“Morgan of Shadows,” Jeffrey squeaked.
“So it would appear,” Morgan said mildly. “I grew concerned when I realized no one had seen any of you for at least an hour. Which, as we all know, is surely a sign of shenanigans.”
“So many shenanigans,” Gary said. “And I apologize, Morgan, but you know how Sam is.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You know how I—wait a minute.”
“I mean, I tried to tell him that today of all days was not the time to try and go on an adventure,” Gary said. “But do you think he listened to me? Of course not. He just did what he always does. Why, I came along to make sure he didn’t end up hurting himself.”
I was outraged. “That’s not what happened at all! Jeffrey was supposed to be Gary and Kevin’s postwedding booty call! Gary asked me and Tiggy to go with him in case Jeffrey turned out to be, and I quote, a crazy-ass psycho who wants to lick my nuts and then chop them off and use them as earrings.” I frowned. “Which, now that I think about it, is an oddly specific thing that should have made me aware how stupid this was. I should have realized Gary was a fucking motherfucker with terrible ideas.”
“I have the best ideas,” Gary snarled at me. “Tiggy, tell him!”
“No, Tiggy! Tell Gary his ideas are dumb and stupid and that you love me!”
Tiggy looked conflicted. Then he turned to Morgan and said, “Tiggy wanted no part of this. Just minding my business. Getting dressed. Counting brooms. Then Sam and Gary say, Tiggy, you need to do bad things. Tiggy didn’t want to do bad things. But I love them, so I did them.”
“Oh my gods,” I moaned. “Morgan! Free us right this second. I need to squish his face so godsdamn hard!”
Morgan sighed but waved his hand.
The vermilion roots crumbled to dust, and Tiggy was already waiting with open arms as Gary and I charged at him.
Seventeen minutes later (after coming up with three new rules for the Sam/Gary/Tiggy Friendship), we finally stopped hugging and turned back to the others.
Jeffrey was chatting amiably with Morgan, completely unaware of the world of hurt coming his way.
“Morgan,” I said lightly, “you might want to take a step back and to the right.”
He did just that.
“Ooh,” Jeffrey said. “Should I move as well? Are we playing a game?”
“Yes. A game. And no, you can stay right where you are.”
“Okay. Gosh, this is so much fun. Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but Morgan said I could come to the wedding, so—”
“Tiggy!” I bellowed.
“TIGGY SMASH!”
Tiggy ran at Jeffrey, a large fist pulled back, ready to fly.
“Oh my goodness,” Jeffrey whispered.
Have you ever seen an angry half-giant who doesn’t appreciate when his best friends get captured punch a centaur at full speed?
No?
I hadn’t either. But suffice to say, I was not disappointed. I truly did not expect Jeffrey to go flying out of the cave, spinning end over end, legs all akimbo. It was a sight to behold. He went so far, I couldn’t even be sure where he landed. Or if he was alive.
“Well, then,” I said, clapping my hands. “That was exciting. Shall we?”
GARY AND Tiggy were walking ahead of us, Gary purring how big Tiggy’s fists were and how proud he was of the half-giant’s bravery. Tiggy, of course, was preening like a peacock in heat.
Morgan and I trailed behind them as we made our way back to the City of Lockes. Our shoulders bumped as we walked closely together. I’d taken his hand in mine, something I hadn’t really done since I was a kid but found myself doing more and more lately. There were nights I’d wake up gasping, sweat dripping down my face, sure that everything had been a dream, that I was still in the Dark Woods getting slammed by magic from the Great White, Morgan dead. Some mornings had found me curled up next to him in his own bed after I’d snuck in, needing the reassurance that he was really here, that he’d returned just like I’d remembered.
I was getting better.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t still want to hold his hand.
He didn’t seem to mind.
“Maybe next time, wait until a day you’re not getting married to do something like this,” he chided.
I rolled my eyes. “Like I have to worry about that again. Only time I’m getting married, dude. I’ve already got my hooks into Ryan. He’s never going to escape from me, no matter how hard he tries.”
“Ah, young love,” he said, a small smile on his face. “It’s very… intense.”
“Except now he’s probably going to kill me,” I muttered. “You know, for the whole getting kidnapped on our wedding day thing.”
“Eh. If he hasn’t left you for all your other faults, I highly doubt that this will be the thing that pushes him over the edge.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “That was so savage. You are awesome. I mean, I’m emotionally devastated like you wouldn’t believe, but go you. Good job.”
“Thank you,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. “I do find myself rather ignoring my usual hesitance at insulting you directly to your face. I guess a second chance at life will do that to a person.”
“Keep it up,” I said. “As long as it’s not always directed at me, that is. I still like to think I’m a good person sometimes.”
“You are,” he said, squeezing my hand. “The best, really.”
I smiled at the ground.
Much had changed since the Last Battle, as it was starting to be called (capitalized, so you know it’s true). We had mourned those we’d lost (Pete, always my lovely guard) and celebrated their lives. We’d begun to rebuild the villages and towns and cities of Verania. The King had opened the treasury, and thousands of people had come together to restore the shining jewel that was our country. We weren’t quite there yet, but I thought we would be soon.
The Darks had all been taken to Mantok, the prison in the Luri Desert. Vadoma decided she would oversee the transfer, and had somehow been given the position of Warden of Mantok, while simultaneously supervising the rebuilding of Mashallaha. There were calls for the Darks to be put to death for their part in the fall of Verania, but the King decreed there would be no more bloodshed. Instead, Randall, Morgan, and myself had warded the prison against Dark magic. It would be impossible for the Darks to escape.
And the dragons! The dragons of Verania were held in awe and cherished as they should have been. GW, of course, hated the attention, as did Pat. Kevin spent most of the time demanding shinies. Leslie asked to keep all the orphans she could find. Zero scowled at everyone, telling them that they just didn’t understand him, that his soul burned with the fires of regret—but he could rarely finish his rants without them ending in a yawn.
Because his time had been drawing near.
When he needed to sleep.
The dragons and I had gone to the desert with him, returning him to his lair.
We’d sat in the ruins of that forgotten city under an ocean of stars, the six of us, knowing it would be the last time we were all together, at least in this life. For when Zero woke again, I would be nothing but bones and dust. I was okay with that. I thought he was too.
As dawn approached and Zero’s eyes started to droop, the dragons presented me with five gifts.
A red scale.
A black scale.
Two blue feathers.
And a white scale.
I wiped my eyes, knowing just how precious such gifts were. But still, I was confused. “What are these for?”
Zero rolled his eyes. “To bind your Grimoire with.”
“Your material hard-won in the face of adversity,” Pat said.
“Because the adversity you faced challenged you greatly,” Leslie said.
“And you were as brave as we knew you could be,” the Great White said.
“And also because I want you to carry a piece of me forever,” Kevin said. “Every time you pick up your Grimoire, you can stroke my scale and think of me.”
We all turned to look at him slowly.
“What?” he said. “Mine was just as heartfelt as yours!”