Cursed: An urban fantasy adventure (Legacy of Magic Book 8) by Lindsay Buroker

Author:Lindsay Buroker [Buroker, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lindsay Buroker
Published: 2023-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

17

“Are you sure that’s the right address?” I asked Val as Zavryd banked and descended toward a wild-looking property along a stream.

Val, Sarrlevi, and I rode on his back, with Tinja also along, her eyes wide as she flew for the first time on a dragon. Saying she wanted to recruit some of the rural goblins known to live in the area, she had talked Val into finagling her an invitation.

“It’s hard to direct a dragon by GPS,” Val said, holding up her phone as she telepathically communicated with Zavryd, “as he doesn’t do left and right and follow streets, but it looks like we’re in the right place.”

I glanced back at Sarrlevi, though it wasn’t as if he’d been here before and would know. Only Sigrid, who hadn’t come along, was familiar with the place.

“It looks like a goblin village,” Tinja said, peering down, “wild and natural.”

“It’s supposed to be a farm,” Val said. “I suppose Mom’s directions could have led us astray. They left a lot to be desired.”

“I thought she gave you an address,” I said.

“She said it’s called Wild Berry Creek and Honey and sent the name of the street and how many turns you take from her house to get there. Apparently, if we see two silos, we’ve gone too far. Mom can use computers, but she doesn’t own one or a smartphone, so those are the kinds of directions you get from her.”

Silos are great cylinders for storing grains, yes? Zavryd asked.

“Yes,” Val said.

He flicked a wing toward the south, where two such structures were visible near other buildings surrounded by fields adjacent to a river. That property looked much more like a farm.

“I looked up Wild Berry Creek, and they don’t have a website,” Val said as Zavryd descended toward a gravel road. “It’s possible Arwen’s dad is as anti-modern-tech as my mom.”

“You’d think a business would want to be found,” I said.

“From what I’ve seen of Arwen, she doesn’t want to be found often,” Val said. “Maybe her dad is the same way. It could be a hobby farm. Or maybe they only deliver or sell at farmers markets.”

“Maybe they forage in the woods like goblins and sell what they discover,” Tinja said.

“Fewer people do that than you’d think,” Val said, “though I suppose there are those who hunt for mushrooms. Mom took some classes with Rocket, and he can sniff out truffles in the woods.”

“No wonder he’s her best friend and gets to sleep with her,” I said.

“He does have valuable skills. You could teach him to be the ring bearer at your wedding. Wouldn’t a golden retriever be cute carrying your jewelry up the aisle?”

I looked back at Sarrlevi and whispered, “Suggestions like these are why eloping sounds so appealing.”

“I am amenable,” he said.

“You could have a goblin wedding.” Tinja lifted her arms. “I could even marry you.”

“I didn’t know you were a priest,” I told her as I leaned against Sarrlevi, fantasies of being married without fuss, perhaps by a justice of the peace, lingering in my mind.

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