The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1)

“He’s not doing it on purpose,” Morgan said, running his fingers along Tiggy’s arms to calm the half-giant.

“Well, not too much on purpose,” Randall said. “Sam, are you going to get up, or is this the part of the day where we lie down in the dirt?”

“Dirt time,” I said, waiting for my limbs to stop twitching with residual electricity. “Definitely dirt time.”

We were out at the sparring fields. The early morning fog was burning away with the rising sun. The Eighth Battalion was due out here in a bit to go through their exercises. Morgan told me that Ryan had delegated the training to another knight as apparently his sole focus needed to be on the wedding. Since that didn’t sound like Ryan at all, I figured Justin must have had something to do with it. Ryan wasn’t the type to delegate. He was dashing and immaculate, after all. I couldn’t see him stepping down from his duties as Knight Commander now that he was finally back in the position.

Still, it made things easier, knowing I’d be able to avoid him yet again. In the week since we’d been back, I’d seen him once, briefly. I was in the gardens with my mother and he was moving toward the throne room and our eyes caught, stuttered. Held. I was the first to look away, resolutely so. When I looked back, he was gone.

It was better this way.

That and the fact that Randall hadn’t left me alone even for a godsdamn minute, insisting that since he’d traveled all this way (and the bastard still wouldn’t tell me how he beat me back to Castle Lockes), we might as well make the most of our time together. Which meant he followed me everywhere, berating me about my lack of focus, demanding that I explain to him the effects of the truth corn, requesting I list, in order, everyone single King’s Wizard for the last thousand years.

In other words, he was being a pain in my ass. But I was so busy fighting the urge to punch him in the face that I didn’t have much time to spare a thought for anything else.

Which is how I found myself woken up at the ass crack of dawn, told to get to the sparring fields immediately, only to be attacked the moment my feet hit the grass.

This was not going to be a good day.

…was the thought I had when I got knocked down for the sixth time.

“Are you sure you redirected the Dark’s magic?” R

andall asked, sounding amused as my appendages continued to spasm. “Because it doesn’t seem like you can redirect much of anything right now.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to do it right away,” I managed to say. “I’m just testing you to see if you still got it and all that. You do. Good job.”

“How kind of you,” Randall said. “To test me. Get up.”

“I would,” I said, “but apparently that much electricity tends to make muscles weak. Who knew?”

“Too bad his words couldn’t actually physically cut someone,” Kevin said to Gary. “His mouth would be his greatest weapon.”

“I don’t know if I want him using his mouth on Randall,” Gary said.

“Oh my gods,” I moaned. “Stop it. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.”

“I’ll have you know I was considered quite the catch in my day,” Randall said. “Did I ever tell you the story of the Morcadi triplets? Terrence, Theresa, and Trevor. All of them wanted a piece of my…”

“Not again,” I muttered.

“…mind because everyone knows the mind is the most attractive organ on the body. However, the triplets didn’t really understand the idea of individualism. When they did something, they did it together. And that included me. Why, I remember this one time, we decided to be sufficiently lubricated…”

“You’re my hero,” Kevin breathed. “Reveal to me your secrets.”

“…on mulberry wine. The four of us held hands as we strolled through town, not caring that we were nude. You see, in those days, people didn’t have problems with nudity. We always let our bobs and bits hang free because it as the natural thing to do.”

“Déjà vu,” I said. “Déjà vu and it’s not any better the second time around.”

“…and it didn’t matter that Mr. McKlusky wouldn’t do anything with his mouth but talk so we had to improvise…”

“I want to be him when I grow up,” Kevin told Gary. “Triplets. Triplets.”

“Not in front of the children,” Gary hissed. “They don’t understand what we do behind closed doors.”

“Or in the middle of the woods where everyone can hear you,” I pointed out, finally able to push myself up.

“…and we never even really thought about whether or not we could bend that way. Unfortunately for Terrence, it turned out he could not and ended up with a sprain in his groin that hurt for days…”