The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3)

He tapped the side of his head. “It starts here. With thought and decision.” Then he lowered his hand and tapped his chest, right over his heart. “But it’s controlled here. Because the heart controls emotion.”

“Actually, medical science has shown that the brain also controls emotion—”

“I’m trying to make a point.”

“Oh. Right. Metaphors. I know what those are. Do you? What’s a metaphor?”

“They’re—”

“To keep cows in,” I said, bursting out laughing. “Get it? ‘What’s a metaphor’ sounds like ‘what’s a meadow for’? It’s for cows.” I wiped my eyes. “I love smart humor.”

Morgan of Shadows stared at me wordlessly.

“It’s okay if you need me to explain it,” I told him. “Sometimes my jokes go over everyone’s heads. Actually, they pretty much do all the time. See, it’s called a pun, and everyone knows puns are the highest form of—”

“I know what a pun is. And meadows. And metaphors.”

“Oh. Right. I suppose you would. Because you’re the King’s Wizard. You’re supposed to know that kind of stuff so you can entertain the King when called upon to do so.”

“That might have something to do with it,” he said wryly. “But that’s not what I meant. Sam, magic is a thing of the head and the heart. It can be controlled by careful thought, by meticulous planning. Or it can be unleashed in a state of heightened emotion. Like fear when being chased into an alley by a group of older boys.”

I glared at him. “I wasn’t afraid. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” I shook my head furiously. “I’m brave. I promise.”

“I believe you,” he said, a small smile on his face. “Do you think I’m brave?”

“Yeah,” I said, because of course he was. He was Morgan of Shadows. “Like, the bravest, even. I don’t know if there is anyone braver than you. Well, my dad is, because he’s awesome like that. But other than that, dude, so brave.”

“But even I get scared sometimes.”

“You do?” I asked, incredulous. “Of what?”

“Spiders.”

“Oh yeah,” I agreed. “That’s a good one. Spiders are gross. All those legs and eyes and they lay eggs in your ears while you’re asleep if you disobey your parents. My mom told me that.”

“Jesters.”

“Right? What are they even doing? Do they need to wear face makeup like that? They’re already freaky enough when they cackle and stuff. I got you, dude. Same page.”

He was quieter when he said, “Losing the ones I care about.”

I nodded solemnly. “Like your mom and dad?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I get scared of that too. Sometimes. They’re all I got, you know? And people in the slums, they don’t… they don’t always live so long. What would happen to me if they… if they….” I couldn’t even bear to finish the thought. I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Nothing will happen to them,” Morgan said. “I know it.”

“How do you know?”