The Consumption of Magic Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Epigraph

  Prologue: The Man with the Pointy Pink Shoes

  Chapter 1: That’s Not What Bestiality Means, Gary

  I: Meridian City

  Chapter 2: That Time I Got It in the Face in Meridian City

  Chapter 3: Reconciliation and Best Friends 5Eva

  Chapter 4: The Blood in the Veins of Verania

  Chapter 5: Getting Sucked Through a Hole

  Chapter 6: The Break-Up Talk

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

  II: Castle Freeze Your Ass Off

  Chapter 8: Love Letters and Lesbians

  Chapter 9: No More Secrets

  Chapter 10: Randall’s Great Love

  Chapter 11: Throwing Knight Delicious Face Off a Cliff

  Chapter 12: The Mated Northern Dragons

  Chapter 13: Reunited and It Feels So Good

  Chapter 14: The Truth

  Chapter 15: Randall of Dragons is an Asshole

  Chapter 16: Princess Monsoon Rains and Bilrock the Destroyer

  III: The Dark Woods

  Chapter 17: The King of the Dark Woods Fairies (Gonna Go for a Mustache Ride)

  Chapter 18: The Great White

  Chapter 19: The Choice

  IV: City of Lockes

  Chapter 20: Home Again

  Chapter 21: Superfans

  Chapter 22: Sacrifice

  Chapter 23: Stone Crumbles

  Epilogue: A Decision Made

  CODA

  Coming Soon

  More from TJ Klune

  Readers love the Tales From Verania by TJ Klune

  About the Author

  By TJ Klune

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  The Consumption of Magic

  By TJ Klune

  Sequel to A Destiny of Dragons

  Sam of Wilds faced the Dark wizard Myrin and lived to tell the tale. Granted, the battle left him scarred, but things could be a hell of a lot worse.

  It’s not until he reunites with Morgan of Shadows and Randall that he realizes just how much worse things could be.

  Because the scars have meaning and hint at Myrin’s true plans for Sam and the Kingdom of Verania.

  With time running out, Sam and his band of merry misfits—the unicorn Gary, the half-giant Tiggy, Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart, and the dragon known as Kevin—must travel to the snowy mountains in the North and the heart of the Dark Woods to convince the remaining dragons to stand against Myrin. Along the way, Sam learns secrets of the past that will forever change the course of the future.

  A reckoning is coming for Sam of Wilds, and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

  Please don’t ride horses in front of unicorns. It’s cruel, and the unicorn might kill you.

  Prologue: The Man with the Pointy Pink Shoes

  ONCE UPON a time in the Kingdom of Verania, there was a kickass boy born in the slums of the City of Lockes. His parents were hardworking, and at times life could be difficult, but they were alive and had all their teeth. Which was very important.

  That kickass boy was me, and when I was eleven years old, I turned a group of teenage douchebags to stone.

  And then he came, with his black beard and epic pile of hair that stuck out all over the place, with his black robe and pointy pink shoes that were the greatest things I’d ever seen before in the history of ever.

  “I like your shoes,” I told him, because it seemed important that he know.

  “Thank you, little one. I made them out of the tears of a succubus and a lightning-struck tree stump I found under the Winter Moon. I like your face.”

  No one had ever said anything like that to me before, and it made me feel warm and safe and happy. “Thank you, big one. My parents made it when they got married. I was a honeymoon baby, whatever that means.”

  He laughed then, a small sound that I could listen to forever. Maybe it was a bit of a crush. Maybe it was my magic recognizing his, even though I couldn’t have known it at the time. Or maybe it was because I wanted him to be my friend, since I didn’t have many of those. Well, I didn’t have any of those, and I very much wanted this strange man with the pink shoes to be my friend.

  And then—

  “Lord?” I gasped. “You’re a lord?”

  “I suppose I am,” he said, touching the stone tongue of the handsome asshole known as Nox.

  I gaped at him. “You’re Morgan of Shadows!”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Oh, sweet mercy! Please don’t make my nipples explode!”

  And even though I had started that rumor, I somehow found myself believing he could do just that. He didn’t, of course.

  Instead, he asked a question that would change everything. “Did you do this? Turn these boys to stone?”

  I had. I didn’t know it then, but I had.

  And he’d known it too, though he’d acted like he didn’t.

  And he’d known about me too.

  But that would come much, much later.

  For now, I was just a boy from the slums trying to think of ways to get one of the most powerful wizards in the known world to stay for just a little bit longer so he could see that I could be a good friend, if he wanted me to be.

  “Turn them back,” he said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  So I said Malakasham and Flora Bora Slam and Abra Wham, because everyone knew that you had to say magic words until magic happened.

  It wasn’t too far from the truth.

  I was just using the wrong words.

  But as it turned out, I would eventually not need to use words at all.

  “Colors, Sam,” he said quietly. “Do you remember seeing any colors?”

  There had been green, like trees and grass.

  “You found it,” he said, sounding awed. “I can feel it. It’s so… expansive. How have you never…? Can you grab it?”

  It turned out I could.

  And it changed everything.

