by Aaron Crash
Tori had the Veil Tear. Gatha had the Yellow Scorch. Keeping the rings separate made sense to him, though he would at times keep them all together in a pouch on his belt.
Professor Albatross gushed. “I’m so very glad that the Princept allowed me to teach this class. I’m sure you know by now that it was Aegel Akkridor himself who first forged the Akkiric Rings.” Linny laughed when she saw the effect those words had on him. “Blue eyes are fighting. It won’t be a fight for you, Ymir. No, you will simply accept your fate.”
Ymir cursed his eyes that changed color even as he smiled. “And what is my fate?”
“To forge the rings,” she said. “And then to choose your destiny. The White Rose Society believes that you will do great things for this world. It’s why we’re helping you.” The smile was warm.
“So it was Aegel Akkridor who first forged the rings?” He wanted to make sure he heard that right.
Linny went to the window, which had a view of the Moons housing, part of the Chapel of the Tree, where the southerners attended to their religious obligations. She motioned him over.
He was close enough to feel her heat and smell her scent. But she drew even closer. “We have to be careful with these last two rings. And in this class, I won’t be able to say a word about the Akkiric Rings. However, you should know the rings are what allowed the vempor to rule for a thousand years. They prolonged his life. Which ring? We don’t know. There’s a reason for that. The vempor’s enemies wanted to suppress all information on the rings and the true nature of the vempor. Like with demons, people loathe what they don’t understand.”
“And they were exhausted after a thousand years of war and carnage,” Ymir growled. “So, we’ve spent the last four weeks laying the groundwork for when Aegel took the throne. It’s been painful review. I want to know if we will be discussing his wives, his governors, and the Corvidae.”
The Corvidae were the seven warriors in Aegel Akkridor’s elite strike force that managed to destroy all those who opposed him. How and why they’d failed to protect him on the Night of Fire, the night the vempor was assassinated, was not known. Much of it was lost to time, the rewriting of history, and the hatred the entire continent had for the tyrant.
The vempor had died a thousand years prior.
Soon after, the Majestrial Collegium Universitas was founded.
Thirty generations of vempors, from Aeno to Aegel, had tried to conquer Thera, and it was only the last, the Vempor Aegel Akkridor, who had succeeded. He ruled for a thousand years until his death, which ended the Age of Discord, and thus began the Age of Withering as the empire crumbled. As fewer boys were born. As the wombs of women dried up. Now it took the sanctum sap tea for women to grow heavy with child. It was why men had harems in the south. The Ax Tundra clans didn’t have this problem, nor did the dwarves in their Stoneholds. As for the fairies? It was hard to tell since so little was known about them. No one had ever seen a male Fayee—the entire race seemed female, which raised some definite questions.
While Ymir pondered all this, Linnylynn retreated from him. She turned to lean against the wall. “Yes, of course, Ymir, I know this has been review for you, but we shall get to the seven wives, the seven governors, the seven warriors of the Corvidae. We’ll go over all that is known about the vempor. This is a class to focus only on him.” The cute professor smiled. “You’re impatient. You have no faith in me. Well, Ymir, I know I should be insulted, but I have come to admire your lack of patience. You would take your ax to the world and murder the Age of Isolation and wash the lands in the blood of millions. Yet, you stay your hand. You have a barbarian’s patience, like a cat waiting until the perfect moment to leap on the mouse. We enjoy that about you.”
“We. The White Rose Society.” Ymir didn’t hide his disgust. “I grow weary of the ‘we’ and the ‘us.’ But I thank you for the help you’ve given me. What of the seventh ring? Any suggestions? From my reading, I’ve seen it called all sorts of things. The Imitation Ring, the Giver Taker, the Bone Thief, the Flesh Creep.”
“The Flesh Steal, yes.” Linny’s brow furrowed. “I’ve seen what you have seen, in various places. It’s like they wanted this ring to be harder to forge than the others. Perhaps because it’s the most dangerous. Or perhaps there were other reasons.”
