Legacy of Magic Short Story Collection by Lindsay Buroker

Author:Lindsay Buroker [Buroker, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub

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THE END

A COFFEE DRAGON CHRISTMAS

Elven assassin Varlesh Sarrlevi stood in the rain outside the Coffee Dragon, his magical armor and camouflage wrapped around himself, his ears and senses attuned to threats, and reconsidered the wisdom of seeking advice here. Ogres, trolls, shifters, and humans with mixed blood infested the establishment, arguing and laughing and swilling beverages, while overly caffeinated goblins ran amok. Even more customers jabbered outside, standing in line around a food-distribution vehicle parked at the curb, the words Crying Tiger painted on the side.

The cacophony of noise in the area battered at his pointed ears while the auras of so many magical beings in one place threatened to overwhelm his senses.

Longing for the quiet and solitude of a forest filled him, but Varlesh set his jaw and reminded himself that he was on a mission. A mission he would not fail.

Thorvald’s words from earlier in the week echoed in his mind: You get Matti a Christmas present yet?

Having heard mention of the Earth holiday, Varlesh hadn’t been caught completely unaware, but Thorvald had pursed her lips with disapproval when he’d said, I have acquired exotic cheeses from eight different worlds.

You always get her cheese.

She enjoys cheese. Immensely.

Though he’d kept his feelings masked in front of Thorvald, he’d smiled inside, thinking of the pure delight in Mataalii’s eyes when she bit into the selections he regularly brought. Despite the limitations of her human blood, she was, like many dwarves, a strong warrior and a burgeoning enchanter with great potential. But, unique to her, she was also vivacious, funny, quirky, and—best of all—trustworthy and loyal, even to an elven assassin who everyone told her was a bad idea.

Unfortunately, Thorvald’s pitying sighs had interrupted his reverie. It’s Christmas. A once-a-year occasion here. It involves giving special gifts, not the same old thing.

My cheese is properly aged, not old. And I acquire different varieties to delight her palate. Do you not get your carnivorous dragon mate similar gifts of meat regularly? Varlesh believed he employed more creativity and traveled to more places than she to acquire his gifts.

I do, but he’ll be getting something else for Christmas. Something special. She’d winked, then smirked.

He hadn’t known if the facial expression implied a sexual innuendo—he had no wish to imagine anyone mating with the pompous Lord Zavryd’nokquetal—or she’d been amused because she was tricking him. Her mind was more difficult to read than that of most half-bloods, so he hadn’t been able to peek inside to be sure. Thus, he’d sojourned to this dubious establishment.

Many of the customers were from other worlds, the same as he, but most of the mixed-bloods were native to Earth. They would know about this holiday and the types of gifts appropriate for women.

On the way here, he’d passed a few human males, expressions daunted as they looked through the windows of mercantile shops. Believing they might also be gift shopping, Varlesh had read their minds—simple to do on mundane humans who had no inherent magical power—for clues.

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