  It was like thunder rolling in the alley, like a lightning crack. The walls around us shook, the ground rolled beneath my feet, and then the boys were flesh and blood and bone, and Nox was angry.

  “—gonna fucking kick your ass, Sam!” he finished yelling before he squeaked, eyes widening as he saw everyone who now stood with me.

  And then my mother threatened him, and I loved her so.

  And then my father threatened him, because he was the greatest man who had ever lived.

  And then Morgan threatened him, and I thought maybe I had made my very first friend.

  The teenage douchebags fled under the threat to their very lives. Nox was last to leave, and right before he disappeared around the corner—neither of us realizing that our fates were already beginning to intertwine—he glanced back at me over his shoulder. His eyes found mine, and there was something there. But it was gone before I could make heads or tails of it, and so was he.

  It didn’t matter then.

  Because I was eleven.

  And I could do magic.

  “How old are you?” I demanded of Morgan.

  He smiled down at me. “Two hundred and forty-seven years old.”

  “Woooow,” I breathed reverently. “Dude. I knew you were so old.”

  “Our apologies, my lord,” Mom said in that tone of voice that meant I was in a pile of deep shit when we got home. “Sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks.”

  “Hey!” I said, offended. “I always think before I speak. It’s just that the words usually don’t come out like my brain thinks them.”

  “The doctor said he was healthy,” Dad said to Morgan. “We should have go
tten a second opinion.”

  And then Morgan did the darnedest thing for someone so revered. He hunkered down until we were eye level, robes piling around him.

  Mom and Dad gasped.

  Pete, my favorite guard, sighed dramatically behind us, as he was wont to do whenever I was around.

  “Hi,” I said, fingers itching to reach out and tug his beard. I didn’t, only because Dad was drawing a finger pointedly across his throat like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I tried to remember my manners instead. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Morgan looked amused. “And you as well. I am happy that I can finally know your face.”

  “It is a nice face,” I said. “I should know. I own it.” Then I frowned. “What do you mean finally—”

  “I am going to expect great things from you,” he said.

  “You are?”

  “I am,” he said. “But I know you’ll be up to the challenge.”

  “I can do a lot of things,” I told him, wanting to make sure he didn’t leave quite yet. “I can climb trees really good. And… um. Oh! I can read all by myself. Also, I can burp all the lyrics to ‘Dance Under the Starry Sky.’ Do you want to hear it? You might want to stand back, though. I had fish soup for lunch.”

  “Maybe later,” Morgan said, barely grimacing at all. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for all of that soon enough.”

  And I really liked the sound of that.

  THE NEXT day there was a package delivered from the castle, addressed to MR. SAM HAVERSFORD. I was enthralled by it, seeing as how I’d never received a package from anyone.

  “Are you going to open it?” Mom asked me after I’d stared at it for three hours.

  “Don’t rush me,” I said, not looking up from it. “I’m relishing.”

  “Relish away,” she said, ruffling my hair.

  And I did just that for another twenty-seven minutes before I caved and tore into the package.

  Inside was a pair of pointy pink shoes that fit me perfectly and a note with a tight scrawl across it.

  See you soon.

  —M

  SOON MEANT three days later.

  Dinner was finished, and Mom and Dad sat me down for lessons. It was a math night, which I hated more than anything else in the world. Math had been conceived with the sole purpose of vexing me terribly. I didn’t see why I would ever need to find the value of x on both sides of the equation or to multiply fractions. “I’m going to work with Dad in the lumber mill,” I grumbled. “Wood doesn’t need math.”

  “And yet,” Joshua Haversford said, “complaining about it isn’t going to get you out of doing it. Funny how that works.”

  “That’s not funny at all,” I pointed out.

  “I thought it was a little funny,” Rosemary Haversford said, her gypsy accent like musical notes curling around every word.

  “You have to think it’s funny,” I told her. “He’s your husband. It’s, like, the law.”

  “Hear that?” Dad said to Mom. “It’s the law.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll find what it’s like to sleep outside tonight.”

  And there was a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it!” I shouted, pushing my chair back from the table, thanking the gods for the distraction. With any luck, it would be the police asking questions about a murder investigation where I was the sole witness (even though I had never seen anyone murdered), and would take up the rest of math night.

  I threw open the door and, without seeing who it was, said, “I saw the whole thing! He used a fireplace poker and bashed the poor fellow upside the head! I am traumatized, I tell you. Traumatized.”

  “Who did what now?” Morgan of Shadows asked.

  Pete stood next to him, face in his hands.

  A couple of other knights stood behind them, looking bemused.

  “You’re not the police,” I reminded them, in case they didn’t know. “Ignore what I just said.”

  “You should probably ignore a lot of what he says,” Pete muttered.

  “That’s mostly true,” I admitted. “But hey! Hi! Look!” I pointed down at my pink and pointy shoes, beaming up at Morgan. “Did you get the thank-you note my mom forced me to write—I mean, that I wanted to send all on my own?”

  “I did,” Morgan said, a strange look on his face. “I haven’t had a chance yet to answer any of the ninety-seven questions you asked.”

  “That’s okay,” I reassured him. “You can get it back to me by next week. Tuesday at the latest.”

