by Aaron Crash
The golem and his ink sword went through the resting wolf, the striking serpent, the eagle wing shield, and so it went, though he never, not once, used the eagle thrust nor the hargen slash. A hargen was a kind of bear found in the mountains on Thera. So the golem wasn’t using two attacks, and he wasn’t implementing a popular defensive maneuver: the steadying blade.
Ymir saw the pattern immediately.
He was fortunate he did. The paper golem was on him, stabbing, blocking, slashing in a set series of movements. When the golem failed to fall into the steadying blade, Ymir dove forward and drove the tip of his sword into the paper chest of the thing.
The golem froze. His sword melted back into ink and flowed back onto the paper of his body, though it didn’t come apart in a whirlwind. The paper man simply stood there.
Ymir lost the feeling in his right hand. The sword clattered to the floor. His vision narrowed to focus on the mosaic. He staggered across the brown tiles marking the Sunrise Mountains and onto the green tiles of the Ohlyrran Forests.
Again, the tiles glowed with numbers in a pattern that pointed to 6,874, and that was right at Greenhome.
Ymir wasn’t sure what would happen once he crossed into the third section of the room. He did know that Nallin Nansal, the warrior poet, had been driven back to where the Nineesee River emptied into the Green Water. That was where he’d rallied the elven troops to end Uganesh the Grass Eater. Ymir had to exit the map there.
He made it to Greenhome, a star marking the floor. His legs failed.
Behind him, the paper man came alive, moving in a whisper across the floor. The ink had flowed back into a sword, and the weapon was raised high.
Ymir sank to his knees, then fell forward. His entire right hand was black. He watched as black ichor dripped onto the floor. The liquid formed a tiny toad, which took one hop, and then vanished.
What kind of evil sorcery was this?
The paper warrior touched Ymir’s back with his ink sword.
Ymir closed his eyes and fell into darkness. He’d failed the First Exam. His time at Old Ironbound was over.
Chapter Thirty-One
YMIR PACKED HIS GEAR in his cell. The evening was cold and wet. He’d miss a lot of things, but he wouldn’t miss the dankness of his room.
He’d woken up in the infirmary, the first set of rooms in the Imperial Palace, where the faculty lived. The doctor, some Ohlyrran woman he didn’t know, was the first face he saw. Issa Leel’s face was the second. “You are done here, Ymir. You failed. Please pack your things and be gone before nightfall.” Her smile grew wider and crueler. “I’ve had several plans to remove you from this university, but I knew in my heart you wouldn’t pass the First Exam.”
He didn’t protest. He didn’t need to give that elf bitch one more second of his time. He went to his cell, where he gathered his things.
Lillee found him soon after and watched him pack. She kept her tears at bay, but he could hear her sorrow in her voice. “You can’t leave. You were poisoned. The Princept can cast magic to see what happened.”
“The Princept didn’t send for me, nor has she sent a messenger. It’s clear that she doesn’t care,” Ymir said. “I will not beg her to let me stay.”
He wasn’t surprised at the Princept’s silence. He did wonder why Siteev didn’t reach out. Perhaps she’d been the one to poison him, though Nelly and Jenny were also suspects. The three of them had been with him in the Flow courtyard. Where was Jenny? Maybe a failed scholar wouldn’t be a good fit for her Firstborn sister.
As for the Moons professor, their arrangement was strictly carnal, and that was fine. He didn’t care about her or Old Ironbound. He’d make his way across the world, do more studying, and be done with magic. Perhaps he’d find another place to create the Black Ice Ring in another three years, when the Wolf moon ran across the sky. They’d still not translated that one Homme word.
He’d take the Akkiric Rings parchment with him. He’d been instructed to leave his Knowing mirror in his room.
“Where will you go?” Lillee asked softly.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I need to think things over.” He grinned at the elf. “But first, I plan on getting good and drunk tonight in StormCry. I’ll get a room there; I have the money. And then you’ll come, and we’ll talk.”
Lillee’s eyes were full of understanding. “You need time alone. To think. I will give you that. But promise me you won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
He went and knelt before her. He gripped her hands in his. “I would never do that. You have become my family, Lillee. Give me this night to drown myself in liquor and rage. And then tomorrow we can decide what to do next.”
