by T. J. Klune
“Whoa,” I breathed. Then I shook my head. “Stop trying to distract me with your evil sorcery! You know my one true weakness is to ride your face. And now you have the beard? My gods, the power you wield could destroy the world!”
I realized then that everyone had gone quiet around us.
I looked at the others.
They had stopped and were staring at me with varying looks of lust and disgust.
“I said that loudly, didn’t I?”
Ryan was bright red. “You practically shouted it.”
“Oh. Wow. My bad, dude. Sometimes I don’t know my own volume, especially when it comes to your face.”
“Or when you come on his face,” Gary said.
“Boom,” Tiggy said, fist/hoof-bumping Gary.
“This is your fault,” I hissed at Ryan.
“My fault? How is this my—”
“You grew that beard, knowing full well that it would make you hotter and that I would find you irresistible to the point where I am starting not to care if we have an audience. You did it on purpose.”
“I had no idea that you would be like this,” Ryan said.
“You liar.”
“And you’ll never prove it.”
I gaped at him. “Sass. My gods, the sass.” I turned and glared at everyone else. “Why are you all still staring? The fate of Verania is in our hands! Do none of you take that seriously?”
The fairies turned away, fluttering off into the trees. Dimitri moved to follow them but stopped when I called his name. He turned, a disturbing smirk on his face, as if he expected it to be an invitation to actually watch me try out Ryan’s beard by riding his face. I felt just terrible at having to disappoint him. Instead I shooed the others ahead of us, telling them we’d bring up the rear, and promptly cut Kevin off before he could make a disgusting remark about that.
Ryan eyed me warily. “What’s this about? What do you need from him?”
And it stung more than I cared to admit that I couldn’t just come out and tell him to trust me, because I didn’t know if he did anymore.
So I smiled weakly at him and said, “I just had some questions about the Great White.”
He nodded stiffly. I thought he was going to lean in and kiss me, but then he seemed to think better of it, and any remnants of the good humor we’d had moments before was gone. I sighed as I watched him trail the others. He didn’t look back, not even once.
“Trouble in paradise?” Dimitri asked me.
“Shut up,” I mumbled.
“It happens. The fire that once burned bright is now in danger of snuffing out completely, no matter how much you feed it. It’s a tragic truth. How sad. I will mourn for the both of you. On a completely unrelated topic, how long is it considered proper before throwing one’s hat into the ring to court another after the demise of their previous relationship? I’m asking for a friend.”
“Oh. I don’t know. I guess it depends on the situation. Is your friend—wait a godsdamn minute.”
“It was worth a shot.”
“I resent everything about you.”
“Spoken like a true ex-boyfriend.”
“We’re not exes—you know what? I’m not even going to get into this with you right now. I’m on a quest, and I am going to save Verania, and I have questions.” I began stomping after the others, sure that Dimitri would follow.
I wasn’t disappointed. He flew at my side, wings flapping furiously. “I’ve told you all I can.”
“Bullshit. You’ve told me nothing.”
“Fairies are an enigmatic bunch.”
“No, fairies are assholes. There’s a major difference.”
“Insulting my entire species probably isn’t the best way to get me to do what you want.”
I bit my tongue at the retort before it spilled forth. He was right, of course. If Morgan and the King could see my diplomacy, they’d be shaking their heads in disappointment in that way that only parental figures could.
I considered trying to flirt with him again, but I couldn’t muster up the strength for such an impossible task, so I said, “Did you know? About Randall.”
“What about Randall?” Dimitri asked, because he was a fucknut.
But I’d played these types of games before, with him and others. If this was how he wanted to go about it, then I would. For now. “That the Great White was his mentor.”
Dimitri was good at many, many things. Even I could admit that. But he wasn’t capable of getting the surprise off his face before I caught it. “He told you?”
“He did.”
“That… was unexpected.”
“Why?”
“Randall forsook his name. Which meant he forsook the one who’d taught him.”
“Randall of Dragons.”
“Yes.”
“Can you blame him?”
Dimitri flew under a low-hanging branch, the leaves on the trees stretching toward him as he passed. “It’s not my job to blame him.”
“He gave up his name because he felt as if he didn’t deserve it anymore.”
“He told you this?”
“No,” I admitted. “But it’s pretty obvious, if you think about it. He felt… guilt. Over Myrin. That he didn’t see what was happening before it was too late. Or if he did see it, he ignored it. I don’t know which it was. I don’t know that it matters. It was too late, regardless. And when all was said and done, after everything he’d sacrificed, what was a name?”
“A name is an identity,” Dimitri said. “It defines you. Mine is the name of my father, and his father before him. I carry the line of my people. You are Sam of Wilds. Without it, you would not be as you are.”
“I haven’t always been Sam of Wilds.”
“And you were not as you are now.”