Ymir could feel the truth in her words. This ring seemed more hidden than the others. There were references to it in the various books on ringology, but each paragraph was full of fear. Why? Did some entity want this ring above all the others?
Linnylynn ended his ruminations when she stepped forward to grip Ymir’s arm. “To think, this flesh of yours will be what brings forth a new world. This strong, young body.”
The professor pushed him so they were squared up. She grabbed both of his shoulders with surprisingly strong hands. “We know about you and Siteev Ckins, and your affair. We know of your lust, and fear not, your lust will be slaked soon enough.”
This was a change in Linny. Ymir wasn’t sure he liked it.
He took her hands off him and held her wrists. He felt the bones under her flesh. “I have four hungry women that keep me quite slaked, Professor, I assure you. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were wanting me to bend you over that desk and take care of your lust.”
Linnylynn’s laughter was musical. “Oh, no, I long for something my mere body can never give me. I understand my passions, my interests, and the kind of life I want to lead. It is beyond what you suggest. I wanted to feel your muscles, though, the flesh and bone upon which we’ll found a new empire.”
“Will I be around to rule?” Ymir asked. “Or will I simply be the peat upon which you trod?”
More laughter, and she playfully slapped his chest. “No, you are the new ring-forger. You will have more honor than anyone. But I must be away. I have so much to do this year. So many classes to teach. I am thrilled to have you in two of them.” She pulled him down and kissed his cheek.
Linny walked away laughing, and he couldn’t help but be entranced by her smell—every woman had her own smell, and to explore their bodies meant celebrating their unique fragrance. Ymir was amused for a minute—he had four women, yet he could easily see himself with four more.
Or was it five? It should’ve been five. Poor Ribby. She’d been away from StormLight Island, but she was set to return, and he would visit her. Then he wouldn’t give Linnylynn Albatross another thought.
He walked from the Moons Tower, past the Chapel of the Tree, and followed a path to the Zoo, at the very edge of the cliffs. That afternoon sun threw twinkles across the dark waters of Angel Bay. The lighthouse was just visible—most of the time it was lost in the fogs and mists of the Weeping Sea.
It had taken Ymir two years, but he was finally coming to understand the strange weather of coastal living. It was wet, misty, rainy, yes, but you could guess when the morning mist would burn off and when the evening fog would come in. For now, he would enjoy the sunlight.
He pushed through the front door of the Zoo and a sweet perfume filled his nose. He spun, and there was Ziziva Honeygood, fluttering in from behind him. Her golden glittering dust filled the room and settled on his shoulders before disappearing.
Immediately, Ymir used the Winter Flame Ring to create a dagger in his fist. The words of a spell were on his lips.
Ziziva fluttered around the kitchen, which Tori kept perfectly clean—a place for everything, and everything in its place. Or that’s what she would say.
Ziziva giggled. “A bad old ice dagger for a little fairy girl like me? You’re so mean, meanie! Such a mean meanie!”
She went zooming down the steps, down into the lower rooms of the Zoo.
The fairy girl smelled sweet, but she seemed sour to her core.
Chapter Eight
STANDING IN THE KITCHEN of his apartment, smelling the sweet perfume of the troublesome fairy, Ymir was angry for a moment—first Professor Albatross pawed him like he was a dancing girl at a crossroads inn, and then his bu
siness partner came bursting into his apartment. A business partner he couldn’t trust. Not ever.
Besides, it was clear no one in his ptoor liked the fairy. Even with Charibda, Tori at least had some feelings for the mermaid. With Ziziva? They all thought her actions were suspect, and the fact that she could manipulate memories didn’t win her favors from anyone.
Ymir went marching down the steps. “Damn the Ax, girl, you cannot come into my house and do as you please! I don’t know the ways of fairy folk, but I can’t imagine even this would be acceptable.”
Ziziva’s voice seemed to come from the very air around him. “Oh, you can’t imagine what it is to live the life of a lonely fairy. You can’t imagine the lonely, you can’t imagine the Fayee, and our secret-y secret secrets. Big ol’ man can’t understand.”
