The Lightning-Struck Heart (29 page)

“I can protect you easier if I’m closer,” he said.

“Because I need you to protect me. Obviously.” I refused to look over at him and instead looked back up at the night sky.

“I didn’t mean to avoid you.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you admit to the avoiding.”

“Possibly.”

“Were you aware of it?”

“Yes.”

“Then you meant to do it.”

I could hear the scowl in his voice. “Not specifically.”

“So, no specific avoidance, but a vague avoidance.”

“Talking to you is impossible sometimes.”

“I’m a wizard.”

“You say that a lot.”

“It’s a fact.”

“It sounds like an excuse sometimes.”

“Says the Knight Commander.”

Gary chose at that moment to snort in his sleep quite loudly, shooting a puff of green and lavender sparkles out his nose. He resumed snoring annoyingly like the princess unicorn he was. Tiggy tugged him tighter against his chest in his sleep.

“How did you meet them?” Ryan asked. “There are at least thirty different versions of the story.”

“What?”

He shrugged. The fire popped. An owl called out from the Dark Woods. “People talk about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re you.”

“That’s… succinct. And frightening.”

“It’s a reason,” he said. “Trust me on that.”

“Okay, then.”

“So?”

I sighed. “Gary tells it better. Certainly with more… flair. He calls it the ‘Ballad of Sam, Gary, and Tiggy.’ There’s singing involved. And rhyming. Possibly a choreographed dance, depending on his mood. It’s really quite the production. And now that I think about it, that’s probably why there are thirty different versions of the story. He tends to change things up upon repeat performances. Doesn’t want to let down his fans.” Gods, I loved that fucking unicorn.

“I’d rather hear the Sam version,” Ryan said and I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked over at him and found him watching me, head turned back at an almost awkward angle. The firelight danced across his face and I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful. My magic felt so settled in my skin that I thought that I could do anything.

So I said, “Okay. Okay. There was once a strange and somewhat lonely boy….”

T
HERE
WAS
once a strange and somewhat lonely boy. He had wished upon the stars above and found them listening because one day, a man came to the slums and took him away to a castle. His parents came too, and they were amazed and awed at what life would be like for them.

And he worked. The strange and somewhat lonely boy worked as hard as he could, because Morgan expected great things from him. The boy wanted nothing more than to make Morgan happy and make his parents proud.

That left little time for anything else. Between schooling and magic and lessons in proper etiquette, the boy wasn’t able to make many friends. True, he didn’t have friends in the slums to begin with (because he was odd and mouthy and fiery and that combination made him an outcast), but he’d hoped things would be different.

There was a prince for whom he would one day serve, and while he was only a few years older, the Prince had little time for the peculiarity from the slums.

And the boy was okay with that. Mostly.

He was fourteen when the wizard Morgan of Shadows came to him with a great task.

He said, “You must go into the wilds of the Dark Woods and within three days bring back something unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” the boy asked with wide eyes. “Is this a test?”

And the great wizard said with a smile, “Yes, little one. It is a test. And I have great faith in you.”

That made the little boy feel warm and more than a little happy, because not many people had had faith in him. His parents, yes, but who else? He had no friends to miss him in the slums, no people to mourn his departure. But here!
Here
he had a man who was almost a legend telling him about
faith
, and the boy thought that if it were possible, he would bring the man the sun and the moon just to show how much his words meant.

It was also the first time he would be going out on his own. It showed that the wizard had trust in his apprentice, trust that he could perform the task set before him. Was he scared? Sure. He was fourteen years old. He was scrawny. His voice still tended to crack. He was confused why sometimes a handsome boy smiling meant something more than a pretty girl.

But he was more than his fears. He was an
apprentice
, and one day, he would be the King’s Wizard, and people would remember his name and they would be
happy
to see him,
happy
to be his friend.

And so the boy packed a bag, hugged his parents (who were only the tiniest bit teary, especially the father), and walked out of the castle, out of the City, and into the Dark Woods.

