“I wish I was too,” he said. “But I also know you’re stronger than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
And who knows what we might have said then. How long we might have sat there, spewing our feelings at each other until we were drowning in sunshine and rainbows and Gary’s cookie poop. When I have an abundance of feelings, I tend to go on for days. It’s a proven fact.
And I tried to work up the courage to tell him about the lightning. About how I’d been able to redirect it through my body and hold it around my heart. How the ceiling to my magic just seemed further and further away, and maybe for the first time, I felt an inkling of fear that there was no ceiling, that it could eventually consume me until I was nothing but a collection of energy with no conduit for release.
I opened my mouth to say something. Anything.
But it was ceremoniously cut short when I saw a stranger talking to Gary, Tiggy, and Ryan. My hand tensed around the crystal as green and gold flickered around the edges of my vision.
Tiggy and Ryan looked relaxed. Carefree.
Gary, though. Gary looked slightly off. He was holding himself stiffly.
“Hey,” I said to Morgan. “Gotta go. There’s someone on the road.”
“Okay. Just watch yourself. I don’t know much about Tarker Mills, and I don’t need you getting captured by Darks or fairies or mermaids or—”
“I get it,” I said, cutting him off. “And it doesn’t happen that often.”
“—or selkies or pissed off traveling merchants or that one guy who pledged a blood vendetta against you—”
“That was not my fault.” It was in my early days of learning to use magic and I’d accidentally set a guy’s hair on fire. I’d put it out before it had caused any damage, but Evil Carl (as he had so named himself) didn’t care. It was an affront to him and he swore vengeance against me and promised one day, I would rue the day I ever heard the name Evil Carl.
Naturally, unable to keep my mouth shut, I told him I was already ruing. That’s when the blood vendetta came into play, blah, blah, blah, and I’d never heard from him again. I rarely thought about it. It was just one of those things that happened to me.
“I get into shenanigans,” I told Morgan.
“So I’ve noticed. We still need to finish our conversation.” I couldn’t tell if that was a warning or a threat. “But it can wait. Find the keep and let me know what you see before you approach. Understood?”
“Yeah, love you, boo,” I said and broke the connection before he could squawk righteously at me as he was wont to do. I stowed the crystal in an inner pocket in my tunic and walked down the Old Road toward Tarker Mills.
Gary, Tiggy, and Ryan looked back at me upon my approach.
“And this is Sam of Wilds,” Gary said. His voice was even, but he still held himself stiffly. “The apprentice to the King’s Wizard.”
The stranger was an older woman. She wore a long flowing dress, green and orange and red. Her hair was gray and braided in a thick ponytail that rested over her shoulder and against her breast. There was a sash of sorts across her chest. No weapons that I could see. She looked sweet and kind, like a grandmother should. Tiggy and Ryan seemed charmed by her. Gary was not.
“It is an honor to meet you, Wizard,” she said, ignoring the apprentice that Gary muttered under his breath. Her voice was calm and serene. I felt myself relaxing just by the few words she spoke. “I am Eloise, the mayor of Tarker Mills. I understand you have traveled far.” She held out her hand and I took it briefly. Her skin was warm and smooth. She dropped my hand a moment later.
“Ma’am,” I said politely. “You’ve got a lot of corn.”
“That we do.” She sounded amused. “We’re the main supplier to the northern region of Verania. The mountains aren’t conducive to such a crop. Tarker Mills has fed many people over the centuries. We’re quite proud of what we do here.”
I was closer to her now. I could see the lines around her eyes and mouth. The pattern on her dress. The intricate design on the sash across her chest, angles and planes that curved into purposed design.
Near the top of the sash, at her shoulder, was the pattern of a dragon stitched in great detail. Black with mottled wings.
Huh.
How about that.
I averted my eyes quickly.
But she was sly, that Eloise.
She said, “Word has spread about your quest.”
“Has it? People tend to talk too much.”