The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania #3)

“Tell him,” Randall said. “Tell him what your families were chosen to do.”

At first no one said anything, and I didn’t think I’d ever been in a more uncomfortable situation. Then Mama said, “After Myrin was banished to the realm of shadows, it was decided that the keys to the seal were too much for one person to have.” She started clicking her nails on the surface of the desk. “If there was ever a resurgence, if the Darks ever tried to bring Myrin back, it’d be far too easy to get the keys if they were all in one place, even if it was one such as Randall who held them. So they were dispersed to three families in Verania, families whose names carried weight, even if it wasn’t necessarily for the right reason.” She smiled ruefully at me. “After all, who could ever believe such a treasure could be given to those who made their money peddling flesh or drugs or weapons.”

“So it was passed down,” I said slowly. “From generation to generation.”

Mama nodded. “Our biggest treasure, our greatest secret. We are the protectors of the keys to the seal where Myrin had been trapped. At first our families were spread out across Verania, but eventually we found ourselves here, in Meridian City. Randall wasn’t pleased by the idea of all of us in one place, but Meridian City has a tendency to become a… distraction from everything important. It was hiding in plain sight. Not that we had anything to hide from. No one had ever come for the keys since they were given to us. Not once. It was almost easy to forget that we had them at all.”

“And now that Sam has confirmed Myrin has risen, that means that one of you has betrayed me,” Randall said, effectively sucking any and all fun out of the room.

“Whoa,” I breathed. “Dude. Heavy.”

“I take umbrage at your tone,” Letnia snapped. “We have done our duty, as our parents did, and their parents before them. We would no more betray you than—”

“Show me the keys,” Randall said.

“Far out,” I whispered fervently. “It’s like a standoff right now! Gary is going to be so pissed he’s not here to see this.”

Morgan smacked me upside the head. “This is serious.”

“I know,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “That’s why Gary should see this. Can we maybe pause right here and wait until I get him and pick up where you left off?”

Randall stared at me.

“Or not,” I said hastily. “Not is good too. You have my permission to continue on as you were.”

“Your keys,” Randall said again as he turned back toward the others. “Show them to me.” His tone brooked no argument, and if it had been anyone other than Randall, I would have thought it badass.

Mama sighed and stood from her desk. She turned to the wall behind her, where there was a painting of a male courtesan draped seductively on a bed wearing nothing but a dreamy, wicked smile. I choked as she reached up and stroked the length of his painted cock, only to hear a click and a whirring sound, as if gears had started turning.

Then the painting slid to the side, revealing a safe.

“Are you telling me that in order to get to a key that locks the seal to the shadow realm, you have to touch a dick?” I demanded.

“Would you expect anything different from me?”

I thought about it for a second. “No. Actually, that seems about right. Way to stay true to character.”

She twisted the knob on the safe left, left, then right, right, right before pulling on the handle. The door to the safe creaked open, and I could see bundles of paper inside and stacks of gold and coin. She rummaged around, muttering to herself, before saying, “Aha, there you are, you little bastard.” She turned back around and laid the key on the table.

And I was disappointed to see it was exactly that. A key. Like, a regular door key, thick and heavy. Sure, it looked older than fuck, but it was just… normal.

“Huh,” I said. “That was slightly anticlimactic. I really need to learn not to get my hopes up in situations like this. My disappointment is palpable. Like, I can literally taste the disappointment.”

“What did you think it was going to be?” Morgan asked, sounding amused.

I shrugged. “I dunno. Not that. I mean, it’s for a seal to the shadow realm. I at least thought it would be glowing. And shaped like a dragon’s fang. And maybe have jewels set on it. And be inlaid with gold. Most likely priceless.”

“Because of course you did,” Morgan said.

“That’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m used to having my imagination stifled, so. No big deal.”

“The other two, if you please,” Randall said to Letnia and Feng.

Letnia frowned at him, and I thought for a moment that she’d refuse. Which honestly almost made me feel a little bit better, because the thought of Mama being the betrayer curdled my stomach something fierce. I didn’t know what I’d do if she turned out to be evil. All those talks we’d had in the past would have suddenly become her monologuing at me, and even though she was the fiercest drag queen I’d ever met in my life, I would still need to kick her ass for it, something I really wasn’t looking forward to. I didn’t want to get stabbed with a pair of stilettos.

But then Letnia sighed and reached for a string that hung around her neck. She pulled it up and over her head, and a key came out attached to it. She laid it on the desk next to Mama’s. It was similar, maybe a little bit darker, and maybe a little bit more flecked with rust. But it too was just a regular-looking key, and this was probably the worst reveal in the history of all reveals.

I told myself that when I became the King’s Wizard, all my shit would be so much cooler than this. I would never become lame like them. Key to a shadow seal? That shit’s going to be made of motherfucking crystals and require incantations.

I was going to be so awesome.

I sighed forlornly as I stared down at the keys.

“He’s tasting his disappointment again,” Morgan told Randall.

“Kids these days,” Randall scoffed. “If it’s not bright and shiny for their tiny little brains, then they fail to comprehend.”

I couldn’t even argue with that.

“Feng?” Morgan said. “If you would, please. The sooner we deal with this, the better it will be. And then we can—”

“Well,” Feng said. “You zay dat’s vhat you vant. But I can’t do dat.”

I looked up slowly.

Feng stood on the opposite side of the desk. His coat was now open, and strapped to his waist and chest were what appeared to be tiny wooden spheres, dangling down and swaying back and forth as he moved.

In one hand he held Letnia’s discarded cigar, the end glowing brightly.

In his other, he held Justin by the throat.

T.J. Klune's books