by Hondo Jinx
“She also killed you?” Dan guessed.
“Yes,” the head said.
“That really sucks,” he said.
He had heard enough. This was definitely an invitation to explore some crazy, high-level dungeon.
All that stuff about him showing up in her dreams was so much hooey meant to draw him in. Same with mentioning Holly, about whom the head seemed pointedly resistant to providing additional information.
“But maybe you should’ve known better?” Dan said. “To be fair, caves full of dark magic, a gathering of evil creatures, and some uber-powerful necromancer sound like a pretty tough challenge. Way too tough, I might add, for a second-level barbarian.”
“Sometimes,” the head continued, “forces of pure evil carry on in death. The necromancer will rise again.”
Of course she will, Dan thought.
“When she does,” the head said, its voice quavering with desperation, “only you can destroy her.”
“You seem to have missed the part about me being only second level,” Dan said. This head was pushier than a door-to-door salesperson.
“To defeat her, you must—” But just like that, the head went as silent as, well, a decapitated head.
“To defeat her, I must… what?” Dan said.
“Pretty,” a voice rasped from behind him, chilling his blood. “Isn’t it so pretty?”
Dan spun around and screamed.
He recoiled, bumping into the table hard enough that artifacts clattered to the floor.
“Dr. Lynch,” he said, instantly covered in goosebumps. The temperature around him had dropped ten or twenty degrees, maybe more. “You startled me.”
“Clumsy boy,” Dr. Lynch said.
At least the thing looked like Dr. Lynch.
Sort of.
For as ancient and haggard as Dr. Lynch had looked in the old world, that version of her had been a spring chicken compared to the thing standing before Dan now.
Her hair jutted out in all directions, flaring like a white corona from an emaciated, almost skeletal face caked in makeup. The heavy powder was probably meant to minimize wrinkles, but it made Dr. Lynch look like a mortician had given her a makeover.
She wore an ancient and faded yellow gown that must have been fancy long, long ago but now looked like a funeral shroud draped over her wasted, bony frame. Despite the dimness of the room, Dr. Lynch also wore dark, oversized sunglasses that only served to make her skull-like face look even smaller.
“Sorry,” Dan said, and started picking up things that had toppled when he’d knocked into the table with surprise and revulsion.
The room felt even colder now.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
It didn’t just feel cold in here. It felt strange. Bad.
“Don’t bother, clumsy boy,” Dr. Lynch rasped. “Your time is almost at its end.”
Dan turned back around and then squeezed back against the table.
Dr. Lynch had inched forward. Her smell hit him then, an overwhelming stench of decay and sickly sweetness, like a rotten chuck roast marinating in cheap perfume.
His gorge rose, but he battled it down, doing his best not to show his utter disgust. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Class just started.”
“When I arrived,” Dr. Lynch said, “you were speaking with the head.”
“I was just talking to myself,” Dan lied.
“What did she tell you?”
“I don’t know what you—”
“The dead speak in riddles,” Dr. Lynch said. “Riddles that would no doubt only confuse a barbarian.”
Dr. Lynch pronounced the word barbarian as if it were a slice of rotting lemon in her mouth.
“However,” she continued, “even the most primitive savages can learn lessons from the dead. Lessons concerning their own mortality, for example, and the essential futility of life itself.”
“I already told you,” Dan insisted. “I wasn’t talking with the head.”
“Speaking of futility, let us speak of your performance in this course. You are failing,” Dr. Lynch said, and the corners of her sunken mouth twisted cruelly upward. “Which comes as no surprise to me. Barbarians don’t belong in universities. You lack the requisite intelligence and work ethic to succeed.”
Anger leapt up in him. “Are you calling me stupid?”
“Stupid or lazy, take your pick,” Dr. Lynch said. She shoved a piece of yellowed parchment into his hands. “Your last chance.”
He wanted to shout at her. Who was she to call him stupid and lazy, just because he’d grown up in the forest? But at that moment, her foul breath overwhelmed him, and he started coughing and choking.
He staggered away, hacking and gasping.
When he finally found his breath again, Dr. Lynch was gone.
What the hell?
Then he looked down at the crumpled yellow parchment that she’d handed him. Smoothing it out, he beheld a message so jagged and spindly that it might’ve been written by spiders.
In one week, the note informed him, you will take your midterm examination, which will cover the first thirty chapters of Remedial Treasure Identification: Riddles from the Dead.
Fail the test, and you fail this course.
No second chances.
Should this transpire, I shall have no choice but to inform the scholarship office immediately.
21
Master
Covered in sweat and breathing hard, his muscles bulging with exertion, Dan paused and looked down, admiring the view.
Holly was crouched before him, quivering on all fours, her naked body glistening with perspiration.
Holly’s perfect ass pressed back into him, engulfing him in her slippery sex. Her waist was so small, he could practically wrap his big hands around it. Her golden hair had come undone and covered most of her lovely back.
He brushed aside the beautiful blond hair, admiring her pale skin and fine lines of her back. He ran his fingers upward, riding the groove of her spine, and flattened his palm against her upper back.
Then he pressed her face and breasts into the bed.
