The moment they landed, Julius knew they’d crossed the point of no return. Marci was on top of him now, her scent and warmth all over him as she helped him take off her shirt. His went next, and when she settled back down on top of him, pressing skin to warm skin, he thought he was going to die.
Surprisingly, not of anxiety. The few times he’d let himself imagine this scenario, he’d always been slightly terrified. Now that it was actually happening, though, the fact that he was a virgin who had no idea what he was doing suddenly felt like a minor concern next to the absolute wonder that was having Marci so close to him. It was completely overwhelming. Too good to be true. The sort of good fortune that shouldn’t be questioned. But then, just as he was getting the hang of things, Marci froze.
“What?” he asked, terrified he’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at his window.
“There’s a bird out there.”
Julius sat up in alarm. Sure enough, a pigeon was sitting on his windowsill. A perfectly normal-looking city pigeon wearing a little flower hat that someone had tied to her feathered head at a jaunty angle.
She pecked the glass when she saw Julius looking, her throat fluttering as she cooed questioningly. She was still cooing when Julius reached up and grabbed the string for the blinds.
“Wait!” Marci cried as the blinds crashed down. “Wasn’t that Bob’s—”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you—”
“Because I don’t care,” Julius said, burying his face in her neck. “Whatever it is, whatever he has to tell me, it can wait.”
“But what if it’s important?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said stubbornly, pushing up just enough to stare down at her. “I amdoneputting other things ahead of us, Marci. The last time I chose Heartstriker over you, you died. That’s not a lesson I’m going to forget. Bob can take care of himself for a few hours, but I amnevertaking you for granted again.”
He was holding her too tight by the time he finished. When he tried to let go, though, she wouldn’t let him. She kissed him instead, dragging her lips over his until they were both lost again, cocooned in a warm world where, for once, they were the most important things.
***
High above the dry bed of Lake St. Clair, on the last remaining steel support beam of what had been the elevated boardwalk for the elegant—and currently collapsed—lakeside hotels, a dragon sat cross-legged beneath the protective bubble created by his enormous fang-shaped sword, eating a chicken sandwich and watching the magic rise from the ground like a heavy snowfall in reverse.
It was a little cramped—even the Magician’s Fang of the Heartstriker was hard pressed to ward off this much disaster—but Brohomir was quite content. After all, it wasn’t every day you got a front-row seat for the end of the world.
He’d just finished his sandwich and was reaching into the paper bag for another when a pigeon wearing a pretty hat fluttered down to land on his leg.
Alone.
“I take it that’s a ‘no,’ then?” Bob said, lowering his sandwich sadly.
The pigeon bobbed its head, hopping onto his knee to peck at the sandwich he’d just set down.
“I suspected he wouldn’t come,” the seer said, opening the bread so she could eat it more easily. “But there was a small chance, and I’d much hoped I’d get a chance to talk to him properly before…”
“Before the end.”
Bob looked up just in time to see the Black Reach drop out of the sky. Not as a dragon—things weren’tthatfar gone yet—but his human form was bad enough.
“Do you mind?” Bob asked irritably. “Not that I object to a good cryptic drop—which was nicely done, I admit—but there’s not enough room up here for two.”
“I won’t be long,” the Black Reach assured him, helping himself to a sandwich from the paper bag beside Bob’s bloodstained leg. “That looks serious.”
“Things are always serious with my sister,” Bob said with a laugh that quickly turned into a wince as the movement irritated the bruises on his chest. “Even with her Fang, that fight would have been a gamble. Without it…” He grimaced. “Let’s just say I’m happy to still be in possession of all my organs.”
“Couldn’t have been that bad if you’re able to joke about it,” the Black Reach said as he unwrapped his stolen sandwich from its paper. “And I noticed your tool arrived right on time to save you.”
Bob smiled serenely. “Punctuality is one of Julius’s many virtues.”
“So I’ve seen,” the oldest seer said, giving him a piercing look. “That’s the trouble. I’ve seeneverything, and Istilldon’t understand. This meeting, for example.” His eyes flicked to the pigeon, who was still happily pecking at her sandwich in Bob’s lap. “You have everything you need now. What are you waiting for?”
“If you truly saw everything, you wouldn’t be asking me that,” Brohomir replied, reaching down to stroke the pigeon’s folded wings with his finger.