“Ziziva! You are trying my patience!”
The fairy came bursting out of Gatha’s room. She then spun down the ladder in a spray of sweet-smelling dust.
Ymir took the stairs down and into his room. Lillee had made their bed. Jennybelle had her clothes lying about. Trying to keep things orderly seemed impossible.
Ziziva landed on his desk, twelve inches of sass and sparkle. She sank a fist on her hip. “Big Ymirry. We have business, you and I, of the business nature. Of the personal nature, but I don’t know about that just yet. I want to love, love, love, but who could be worthy of Ziziva’s love? Who could be her lovey-dovey?”
She walked back and forth across his desk. Her translucent wings sparkled, but her blue eyes seemed dull, and there seemed to be a darkness on her cute face. Was her short blond hair messy? It was hard to say.
Ymir grabbed a chair and sank it down onto the floor. “Then let’s talk business.”
The fairy leapt up, wings churning, and went zooming down into Ribby’s suite at the very bottom of the Zoo.
Ymir rose from his chair with a grunt. “Fucking fairies.”
“I heard that! And you’ve already fucked this fairy!” The voice rose up to him.
He followed it down into Ribby’s room. The curtains had been pulled, but everything was in its place. Lillee had done some redecorating, but the mirrors were still there, the long pieces of aquamarine fabric, the jewelry and strands of gold, the baubles here and there. And a soft silk net, hanging from the ceiling, a mermaid’s bed for when she returned. If she ever returned.
For now, Ribby was still trying to keep up with her studies, living on StormLight Island. They visited her, but the situation wasn’t ideal.
“Mermaid!” Ziziva shouted. “Where is the mermaid? Lost, lost to us, and living alone. You took Ribby Rib Rib in, and she was rude and cruel, but she won your heart. Won little Ymirry dearie’s hearty, heart, heart!”
“You know where the mermaid is.” Ymir walked to the center of the room and stood there while Ziziva fluttered about. “Since we’re asking questions, I’m wondering why you weren’t up on the sixth floor a month ago with Dillyday Everjewel, her bodyguard, Professor Lola, and Zorynda. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
A look of abject horror flashed across Ziziva’s face. She turned white, that dullness in her eyes grew more acute, and she flung herself up the steps, zooming quickly.
Ymir raced after her, up the steps, through his room, then up the ladders until he was in the kitchen. Ziziva had become her full size, about five feet, with the wings to match. She had her hand on the door latch.
Ymir flung out a hand. “Jelu jelarum!”
The door slammed shut.
He followed the spell up with Form magic to lock it. “Lutum lutarum!”
The fairy whirled and stomped up to him on tiny, delicate feet. She shoved him. “You know too much! You blackmailer! Or are you just a black-hearted male? A blackmale! Hateful! Hateful! Hateful!”
She went to slap him, but he easily ducked her strike. After sparring with Gatha, the fairy moved like an otelkir’s winter oats—that is to say, half frozen.
However, the fairy charged and lashed out again. He caught her hands this time, first one, then the other. He held her wrists but was keenly aware of her knees. He anticipated her next strike, and he took her knee on his thigh instead of his balls.
A second later, his wrists held nothing, and Ziziva sprinkled him with fairy dust, which blinded him for a minute.
Her tiny voice called out, “Lutum inanis!”
The locked door clicked audibly. She’d beaten his spell, but Ymir wasn’t done with this fairy just yet. He still remembered how she’d spit in his kaif at one point because that was just the kind of insane creature she was.
Ymir blinked the fairy dust from his eyes, and though he couldn’t see perfectly, he accessed the Winter Flame Ring and froze the door in its jam. The ice crept around all the cracks.
Ziziva was in her more human form again, trying to rip open the door, but it was frozen shut.
She turned on him and was back to throwing punches.
Ymir blocked or ducked every attack.
That only infuriated the fairy more. “You and your damn magic! You and your damned ways! Going into business with you was the worst decision I have ever made in my entire fucking life!”
