But Morgan said he’d never heard of anyone speaking to dragons before. He didn’t even know dragons could speak!”

  “Veranian, yes. The language of men.”

  I squinted at him. “So, you speak… dragon? Like… grr? Snarl? Rawr?”

  “And this is the chosen one,” Pat said. “And that is one of the five dragons.”

  I looked over at Kevin. Leslie was cooing down at him, her claws dimpling his skin. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his right leg was kicking.

  “Curious, isn’t it?” Randall said. “It appears the gods find this whole thing most amusing.”

  “I am so confused,” I moaned. “I don’t know anything about dragons.”

  “I’m different than you are,” Randall said with a put-upon sigh.

  “Yeah, no fucking shit.”

  “Mind your tone, boy.”

  I winced. “My bad, dude. Totally sorry.”

  Pat didn’t look very impressed.

  “Magic is a language all on its own,” Randall said. “When magic is compatible with another, language isn’t much of a barrier. Have you ever felt your magic when it combines with Morgan’s? Have you ever worked at his side without speaking but known what he expected of you?”

  I… had. Come to think of it, there were many occasions where Morgan and I would be in the labs at Castle Lockes and hours would go by without a word spoken. There was always a sense of something between his magic and mine, something that felt like home. I couldn’t quite know what he was thinking—it wasn’t telepathy; his voice wasn’t ever in my head—but it was an awareness of him.

  To a lesser extent, I had the same feeling with Randall.

  And the dragons.

  They were pulses in my head, though it appeared distance muted them, as Zero was the faintest of blips. Not like Kevin and the feathered dragons, who were bright and strong.

  “And so you learned from the Great White,” I said slowly. “He instructed you in magic?” Then I remembered the conversation we’d had before. “He’s the one who told you cornerstones were the folly of men.”