“Mr. Foxheart.”
He jostled me a little, causing me to sigh and slump back against him, the stars above us beginning to fade with the sunrise. I purposely didn’t seek out David’s Dragon, because I didn’t think the best use of my time was to glare at a constellation.
“You’re being stupid,” he said again, quieter this time. “I know you. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Maybe I think that’s cheating a little.”
“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” he said wryly.
I snorted. “Obviously you don’t know me as well as you think you do if you think I’ll just get over something.”
“Touché. Now I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen and not say a word until I give you the okay. Understand?”
I shivered a little at that. “I’d prefer you not to get all growly while we’re riding a dragon who thinks he’s my stepdad but who also tries to get in my pants on a daily basis. I feel like that would get awkward for everyone. Well. For me and you. Probably Tiggy. The other two probably would get off on that. And now I wish I hadn’t said any of this out loud, because I’ve got a weird taste in my mouth like I’ve just eaten bad eggs.”
“Got that all out now?”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. Yes. I’m listening.”
“Lucky me.”
“Motherfucking god of sass, what the hell—”
“I love you.”
I fell quiet.
“And I know that things have been… weird lately. Okay. Things have been weirder. I probably know that better than almost anyone. And I know that a lot has come down upon you. This whole… destiny thing, and yes, Sam, I know you hate that word, but I think it’s important. Because if all of this is real, if all of this means something, it shows that the gods had faith in you, even before you existed. And maybe they’re supposed to remain impartial, but in the end, I don’t believe that. I don’t believe they want to see Verania brought to its knees by some villain. I don’t care if he’s Morgan’s brother. I don’t care if he’s Randall’s cornerstone. I don’t care about the sense of betrayal they must have felt from him. That’s not my concern. That’s not what I care about, at least not right now. Do you know what I care about, Sam? Do you know what my concern is?”
I did, but I couldn’t seem to open my mouth to say it. And besides, I had a feeling the question was rhetorical anyway.
“You,” he said, squeezing me tightly. “You are my concern. You are what I care about. And I know you, Sam. I know you’re probably thinking how much of a cluster this is. That if you hadn’t met me, I wouldn’t have to be a part of this. That I could be living a normal life.”
Godsdammit.
“But did you ever stop to think that I don’t want that?”
Well, no. I really hadn’t.
“I don’t, Sam. This is the life I’m supposed to lead. This ridiculous, wonderful life where we’re now flying on the back of a dragon from one side of Verania to the other to stop a group of Dark wizards from destroying a city filled with pimps and prostitutes and a drag queen named Mama who looks at me like she wants to eat me for dinner. And do you know why I’m doing that? You, Sam. I’m doing it for you. Because I will follow you anywhere. I don’t care if it’s in the castle. I don’t care if it’s tied up in the Dark Woods while a six-inch-tall naked fairy king tries to pretend he’s better for you than me. I don’t care where we go, Sam. As long as I’m with you, I’m ready to do anything. So stop with the mothercracking guilty thoughts. I am here because I choose to be. I’m here because you are. And there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”
For one of the first times in my life, I was shocked silent.
Gary wasn’t. “You great big bag of assholes,” he wailed from below us. “How dare you say something romantic and sweet and wonderful like that! Who do you think you are, the author of The Butler and the Manticore? Surprise, motherfucker. You aren’t. Here I am, trying to argue with my ex-husband so that he realizes just how much he misses me and apologizes for being a dickhole—”
“I’m not the one who needs to apologize, sweetheart. You were the one who—”
“—how much he misses me and needs to apologize for being a dickhole, but then you just have to go and give me a heart boner. And there’s nothing I can do about it! Do you know why I can’t do anything about it, Ryan? Kevin, lift me up near your shoulder so I can stare right at Ryan and ask him why I can’t do anything about it.” Kevin did, and Gary peered over the dragon’s shoulder at us. “Well? Do you know why, Ryan?”
“Don’t answer, Knight Delicious Face,” Tiggy said. “Trick question.”
Ryan said, “I—”
“Because I’m motherfucking flying through the goddamn air. In case you didn’t notice, unicorns were not meant to fly through the air. I have hooves. Beautifully pedicured hooves that cost me plenty of coin, because Ming Win might be a goddess of her craft, but she is also a thief with how much she charges at her salon. I swear to the gods if there was any other place that I could go to get the same quality of work, I would. And then I would also go back to her salon and light it on fire and burn it to the ground—”
“Gary.”
“Right, right. Sorry. I got distracted. You know how seriously I take my mani-pedis.”
I sighed. “Unfortunately, I do.”
“As I was saying,” Gary continued, sniffling loudly, “Ryan Foxheart, that might have been the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard anyone say ever, and I’ve decided that I officially like you. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said. Then, “Wait. What do you mean you officially like me? You told me you liked me a long time ago! It was that day on the road when Randall said something about a cornerstone, and you were all full of shit and lying to me. You told me you liked me then.”
“Wow,” Gary said, eyes completely dry. “Someone seems to be hanging on to each and every single word I say like a creeper. Good gods, man. Control yourself. If you wanted to taste the rainbow, you had plenty of opportunities before you acted like a little bitch and waited until you stood in front of a thousand people and admitted you loved Sam while you were about to marry Justin. It’s not like I haven’t seen you checking out my fine ass.”
“You what?” I said, suddenly not choked up anymore. “Dude! That’s my best friend.”
Ryan looked scandalized when I twisted around to glare at him. “I was not checking out Gary!”
“Bullshit,” Gary snorted. “What about that night by the campfire when Tiggy and Sam were asleep and you offered to massage my thighs?”
“Uh, really?” Ryan retorted. “I think your memory might be a little bit fuzzy. Let me help you with that. If you’ll recall, you woke me up by breathing on my face and told me that your flank was hurting from all that walking and, I quote, ‘I need a man with rough hands to come in and soothe the burning in my groin.’”
Gary gasped. “I would never. That makes me sound like some kind of floozy.”
“You a floozy,” Tiggy said. “Little bit.”