The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3)

Who the fuck had a walking stick and actually used it?

Randall did.

I’d scoffed at him while inwardly wondering if I was doomed.

“Maybe we should take a break,” I said. “Have some jerky or something. While sitting down. And not moving.”

“We still have a ways to go,” Randall said. “It’s best to keep going for now so we don’t get stuck in an open place like this should there be a storm.”

“What’s ‘a ways’?”

“Oh,” he said cheerfully, “hours.”

“I like my idea so much better,” I muttered.

“Of course you would. Most narcissists do.”

“You know what? I don’t even care that you just insulted me. My thighs are quivering, and I am coming to the realization that climbing mountains is the absolute worst.”

“What is it with you and thighs?”

“Gross. Stop talking dirty to me. You know I don’t like you like that.”

Yeah, I deserved it when he smacked me on the top of the head with his walking stick.

IT WAS late morning when we stopped for the second time in an alcove of sorts. A rocky shelf stuck out of the side of the mountain over us, and while it wasn’t warm, it was a respite from the wind.

I collapsed face-first in the snow, my pack digging into my back. “Just leave me here,” I said, voice muffled. “This is a good place for me to die. I don’t even care. Those mountain climbers can find me instead and wonder what religious purposes my booty served.”

“I would have no problem with that,” he said, taking a seat on a boulder near the back of the alcove. “But I am sure someone would say something. The people who care for you tend to be a bit….”

“Protective?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

“I was going to say loud.”

“Ah. That works too.”

“It often does with you.”

“I’m so tired, I can’t even think of a devastating retort.”

“Oh, blessed be. Maybe stop talking for a little while, then. Rest your mouth and my ears.”

I did. For a good three minutes. “So.”

He sighed the most put-upon sigh I’d ever heard.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t been expecting that, if the look he gave me meant anything. “For?”

I pushed myself up until I could move next to the boulder where he sat. I leaned against the back wall, setting my pack on the ground beside me. I brought my knees up to my chest. “For what I said. You know. Before.”

“You said many things that you should apologize for. Be specific.”

I bit my tongue against the sass that threatened to spill. Once I was sure it had passed, I said, “I’m talking about how I upset you when I asked why you didn’t have a wizarding name like everyone else.”

He stiffened but made no move to throw me off the side of the mountain, so that was a start. We sat in an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on for days. Just when I was about to literally say anything (and probably make things that much worse), Randall surprised me by speaking first.