A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania 2)

“Of course he did,” Ryan said.

“Way to generalize, Tiggy,” I said. “You know it was part of the ritual I needed to perform in order to escape the clutches of my captors who were convinced they could sacrifice me to an evil sprite in the Dark Woods.”

“Of course they did,” Ryan said.

“Riiiiight,” Gary said. “Which is why when Tiggy and I rescued you, you were sitting on the back of one of the bandits, singing about how you could taste colors and that the grass was alive and whispering grassy secrets.”

“Of course you—”

“Ryan! Not helping!”

“I took drugs once,” Kevin said. “At this orgy I went to. Crazy, crazy night. Long story short, it wasn’t actually drugs, and I’d somehow crushed and snorted sixteen sug

ar cubes and then eaten a lot of centaur ass—”

“Excuse me,” Gary trilled. “I could have sworn we were trying to stay on topic.”

“We never stay on topic,” Tiggy said, sounding confused.

“Well, yes,” Gary said. “But we don’t need to hear anything Kevin might say.”

“Oh, here we go.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “One moment we’re happy and jolly, and the next, oh look! Gary has an issue with something. Shocker.”

“I have issues? Oh, do we even need to go over the veritable laundry list that is the psychotic psychosis of the dragon named—”

“You’re not coming with me,” I said.

“Yes, we are,” they all said at the same time.

And that was that.

“HOLY BALLS,” Gary said as we crested the sand dune.

“That’s… not what I expected,” Kevin said.

“No more sand,” Tiggy said, sounding giddy.

“Is that…?” Ryan started, eyes wide as he took in what lay before us.

Rising out of an oasis in the middle of the desert, surrounded by a forest of palm trees, was a city built upon a desert lake that shimmered in the heat of the sun. It looked cool and inviting, but I couldn’t help but feel unease at the sight of it. I knew what waited for us there. I knew what waited just beyond the city in a cave that led underneath the desert.

“Mashallaha,” I said. “The gypsy city.”

“What does it mean?” Ryan asked. “The name.”

“As the gods will,” I said, trying not to focus on that part at all. “Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home.”

“DON’T FORGET your Grimoire,” a voice said behind me. I cursed under my breath, sure I’d come into the labs undetected. Which, in all honesty, was probably my first mistake. Undoubtedly, he had the entire castle warded so he knew who was where at any given time. He’d told me once that of course that was ridiculous, being such an invasion of privacy, but I wasn’t feeling very charitable toward Morgan of Shadows right then.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said airily, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. Mean and petty, sure, but I was more than a little annoyed.

I took my Grimoire down from its place next to his on the shelf. My fingers brushed against the binding on his book, and I felt his magic jolt through me, sweet and familiar. I realized he’d never told me what his Grimoire was bound with, telling me I’d know when the time was right. I wondered what else he’d kept from me. What other secrets he had. Where was Myrin’s Grimoire? Had he even had one?

I pushed the thoughts away. There was still much I had to do and a short time with which to do it. I shoved my Grimoire into my pack and hoisted it on my shoulder. I turned and gave him a nod, trying to keep the surprise off my face to see him by himself, no Randall in sight.

Morgan himself had a carefully blank expression, betraying nothing. I’d seen him with the same look when dealing with unruly heads of state, knowing his countenance didn’t give away just how much of a dumbass he thought they were. Whether or not he was thinking the same thing about me, I didn’t care. I needed to leave. I was angry at him. Very angry. It was deeply unsettling, because I’d never been that way with him before.

I forced myself to meet his gaze before heading for the door. Part of me screamed to turn around, to get everything off my chest, to never say goodbye without actually saying goodbye, but I didn’t. I reached the door. It felt like I was vibrating. I put my hand on the knob. I turned it. The lock clicked and—