A tear tracked down Lillee’s cheek.
He brushed it away. “As for Jenny? We could never really trust her. Her allegiances are with her people.”
Lillee choked on her sobs. “Jenny didn’t do it. She’s looking for the person who did. You know her...she’s fighting for you. Why aren’t you fighting to stay?”
“At Old Ironbound, there are no battles, only games.” He smiled kindly. “I thought I could play the games you southerners play, and perhaps, I could’ve. And yet, my taste for them has turned to ash in my mouth. I’m done here. I’ll study in a safer place, perhaps in a pit of vipers somewhere. But that is the talk of tomorrow. Tonight, by the Axman, I’m thirsty.”
He stood, the elf stood, and he touched the “S” on her temple. He then kissed her and left her crying in the cell.
Could he really ask her to leave Old Ironbound with him? He wasn’t sure. What kind of life would she have with him out in the world? Most likely, he’d join the Bloody Dawn Guild and sell his sword. He’d be gone on campaigns. She’d be alone, and dammit, though she liked it at times, he hated the idea of Lillee Nehenna alone.
He walked out of Old Ironbound through the front gate. He strode down the red brick road toward StormCry. Gharam Ssornap had mentioned an inn there, the Angel’s Kiss, where Ymir could get good and drunk before stumbling into a room. He planned on drinking, not thinking. Tomorrow he could ponder his future.
He considered stopping off to say goodbye to Gharam, or maybe Siteev, or even engage in another sparring match with Della Pennez. Instead, he walked down Vempor’s Road to the coastal town. On the waterfront, he found the inn. Gharam and the dwarf, Brodor Bootblack, were already there, deep in their cups.
Ymir paid for his room before guzzling strong beer—it tasted so good after the piss he’d had to endure in the feasting hall. He’d never see Toriah Welldeep again, and he’d never again be able to enjoy the hatred of Gatha, the orc librarian who obviously loved books more than sex. Pity that.
He sat with Gharam and Brodor, and it was Gharam who asked first. “Dammit, Ymir, what happened? We heard you passed every part of the First Exam, but you let the paper warrior touch you before you could exit Thera. This doesn’t seem possible. By the bloody pits, I’ve seen you fight.”
Brodor chuckled. “Most imprudens froze the thread holding the sword aloft. Or they hurled ice spears. Not our Ymir. He created a damn tower out of ice. I don’t know many sophists who could do that.”
Ymir was surprised the two professors knew so much. Memories of the test were hazy, but he recalled the tiny toad hopping across the tiles. He growled at the orc. “I’ve been waiting for the Axman to clear a path for me. It seems he did, and it leads away from this elkshit school. We’re done talking about it. If I’d wanted to talk, I’d have stayed with my woman. I’m here to drink.”
Gharam shook his head, clearly not impressed by that answer. He mentioned something about the Princept and a message, but that was easily discountable.
Brodor better understood the situation. The dwarf laughed. “I will miss you, barbarian. You brought a little fight to that fucking school. Now, have you heard the one about the dwarf lord and the farmer’s daughter? I swear by stone, it’s true. And the farmer’s daughter never walked the same again.”
&
nbsp; Thank the Axman, one dirty joke followed another, and both the Gruul professor and the Morbuskor man shouted filth above the din of fisher folk, merchants from Ethra to the west and Reytah to the south, and a collection of other pirates, drunks, and well-dressed gamblers. People from all over Raxid were there. Raxid was what Therans called the entire world. He’d learned that much at least.
Ymir enjoyed the company of all the men. Finally, he could be done with the chatter and inscrutable smiles of women. This felt normal. He would’ve wasted his days at Old Ironbound, even if his nights had been full of sweaty passion.
The clansman didn’t match drinks with the orc and dwarf. No, while he had gone there to get blinded, his thoughts wouldn’t let him alone. Ymir realized he didn’t want to sleep in the inn. And Lillee had been right about a few things. He was curious about Jennybelle Josen and her role in his poisoning. If she was innocent, she might know who was guilty, and they might be able to get the truth out of her. Jenny had changed in the weeks they’d known each other. In truth, so had he.