Ziziva was shrieking at him, and all of her giggling silliness was gone. Ymir had known for a while now that the fairies pretended to be honey-tongued silly things, but the truth of them was far more sinister.
She was breathing hard and staring daggers at him.
He looked her dead in the eye. “You said you had business with me, and I take that as being personal as well as financial. As far as I’m concerned, you and I have nothing personal to talk about. You flirt and then you fling nonsense. You keep your fairy secrets to yourself. But I have a message for your Fayee friends. If they hurt Della, if they have plans against this school, I will destroy them and anyone who threatens me and my home.”
Ziziva’s eyes filled with tears even as her face lost all expression. When she closed her eyes to escape his rage, tears dribbled down her cheeks. She sighed and tried to talk, but there was too much emotion clogging her throat. When she finally could talk, she licked her lips, and again, no rhyming. No silliness. “The troubles of Reytah have closed off our supply of the xoca beans. Unless you know of another source, we have real problems. I have enough shecks to cover our rent and our basic costs, but our income is going to dwindle if not dry up completely. Unless you can do something.”
Ymir knew immediately he would have to talk with Salt Love and Sambal, smugglers out of the Scatter Islands. Ymir realized he could ask them about Linnylynn Albatross and her family—they were rich people from Williminaville. At the same time, they might have concrete information on this demon king to the south. Interesting that Linny hadn’t mentioned the supposed demonic forces on Reytah. Perhaps King Shapta, this demon conqueror, wasn’t a demon at all. Perhaps he was something else.
“I will contact my people,” Ymir said.
Ziziva opened her eyes, and her lips curved into the sweetest, flirtiest of smiles, while her eyes remained troubled if not dead completely. “And I would be with you at that meeting. And what of your Ribby Rib Rib? Is she back on that nasty island in that nasty sea? Tell me, Ymirry, tell me about your wettest of wives.” She giggled. It was all a mask. It was all an act. She was a cruel thing with a cruel heart, and yet, those tears had revealed her weakness, and she didn’t even try to hide them. It was like she was daring him to call her out on all of her lies.
And to think, he thought she might be capable of being more than a wicked fairy.
Ymir leaned forward, got in her face, smelled her sweet fairy body, and looked into her damaged blue eyes. “As I said before, we have nothing personal to discuss. Not a single thing. So I will tell you nothing about Charibda Delphino.”
Ziziva took a step back. “Of course, I don’t need to ask you, and don’t need to ask anyone you know, because of course the mermaid will be back on the stinky island of hard rock in the ocean-y misty mist. You and I have nothing more to
discuss that is personal. Our happy little candy business, well, I want to be there when you talk with your contacts, and I think I know about them salty smugglers. I hope they like me, since I’m so sweet. And you know how sweet I am. You even licked my honeypot. You know, and you can’t pretend. Now, if you’ll be a sweety sweet, please warm up the door and let me leave.”
With the Winter Flame, Ymir felt the frozen amwabs around the door. He melted the ice instantly. As a final gesture, he murmured, “Jelu jelarum.”
The door swung open.
Ziziva erupted into a fountain of sparkles and flew through the doorway, a tiny fairy once more. Not one person in a million knew that the Fayee could change their shape like that.
She turned. “I won’t tell Dillyday you know about her and her planny plans for sexy Della.” Ziziva tried to giggle, but her silliness died on her lips. She looked confused, lost, sad. “You don’t know what it costs me to keep your secrets, Ymir. I have trouble enough carrying my own.”
“A secret kept is the heaviest of burdens to bear,” Ymir quoted from the Sacred Mysteries of the Ax.
“Fairies are made of secrets,” Ziziva murmured. “We have to be.”
She fluttered away in a splash of sparkles.
Ymir stood in the kitchen for a long time. His conversations with the professor and the fairy had given him a great deal to think about.
Chapter Nine
YMIR FELL INTO A RHYTHM of study and sex.
They were all working to keep up with Lillee. Gatha said she’d stopped masturbating because the elf girl was always there, willing to do whatever Gatha wanted. And that she-orc had an impressive imagination.