Archmage Belthazar had come to the coast for one purpose, and that purpose was nothing. He wore enormous black sunglasses, a robe covered in red and yellow flowers, and sandals enchanted never to retain sand. His beard had been braided, doubled over, and tied behind his head with three blue ribbons so that not one sacred inch of it touched the beach.

His umbrella floated after him while he searched for the proper place to set up his chair. It adjusted itself whenever the sun moved, though Belthazar still stopped twice to argue with it about angles. “There,” he said finally, planting his chair firmly in the sand. “No councils, no prophecies, no kingdoms, no ancient evils, and absolutely no quests.”

A wave rushed much farther up the beach than the others. Something glittered inside it, and Belthazar slowly turned his head. “Don’t you dare.”

The wave hesitated.

Belthazar pointed toward the water. “You put that back right now.”

The wave reluctantly retreated, dragging an enormous golden sword backward through the sand. The weapon had barely vanished beneath the foam before another wave rolled in carrying an ornate helmet covered in sapphire runes. Belthazar planted both hands on his hips. “What did I just say?”

The water pulled the helmet back.

“Good.”

Belthazar unfolded a small table beside his chair and set down a coconut drink, a plate of fruit, and the extremely trashy romance novel he intended to finish before sunset. The ocean behaved itself while he arranged everything, though a suspiciously shaped chest bobbed several yards offshore. Belthazar glanced at it over his sunglasses. “I can see you.”

The chest sank.

“Thought so.”

He had barely gotten comfortable when the water splashed noisily near his feet. A rolled parchment floated in the shallows, sealed with purple wax and stamped with the royal crest of some distant underwater kingdom. Belthazar stared at it.

“No.”

A tiny wave nudged the parchment closer.

“Absolutely not.”

Another wave pushed it another foot.

Belthazar leaned forward in his chair. “Do not make me get up.”

The parchment stopped.

“You have an entire world full of adventurers,” Belthazar continued. “There are knights everywhere. Half of them are standing around hoping something ancient threatens civilization. Go bother one of them.”

The ocean gave a small, innocent splash.

Belthazar narrowed his eyes.

A larger wave suddenly surged onto shore carrying the golden sword, the sapphire helmet, the royal parchment, two treasure chests, a jeweled shield, and a very confused young prince bound with enchanted seaweed. They came sliding toward his chair in one magnificent pile of destiny. Belthazar stood so quickly that his romance novel fell into his lap.

“Oh, no.”

The prince blinked up at him. “Great Archmage, thank the heavens! The drowned city of Nerath has risen, and the Leviathan King—”

Belthazar pointed at the ocean. “You.”

The waves went still.

“You put all of this back.”

The prince stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Not you.”

Belthazar pointed more firmly toward the sea. “You know better than this. Sword, helmet, treasure, prince, all of it. Back where you found it.”

The tide slowly crept forward.

“That’s right.”

Water surrounded the treasure chests and began pulling them away.

“Good ocean.”

The prince suddenly grabbed Belthazar’s ankle. “Wait! Please! Thousands will perish!”

Belthazar sighed so deeply that several nearby gulls changed direction. “Are they perishing today?”

The prince hesitated. “The prophecy says the Leviathan King will awaken beneath the Blood Moon.”

Belthazar looked toward the bright afternoon sky. “And when is that?”

“Next Tuesday.”

Belthazar stared at him.

The prince slowly released his ankle.

“Tuesday,” Belthazar said, “is different.”

With a flick of his wrist, he teleported the prince, sword, helmet, treasure, shield, and parchment into a neat pile somewhere beyond the dunes. Then he turned back toward the ocean and wagged one finger at it. “No more until sunset.”

The ocean quietly lapped against the shore.

Belthazar sat down, reopened his novel, and took a long drink from his coconut. For nearly ten minutes, there were no prophecies, no monsters, and no desperate heirs to submerged kingdoms.

Then something enormous moved beneath the water.

Belthazar lowered his book.

A colossal dragon head slowly rose above the waves with an ancient crown clenched carefully between its teeth.

Belthazar pointed at it.

“Put it back.”

The dragon immediately sank.

Belthazar smiled.

“Good ocean.”