Sitting in the inn, thinking, he smiled like a wolf. He’d left the fucking school like he was supposed to. He’d sneak back in because Old Ironbound’s rules no longer applied to him.
Ymir left his traveling supplies in his room but took his hatchet and his battle ax. He found a boatman who was still sober enough to be able to take him onto the rough seas and drop him off at the hidden docks.
Ymir sat in the bow seat as the old man oared from the aft. They neared the AngelTeeth Islands, and there, three moons shimmered in the water. Ymir rubbed his eyes. Damn the Ax, but he was drunk. No, the cold air was sobering him up. Two moons shimmered in the water, and the third was only light reflecting off a tide pool on one of the islands.
Yes, that was the answer. This was the place where they could cast the final spells to create the Black Ice Ring.
He turned. The lights from the Flow housing and the Sea Stair Market glittered on the side of the cape’s cliffs. And high above, the school itself, the towers and the citadel, rose into the sky. He’d gotten so used to the elkshit school. A part of him was surprised at how much he wanted to stay. Perhaps he would talk to the Princept after all. But first, the ring.
They pulled up to the hidden docks. Ymir paid the fisherman with a silver sheck. He wasn’t going to risk being spotted in the Sea Stair. Instead, he slipped from shadow to shadow until he reached the sea alley. He padded past his cell and out the grate. Then it was an easy climb up the side—the moons gave him more than enough light.
At the top, he slunk across the rooftops, keeping low. Sneaking into the school was rather fun. At the edge of the southern apartments, he paused to look down at the Sea Stair Market. The Unicorn’s Uht was overflowing with scholars, happy to be done with the testing, and thrilled to still be at the Majestrial. Shouting, laughter, and the perfume of women and liquor swirled through the misty air.
Ymir climbed down, keeping to the shadows, and in short order, he was at Jenny’s door. He knocked on it lightly.
The swamp woman opened it and blinked. “Ymir. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
He grinned. His head was a bit foggy from the liquor, but the sea and the climbing had restored most of his wits. “I’m sure if you tell, I’ll get paddled. I think I can take such punishment.”
He walked inside. Lillee sat on the couch facing the flickering flames of the fire. The air was thick with the sweet fragrance of the hot spiced wine they were drinking.
Good. He’d have himself another drink, and then they could talk. It was well past midnight, crawling toward the early morning hours. It would be a good time to plot.
Jenny was confused. “Lillee said you wanted to be alone tonight. Why are you here?”
“To get the truth out of you, princess.” He walked to the pot of wine and scooped it up. He swirled the wine to cool it.
Lillee was silent. Worry painted her face.
Jenny stood, brow furrowed. She wasn’t twirling her hair for once. “I told Lillee that I didn’t poison you. I’d bet anything it was Nelly. In the end, though, we can talk to the Princept. You can take the First Exam again, and this time, you’ll pass.”
Ymir stood by the fire. He sipped from the pot carefully. The wine was far too sweet. “I’m not concerned about this school. Professor Leel made it clear that I’m done here, and I haven’t heard from the Princept.”
“Issa Leel is a bitter, dried-up cunt.” Jenny moved to stand in the middle of the room, in her puffy shirt and tight pants.
“Please, Jennybelle, don’t curse.” Lillee sat in her normal tunic, frowning.
The swamp woman laughed sharply. “Sorry, Lillee. Yeah, you got your cuff on, and so now you’re all prim and proper. Fine.” She pointed a finger at Ymir. “You are giving up way too easily. The Princept did send a message, but that message never reached you. Again, I think it was Nelly. She thought that if you were expelled, we could take you to Josentown sooner rather than later.”
“Maybe I should go and be the king of Josentown.” He shouldn’t be toying with the swamp woman, but he couldn’t help himself. It had become a habit.
Jenny marched up to him, hands in fists. “That is utter shit you’re saying. You don’t mean that.” Her blue eyes blazed. “Do all the men of the Black Wolf Clan give up so Tree-damned easily? Do they just run when they should fight?”