He was starting to talk in circles, and if I let it continue on much longer, I’d get lost. I didn’t have time for that. Not if we were getting close. “Randall wasn’t insulting his mentor. If anything, he was honoring him by giving back what he felt he hadn’t earned. Even if they weren’t on speaking terms, he must have thought he’d failed him.”
Dimitri snorted. “You speak of honor as if you know what it means. Your cornerstone acts as one who knows the taste of betrayal.”
I refused to rise to the bait. “We’re not talking about him.”
“We’re not?” Dimitri asked. “I thought we were discussing many things.”
“The Great White.”
“That too.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
“I don’t know what concern that is of yours.”
“How do you know where we’re going?”
“We’re in the Dark Woods. This is my domain. I know all that happens here.”
“Like the bird.”
“Like the bird,” Dimitri agreed. “I almost took you then. It was a close thing. You would have been mine, and I would never have let you go.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “I thought that I’d give you time to come to me. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake that day.”
“I dreamed of it. The dragon.”
He made a low humming noise. “He is the oldest living thing in the world. Of course you did. What did he say to you?”
“What makes you think it said anything?”
“Curious,” Dimitri said.
“What is?”
“You. You always have been. From the very first day, you have been this thorn, but not buried in my side. More like you were scraping my skin. Not wholly unpleasant.”
“Did you know him?”
“You’re not speaking of the dragon.”
“No. But how did you know?”
“You call the Great White it, like he’s a thing, this unnamed thing that you haven’t begun to accept.”
“It’s not my god.”
“He never asked to be. He just is. But yes, to answer your
question, I knew Myrin.”
“Did you know that all of this would happen?”
Dimitri laughed. “I didn’t have all the pieces. I warned Randall the day he and Morgan set the seal. I told him that all things came full circle. That the mistakes of the past have a tendency to become the problems of the future, especially if they aren’t corrected as they should have been. No, Sam. I didn’t know that all of this would happen exactly as it has. I didn’t know about you, though I could understand your importance. The gods do not speak to me. I am but the caretaker of the forest.”
“You told him to kill Myrin?”
He looked at me sharply. “I never said that.”
“You said corrected.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I do not advocate death. I breathe life.”
“If he’d killed him, we wouldn’t be here.”
“The path would have gone in a different direction,” Dimitri agreed. “But here we are, and I think this is where we’re meant to be. The actions that have led to this moment are as much yours as they are theirs. This is your history, Sam of Wilds. You carry the weight of their past because it has been placed upon you. Their mistakes have become your future.”
“That… sucks.”
“Indeed it does,” Dimitri said, and he sounded far too happy at the prospect. “The last time I saw the Great White was the day the seal was locked.”
I stopped. Dimitri turned to look back at me, eyebrow arched. “It was there?” I asked dumbly. “Randall never—”
“Randall didn’t know.”
“But you did.”
“It is my forest. I know all that happens here.”
“Then why do you allow the Darks to—”
“We’re not speaking about them,” Dimitri snapped. “We’re speaking about the dragon. My patience is being tested, Sam of Wilds. Ask your question before I decide this conversation is no longer necessary.”
“I stood in front of him,” I said slowly, choosing each word carefully. “At first I thought he was a mountain.”
Dimitri waited.
“With the other dragons, I felt them. In my head. Like they were little pieces of me. With him it was… different. Like he was everything.”
The forest was loud around us, the birds calling, the trees swaying.
“He did speak,” I admitted. “He told me that he had awoken.”
“There was more.”
You are not ready.
“There was,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve gotten four of Verania’s dragons behind me. He is just one more. My question to you, Dimitri: Will he listen?”
Dimitri smiled a terrible smile, like he knew I was full of shit. “He will test you. Like you’ve never been tested before. He will judge your worthiness. And if he finds it lacking, you will fail. I don’t think I need to explain what would happen then.”
And I was cocky, sure of myself. I’d gotten four dragons. I’d been tested. I could do it again. I had to do it again. There was no other option. “I won’t fail.”
Dimitri watched me for a moment. I struggled not to squirm. Then, “He will listen. But the real question is, will you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to—”
“We’re here.”
I blinked. “What?”
That terrible smile widened. “We’re here.”
THE OTHERS had stopped ahead in a clearing. I burst through the tree line and almost tripped over Kevin’s tail into Tiggy’s back but was able to catch myself before I stumbled. “What’s going on?” I asked, walking around Gary to stand next to Ryan. His sword was drawn, his face pinched.
“They just stopped here,” Justin said, pointing at the fairies. “Wouldn’t let us go any further. We thought they were waiting for you.”
The fairies had formed a wall of sorts in the middle of the clearing. They were hovering in midair like a cloud of buzzing bees. They faced away from us, staring off to the other side of the clearing into the deep woods. The trees were bigger on the other side, and thicker. The forest behind us was bright and cheery. The forest ahead looked dark and ominous. The difference was startling to see.
