The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3)

“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.”

“He mentored me, yes,” Randall said, stroking his beard. “And because of him, I was able to pass the Trials without a cornerstone. I believed him. Until…”

“Until Myrin.” Gods.

He looked away.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said weakly. “Because I’m having a hard time processing all of this.”

“He’s not very quick, is he?” Pat asked.

“Most of the time,” Randall said. “It can be quite frustrating. He also has the tendency to turn objects into phalluses.”

“How uncouth,” Pat sniffed.

“Gwar gurgh blargh,” Kevin said.

“Who’s a big boy?” Leslie asked. “Yes, you’re a big precious boy, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, ignoring all of them. “Did he tell you about me? Did you know about me all this time?”

“No, Sam,” Randall said, his glower softening ever so lightly. “I swear to you that I knew nothing about you until Vadoma. And that is the truth.”