“Fight what?” Ymir said with an easy smile “You women strike from the shadows. You are not worthy opponents. Perhaps I don’t want to play your games.”
“What do you want then?” Jenny asked angrily. Roses had bloomed on the swamp woman’s cheeks. Clearly upset, she was breathing hard.
Ymir let her question hang in the air before answering it. “I want to make this Black Ice Ring. Then we can figure out what we want to do.”
“What?” Jenny couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Tomorrow night, there’ll be three moons in the ocean. I saw them on the boat ride over here. We have all that we need to finish this fucking quest.” Ymir drank more of the wine. It had cooled nicely, and he’d grown accustomed to the cloying spice.
Jenny blinked. “Yeah, uh, I know. I talked with Siteev, and she told me that aszeculum meant the reflection of the night sky on the water. She was worried about you, Ymir. She couldn’t believe you didn’t pass.”
Ymir shrugged. The Moons professor didn’t matter all that much. No, his future lay with Lillee for certain. But what about Jennybelle Josen? What role would she play in his life?
He walked up to her. “I know what I want. What do you want, Jenny?”
The swamp woman took a step back. “I don’t understand why you are so calm. We thought you were turning tail and running away.”
“A night of drinking is not running away.” He shrugged. “And I couldn’t even do that. You didn’t answer my question, Jenny. And for once, I’d like the truth. What do you want from me and Lillee?”
The Josentown princess went pale. The blooms on her cheeks were gone. “So you want to stay at Old Ironbound?”
“That’s not what I said. And that doesn’t matter at this point. First the Black Ice Ring, then we can figure things out. Or are we not a ‘we’?”
Jenny’s finger went to her hair and started twirling. “I really think the Princept will see what happened. I mean, she can cast Flow magic.”
Ymir wanted to growl at her. Could this woman not be honest? He set the pot down, walked up to her, and stared into her face. “What do you want, Jennybelle Josen? After we make this ring, what do you want?”
Tears crept into the swamp woman’s eyes. She couldn’t withstand his piercing eyes. She dropped her gaze. “I want you, Ymir.”
Everything seemed to stop. Ymir felt his spine turn to ice. The hairs on his arms stood straight up, yet no visions came.
Jenny’s voice cracked as she spoke more. “I don’t want to wait to rule. I don’t want to see my stupid, wicked sister on a throne that should be mine. I want to build something.”
Lillee took off her essess and laid it on a table. She stood and walked to them. The fire had burned low. One of the candles sputtered out. Everything had a soft glow to it. Everything was about to change, Ymir could feel it. He knew, for the first time, Jenny was going to tell them her deepest truths.
“Keep talking,” Ymir urged.
Jenny closed her eyes. “You, me, Lillee...we could really do something. I’ve been thinking about this a long time, though I couldn’t be honest with myself before. Now I can be. We three could build something powerful and great.”
“Build what?” Lillee asked softly.
Tears tracked down Jenny’s face. “Another guild, maybe, or a kingdom, or even an empire...I don’t know for sure. I do know we could do some amazing things together.”
Ymir took in a deep breath and let it out. He felt the weight of her words.
Lillee’s voice was little more than a whisper as she asked the same questions Ymir had. “What about your sister, the Firstborn? I thought Ymir was meant for her.”
Jenny opened her eyes. A million emotions sped across her sweet freckled face. “I want Ymir for myself, Lillee. It’ll mean disgrace. I’ll be as much of an outcast as you both are. Auntie Jia might send assassins, or fuck, Nelly might cut my throat in my sleep, but I don’t care.” Jenny’s eyes found his. “You are my path, Ymir, son of Ymok. You and Lillee, you are my future. We can be free, and by the seven devils in hell, we can rule, somewhere, somehow.”
Jenny unbuttoned her puffy shirt to show her plump cleavage and smooth stomach. She was a thick girl, with a nice soft belly and a little poke of a belly button rising from the gooseflesh on her skin.
The swamp woman raised her eyes to meet Ymir’s. “Ask me your three questions. I want to answer them.”
“Will what we do get you pregnant?”
Jenny shook her head.
“Will what we do disrespect yourself?” he asked. This was the easier of the last two questions.