  “Is this… where you live?” he asked.

  “Yeah! With Mom and Dad. I have my own room and everything.” My eyes went wide. “Dude. I just had the best idea ever.”

  “Uh-oh,” Pete said.

  “You should totally come see my room.”

  “Totally?” Morgan asked.

  “Totally,” I agreed.

  “Sam, who’s at the door?” Mom called.

  “Just the King’s Wizard, Pete, and some other scary-looking knights!” I yelled back over my shoulder. “Can I take him to my room and show him my stuff?”

  There was a brief pause and then what sounded like chairs getting knocked over and footsteps running toward us.

  “It’s math night,” I told our visitors. “Sometimes it gets a little wild.”

  Mom and Dad burst from the kitchen, looking wide-eyed and flustered.

  “My l-lord,” Dad stammered.

  “We are honored t-t-to have you,” Mom stuttered.

  “So embarrassing,” I mumbled.

  “Rosemary, Joshua.” Morgan nodded slightly. “Sam here was going to show me his room, if that was okay with you.”

  They gaped at him.

  “They’re totally cool with it,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Honest. And, oh no! Shucks! Since we have guests now, we have to cancel math night! Darn! Of all the rotten luck! Morgan, come on. Hurry, hurry, hurry.” I tugged him until he began to follow me toward my room.

  Behind us, I heard Pete say to my parents, “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  But I didn’t care about that. It was probably boring grown-up stuff anyway. What I did care about was having my friend Morgan in my room. I’d never had a friend over before, and I was unsure what to show him first. Did he want to see the drawings I’d done that Mom said I wasn’t allowed to take out in public because “People just won’t understand your artistry, Sam. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go be sick for reasons unrelated to what you’ve just shown me. And, as a bit of constructive criticism, you may not want to use mayonnaise for paint, as it tends to rot.” Or I could show him my book collection (I had three) or my rock collection (I had three hundred forty-nine) or the—

  I looked back over my shoulder to make sure he had followed me through the doorway after I’d dropped his hand. He was still there, not yet having entered my room. He looked sad for some reason. I glanced around, trying to see if something might have upset him, but my room looked like it always did. It was small, with a little bed in the corner with soft blankets Mom had made for me. A bureau in another corner held my rock collection and the few clothes I had that Mom and Dad fretted over, saying I was growing up too fast. I didn’t see a problem with it. As long as I had something to cover up my privates, I figured I was doing okay. The floor was made of dirt, but the walls were solid, and the roof barely even leaked. I even had a little window above my bed, and at night, if I craned my head just right, I could see the stars above the stone buildings that stood around us.

  All in all, it was a pretty good room. A lot of kids in the slums didn’t have their own room like I did. I was thankful for it.

  And now I had a friend here, and even though he still looked sad, it was something new, something exciting.

  “I have books,” I told him proudly. “And I can read them all myself. Mom said if I’m lucky, I might be able to get another one for All Hallowed Day. And I also have rocks. And a wooden raccoon that my
dad made me. Isn’t that great?”

  Morgan studied me closely. “Do you really think so?”

  I scrunched up my face, unsure of what he meant. “Yes? Yes. I think so. I’ve got it pretty good, you know? Some people don’t get to have all that I do. I’m very lucky.”

  He took a step into the room, and he needed to crouch slightly so his head didn’t hit the ceiling. I thought it was funny because Dad had to do the same thing. It was like they were giants. He trailed his fingers along the walls and scuffed his pointy pink shoes through the dirt. It only took him three or four steps to reach my bed. He stared down at it just for a moment, shoulders slumped. But before I could ask if something was wrong, he turned and sat down on the bed, the end of his beard in his lap.

  “Sam,” he said. “There’s a reason for my visit.”

  “You’re not gonna make me go to the dungeons and poop in buckets, are you?” I asked him suspiciously. “Because you already said you wouldn’t, and it’s the law that you can’t change your mind.”

  “I’m not going to make you go to the dungeons and poop in buckets,” he said. “You have my word.”

  “Whoa,” I whispered. “I have the word of a wizard. I am amazing.”

  “That you are,” he agreed. “Which is part of the reason why I’m here.”

  I squinted up at him. “You’re here because I’m amazing?”

  “Yes.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s always good to have validation. Thank you.”

  He coughed, like he was trying stay serious but needed to cover up a laugh. Pete did that to me all the time. “Sam, what do you know about magic?”

  “I haven’t done any more,” I said quickly. “You made me promise not to try, and I always keep my promises.” I frowned. “Most of the time. And if I can’t keep my promise, I usually have a really good reason for it. Sometimes.”

  He shook his head. “I know you haven’t. I’d be able to— It doesn’t matter, little one. I’m just curious about what you know.”

  That made me feel better. “Oh! Well. Honestly? Not a whole lot. Like… there are magic words. And stuff. And you told me there are colors. Sometimes I see them, but I don’t touch them because you told me not to.” Then an idea hit me. “Can I turn things to turkey legs? Because I swear to the gods, if I can turn things to turkey legs, I would do that all the time. I’m sorry, but I would. I would do it all the time, and then I would eat every single one.”