It didn’t help that there was a wide creek running in front of us that led toward the edge of the clearing to our left, which ended in a cliff that the water fell over. I didn’t know how high it was, but by the sound of the waterfall, it seemed to be a long drop.
Dimitri flew past us and joined the cloud of fairies in the middle of the clearing. I heard him speak in a low voice, but I couldn’t make out his words over the sound of the water.
“He tell you anything?” Ryan asked me.
I shook my head. “Not really. Nothing I didn’t know already. Vague bullshit. The usual. I really hate fairies. And gods. And grandmas. For once I would like it if someone came to me and said, Hey, Sam. This is exactly what you need to do, step by step. You’re welcome.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Ryan said with a tight smile.
“Um, we’re not having fun,” Gary said. “In case you couldn’t tell, my mane is wet and flat, no one has picked my hooves out in at least a full day, and I’m pretty sure if I have to shit in the woods one more time, I’m going to massacre everyone without caring how much I might love them. Except for Tiggy, of course, because he is my most favorite thing ever.”
“Holla, bitches,” Tiggy said.
No one could argue with Gary, because Tiggy was pretty much everyone’s favorite.
“He said we’re here,” I told them. “But I don’t see anything.”
“Your eyes aren’t glowing,” Gary said. “Not like with Zero. Maybe we’re in the wrong spot. Or he’s on the other side of the river. Which, you know, is just great, because how are we going to get across?”
“Do you hear him?” Ryan asked. “You know, in your head?”
I frowned at him. “That makes me sound like I’m crazy.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You’re the one who hears dragon voices when none of the rest of us can.”
“Fair point. No voices in my head. Kevin?”
The dragon shook his head. “I got nothing. Maybe he’s not here.”
“Great!” Gary said, stomping his hooves in the grass. “We should probably just go home, then. Everyone? Everyone! It looks as if today’s event has been canceled. If you could please direct us to the nearest tavern so that I may have a wine or six and sit in front of a fire while someone rubs my thighs—”
“Not it,” Ryan said immediately. “Ha! I got one! I don’t have to rub Gary’s—”
A loud boom echoed throughout the forest.
“Huh,” Gary said, looking down at his hooves as if the answers could be found in the ground under his feet. “That’s not a good sign.”
I took a stumbling step toward the fairies. They immediately scattered and began to spin like a tornado, their wings glistening from the rain. Dimitri was at their center, and he looked back toward me.
“What is it?” I asked him as Ryan gripped my elbow.
“In the end,” Dimitri said, voice soft and hard to hear, “it is about the choices you make. Never forget that.”
“I don’t understand.”
Another boom burst from the trees. Birds took flight, crying out as they flew away.
“He’s coming,” Dimitri said. “He’s calling for you, Sam of Wilds. This is what your choices have led to. This moment.”
“Sam?” Ryan asked. “What’s going—”
But before he could finish, I was hit by the strongest wave of magic I’d ever felt in my life. I’d felt something similar with Kevin. With Zero. With the feathered dragons. It was wild and strong and threatened to crack me right down the middle, but those times had been nothing compared to this. It was pure magic. There were no voices in my head. No threats, no promises. There was only magic, and I couldn’t breathe.
My back arched as my head tilted back. My skin was cr
awling with it, gold and green and white. There was so much white that I thought it was going to consume everything. My heart thundered in my chest, and my blood was singing, feeling like it was going to burst out from underneath my skin and fall to the earth, getting soaked up into the ground like an offering.
“His eyes,” I heard Justin say. “Do you see his eyes? They’re—”
“Sam,” a voice whispered fiercely in my ear. Arms came around my chest and clutched me tightly. “Sam, I need you to listen to me. Whatever it is, you need to fight it. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. I’m here, okay? I’m here with you, and I need you to fight this.”
I could. I could push against it, force it back. I could fight it so easily.
But I could also let it consume me, and wouldn’t that be the easiest thing of all? To let whatever coursed through me take over completely? I wanted to give in because of the way it made me feel. It promised me things without words. I could have it, if I let it have me. I could make it my own if I just gave it myself. If I just took that last and final step into nothingness, it would give me everything I could ever wish for.
It was a choice.
And for a moment, I considered giving in.
Ryan Foxheart said, “Sam.”
I began to push it away.
Curious, a voice whispered in my head. How curious you are.
The magic slipped from me.
I gasped as I collapsed against Ryan.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded. “Your eyes were—”
“The Great White,” I panted. “It’s coming.”
“I don’t see it,” Kevin said, sounding worried. “If it’s as big as you said it was, shouldn’t we be able to see it?”
The ground began to shift beneath our feet as it was cracked apart by a great roar.
“Well that just fucks up my day,” Gary said as we all looked down in horror. “Like, really fucks up my day.”
“Oh shit,” I breathed.
“He’s coming,” Dimitri singsonged, and I was convinced that I would never hate anything more than I hated Dimitri at that very moment.
“Tiggy!” I snapped as I pushed myself up. “Princely sack of potatoes!”