And promptly got lost.

He didn’t mean for it to happen.

One minute he was marching determinedly into the Dark Woods, and the next (after being distracted by
this
and
that
), he was in unfamiliar territory, unsure of where to go next. He knew magic, of course, but Morgan had warned him to use it sparingly so as to not attract unwanted attention. Especially if he was traveling by himself. He could protect himself, if it came down to it (which were among the first lessons Morgan had taught him: defensive spells and wards and counterattacks), but he often had trouble with the little things, like directions and staying on point. It wasn’t his fault, not completely. His brain worked a little differently and it was easier for him to become sidetracked. His mother said it was a quirk. His father said it was a talent. Morgan said it was an issue to be worked through.

But none of them were with him in the Dark Woods and he was, and now he was lost and still needed to find something unexpected.

There was a large spider with a web six feet across.

It was unexpected, sure. But it was also gross.

There was the skull of a large elk, sixteen points upon its head.

It was unexpected, definitely. But it had died in the forest it had lived in, and the boy knew that’s where it should stay.

There was a flower that blossomed only when touched by human hands.

It was unexpected, no doubt about it. But it smelled awful and caused the boy to sneeze.

That first night he huddled up against a tree. The canopy overhead was thick, but if he angled his head just right, he could see the stars.

Now, this boy had done his fair share of wishing upon these stars. Sometimes, the wishes came true. Most of the time, they did not. It never stopped him, though. Because the stars were always there, no matter where he was.

And so, like most nights, aside from that stretch of time when he first moved into the castle, he looked up at the sky and found the Fox and the Dragon and the Old Fish, friends that never left him, and on the outside of his vision, he saw the
green
of his magic. It was there, like the stars, his constant.

I wish to find the unexpected
, he thought.
So that I may show Morgan that he was right to place his faith in me.

He slept, then. Under the tree. Under the stars. In the Dark Woods.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was barely rising and he heard a deep, choked sob that came from deeper in the woods.

Whoever it was sounded so sad and hurt that it clawed at the boy’s heart, even as it made him wary. He knew there were tricksters in the forest, shape-shifters and fairies and selkies who could lure even the most hardened of men with promises of sex or love or the need for comfort until they were too close to see the flash of claws, the snarl of teeth.

He was a kind boy, a loving boy. But he was not a stupid boy.

He remembered words that Morgan had taught him, words that could cause rocks to float and be hurled. His was an earthy magic, with words like
ris
and
thri
and
par
. They were weaker words, but they would do in a pinch if he needed them.

He hoped he wouldn’t need them.

He took light steps through the woods, avoiding the leaves that scattered the forest floor. Most knew him by his mouth, the never-ending babble that would pour out talking about anything and everything. They didn’t know that this strange and somewhat lonely boy could be as silent as shadow when called upon to do so. That he could close his mouth and narrow his mind with a razor-sharp focus. He could move with the softest of steps, like he was not there at all.

The sounds of sadness grew louder and he almost hoped it
was
a trap, because the sobs were filled with such pain that it caused the boy’s heart to shatter. A trap meant that nothing bad had happened to whomever was crying like their soul had been torn in two.

There was a clearing ahead.

He moved among the trees.

He heard a quiet murmur moving in tandem with the sobs.

He took a breath and peered around an old tree, the bark rubbing against his hands.

In the clearing sat a giant of a man, head bowed, face in hands, shoulders shaking as he cried. He had long black hair that hung around large fingers. He wore only trousers, torn and dirty. Across the long expanse of his back, scars stretched in sharp, white relief from the tanned skin. It took the boy a moment to see them for what they were.

Whip marks. The giant of a man had been whipped. Repeatedly.

Some of the scars were old. Some looked newer.

He moved his hand from his face, and his chin wobbled, and he let out another sound of anguish, his dark eyes welling and spilling over onto his already wet and reddened cheeks. He looked so
young
.

