The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3)

I let it go.

I OPENED my eyes.

I stood in the middle of a grassy field.

The stars were like ice in the night sky.

Two feathered dragons slept peacefully around me. Their breaths were slow and even.

David’s Dragon shone above.

He said, “You continue to impress me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because that brings me so much joy.”

“I should hope it does.”

“Apparently stars don’t understand sarcasm.”

“Oh, I believe we do. We get enough of it from you.”

Which, okay. Fair point. “He said I wasn’t ready.”

“Are you?”

“That’s not annoying or anything.”

“What?”

“Answering a question with a question.”

“I wasn’t aware you asked a question.”

I scowled up at the stars. “Am I ready?”

“Are you? Oh, I see what you mean now.” The constellation shifted. “My bad.”

“You’re the worst god ever.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew that many to make the comparison.”

“Bag of assholes,” I muttered. “I’m ready.”

“Are you?”

“You dick. I got four of them. What’s one more?”

“Careful, Sam of Wilds. You cannot gauge future success by past triumphs.”

“Of course you can,” I said. “That’s kind of how it works.”

“Mistakes can still be made.”

“I won’t,” I said, suddenly confident. “I’ve gotten this far. It’s only one more. I can do this.” I grinned rakishly up at the star dragon. “I’m Sam of Wilds.”

“That’s what concerns me. Wizard, you would do well to remember that the higher you are, the farther you have to fall.”

“I won’t,” I said. “You’ll see. I’ve got this. And then I’ll be ready. For him. For the end.”