A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2)

Gary narrowed his eyes. “And just what do you mean by you people?”

I ignored them. “Anything else we should know about Jekhipe before we go?”

Ruv was watching me with a look on his face that I couldn’t quite place. I didn’t know if my eyes were still doing their weirdness, but I thought they probably were. I didn’t think he was scared, but… wary? Cautious, probably. My little display had probably thrown him for a loop. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. Or what’d he’d say to Vadoma when we returned to Mashallaha.

“Just that he’s dangerous,” Ruv said finally. “A trickster. You cannot underestimate him.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t underestimate anything.”

“Um,” Gary said. “You do it all the time.”

“No one asked you, Gary!”

“Okay, you need to point those freaky eyes at someone else, Miss Thang. I don’t need your creepy hoodoo business all up in my shit.”

“I think they’re hot,” Ryan whispered to me.

“I know,” I said. “But you’re really weird, so.”

“It’s not weird.”

“What they whispering about?” Tiggy asked Gary.

“Probably something disgusting,” Gary said. “Remember when Sam was a virgin? I miss those days.”

“His precious flower,” Tiggy said mournfully.

“Team Sam, move out!” I announced.

Which, of course, everyone protested, because they were lame and wouldn’t know a good team name if it punched them in the throat.

THE RUINS were in far worse condition than they’d appeared from far away. Everything that still stood—the parapets, the battlements, the towers—looked to be on the verge of collapse. Great piles of stones littered the whole of the island. Everything was smooth and bleached, worn down by blowing sand and sun. There were vague shapes in the broken statues—feet here, an arm there. There was a stone hand that held a dagger lying on the ground near the remains of an archway.

The ruins felt dead.

And haunted.

“What was this place?” I asked Ruv, even as the dragon whispered unintelligibly in my head. “I’ve never heard of a castle this far out.”

Ruv stepped over a mound of stone. “The name of the castle has been lost in time. But the gypsy people call it Prikasa.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t even blink when he said, “Bad luck. A dark omen.”

“Of course that’s what it means,” I said. “Because you guys suck.”

He ignored me. “It’s supposed to be older than Verania itself. There was a man, or so it is said, a fierce warrior, who ruled over many lands. He and his army worked their way east, laying siege to everything in sight, taking it for himself. He was blinded by greed and power and the need to own all he could see. By rights, he was very good at what he did. He built himself castles for every new territory he consumed. This was said to be one of them.”

“What happened to him?”

“What happens to all men with great power,” he said. “Someone wanted it more and killed him for it.”

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

I didn’t miss the faint smile. “You are so wise, Sam of Wilds.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”