“It’s okay,” another voice said. “We’ve got away. We won’t have to go back, I promise. We’ll find somewhere to go and I’ll build you a house and we can live there and have food and beds and good dreams and nothing will hurt us ever again.”

The boy looked away from the giant and saw another wonder that took his breath away.

A beautiful white horse, tall and elegant and… talking.

The horse was talking.

It wasn’t until the horse looked off into the trees that the boy saw the nub of bone on the horse’s forehead that he realized it wasn’t a horse at all.

It was a unicorn.

“So awesome,” the boy breathed.

Quite loudly.

The unicorn immediately looked over at where the boy was hiding behind the tree. It glared, eyes flashing brightly and only then could the boy feel its magic, reaching out for his own. It wasn’t as strong as a unicorn’s should be, but its horn was gone so the boy didn’t expect it to be.

He heard the giant of a man rumble loudly as he pulled himself to his feet and the boy thought briefly how he couldn’t be a full giant, as they were twenty feet tall, but that his mother must have been a giantess, and his father a man. He had so many questions to ask but he first needed to make sure they weren’t going to rip him limb from limb.

“Who’s there?” the unicorn shouted.

“I smash,” the half-giant growled.

“Tiggy will smash you,” the unicorn agreed.

“Very hard,” the half-giant said.

The boy most certainly didn’t want to be smashed, but he needed them to know he wasn’t a threat. A unicorn couldn’t be evil, because their hearts were too pure, and if it was traveling with a half-giant, then the half-giant couldn’t be all bad either. And they sounded scared and sad and all the boy wanted to do was make them smile and laugh and be happy.

This strange and somewhat lonely boy knew he had found something
unexpected
.

So he took a breath and pulled his shoulders back and held himself high as he stepped away from the tree and into the clearing.

The unicorn and half-giant stared at him.

The boy stuck out his chest proudly.

The unicorn snorted. It came out pink. “Well,” it said. “That’s not quite what I expected. Who knew the forest was infested with twinks.”

The boy furrowed his brow. “What’s a twink?”

“You’ll learn one day, chicken,” the unicorn said. “Around the time your cherry gets popped. Now go away. We’re busy.”

The boy gaped at him. “You can’t speak to me that way! I’m a
wizard
.”

“Sure, kid. And I’m the Queen of Verania.”

“Smashing?” the half-giant asked.

“No, Tiggy,” the unicorn said. “No smashing. We don’t smash little twinks. We let them grow up so they can provide a valuable service by having sex with mens.”

“Tiggy,” the boy said.

They both looked over

“I like your name,” the boy said. “And I haven’t decided if I want to have sex with men or women yet. I’m only fourteen. I still have time to decide.”

“Honey bear,” the unicorn said. “You are the gayest thing I’ve seen since I last saw my own reflection.”

“Oh,” the boy said. “That’s… eye-opening.”

“I like your face, tiny human,” Tiggy said as he took a step toward the boy.

The boy looked up at him in awe. “So tall,” he whispered.

“Tiggy,” the unicorn said in warning.

“His face,” Tiggy insisted as he took another step and another. The boy felt the ground shake beneath.

“It’s not a bad face,” the unicorn said. Then he narrowed his eyes. “Who sent you here? Why are you by yourself? What do you want?”

“I’m on a quest,” the boy said proudly, puffing out his chest again. “I must find something unexpected and bring it back to my mentor.”

“Uh-huh,” the unicorn said. “Fascinating. Super fun. Are you here to capture us and take us back to Koklanaris?”

The boy scrunched up his face. “Kokla what?”

“His face,” Tiggy said again. His eyes were red rimmed, but the tears had stopped falling. He stood above the boy and leaned down until they were eye level.

“Whoa,” the boy said. “Your eyes are huge, dude. Like as big as my hand.”

“Dude,” Tiggy rumbled. “Huge dude.”

The boy smiled widely. “Dude.”

And then he squawked loudly as the giant picked him up and held him against his chest before turning back to the unicorn.