Holly moaned, grinding her ass into him, forcing him deeper into her. “Don’t stop,” she said, panting with exhaustion and desire. “Don’t stop fucking me.”
She inched her hips forward and slammed back into him, once, twice, three times, trying to recapture the fierce, slapping rhythm.
But Dan knew her well enough by now to know that she wanted something else even more.
He pushed his hips forward not in a thrust but in a slow, steady motion that flattened her into prone position.
Holly whined, trying and failing to force him to pound her. He held her there with his weight and strength, impaling on his length, his pelvic bone pinning her down so that she could only squirm and whimper, “Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
But Dan smiled, playful darkness rising in him. “Please fuck me… who?”
Holly’s face turned sideways on the pillow. Her eyelids opened slightly, showing a sliver of purple iris. Her pale cheek glowed rosy red with passion. Her mouth was open, the pink wet tongue glistening inside. Her ragged breathing stirred the strands of blond hair falling across her features.
“Please fuck me,” she said, sounding both humiliated and very, very aroused, “master.”
“That’s more like it,” he said and nipped her pointed ear.
He scooped her up, returning them to doggy style, drew back his hips, and thrust into her powerfully.
“Yes,” Holly gasped.
Her entire body undulated, pressing back into him rhythmically.
“More,” Holly begged. “More, master!”
Turned on by her begging, Dan thrust hard and fast, slap, slap, slap, pumping away in perfect time with her undulating body until Holly cried out in her elven tongue, overwhelmed with passion, and they came together in waves of throbbing pleasure.
Afterward, they lay in a panting, sweating tangle of arms and legs
, laughing and kissing in the afterglow.
Eventually, Holly rose and padded off to the restroom on bare feet. Dan watched her go, marveling at her perfection and his luck.
He never wanted this to end. He couldn’t let that evil bitch Dr. Lynch ruin everything. He needed to get some money, buy the textbook, and study like crazy before the midterm, which Dr. Lynch obviously expected him to fail.
He had to prove her wrong, had to stay in school.
Holly reappeared, and her beauty incinerated all thoughts of Dr. Lynch, academic troubles, or anything else.
“You’re gorgeous,” he told her. “You know that? Absolutely perfect.”
“Thanks,” she said, sliding back onto the bed and running her fingertips lightly across his chest. “And you are incredibly handsome, my big, strong barbarian.”
“Your big, strong master, you mean,” he teased, and they wrestled playfully, tickling and nipping at each other.
But after a while, he could see that she was still worried about Campus Quest.
“Relax,” he told her. They had already been over it a bunch of times. “Nadia said she had somebody. We’re meeting him tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah,” she said, “right before tryouts. What if he doesn’t show? What if he doesn’t work out?”
Dan held her head in both hands and kissed her forehead. “You’re making yourself crazy with this,” he said. “What’s the big deal, anyway? Worst case scenario, we don’t get to try out for Campus Quest.”
Her eyes grew large, filled with something like panic. “Don’t even say that.”
“I mean it, though,” he said. “I hope the guy works out, we get into the games, and win the whole thing, but if not, so what? I mean, what’s in it for you?” He grinned. “Other than getting to spend more time with me, of course?”
Holly gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Just because I have you wrapped around my little finger doesn’t mean that it’s mutual, barbarian.”
But then Holly grew more serious. “There’s the prize money, for starters. I honestly don’t need much. If we win, you and Nadia can split the lion’s share.”
“All right,” he said. “Money, then. How much are we talking?”
“Fifty thousand gold pieces.”
Dan’s jaw dropped, and for a second, he just stared at her.
His share of fifty thousand gold pieces would solve a lot of problems. He wouldn’t need the scholarship, for starters. He could tell Dr. Lynch to shove that parchment up her ass. “That much? Really?”
“Really,” she said, nodding, her eyes out of focus, her expression distant and troubled.
He caressed her cheek. “It’s not about the money for you, is it? Tell me the truth. Why is Campus Quest so important to you?”
She shook her head, looking hesitant. “I’m afraid if I tell you, you won’t like me anymore.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fat chance! Give it up, woman. Tell me what’s going on.”
She looked doubtful. “You really want to know?”
“I do,” he assured her. “Tell me everything.”
22
Holly’s Confession
Holly gazed at him for several seconds, and once again, he was struck by her purple eyes. They shone with sharp intelligence, which he found very sexy, but beneath that glimmer, he sensed so much soul… compassion and emotion and what felt like wisdom, the sort of wisdom gained only by having endured a life of rigorous challenges.
Holly’s smile faded, and her eyes went serious. “You know that I'm old, right?”
Dan ran his eyes up and down her perfection. “You sure don't look it.”
“We grey elves age far more slowly than you humans,” Holly said. She hesitated, seeming to summon courage before continuing. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.”
Holly laughed, sounding sad. “Nineteen,” she said, and shook her head. “Such a bright, fresh flame.”
“Are you calling me hot?”
Holly smirked. “How old are your parents?”
“Mom’s thirty-nine,” he said, then thought for a few seconds, doing the math. “Dad will be forty-four next month.”
Holly bit her lip, looking very much like a troubled twenty-year-old. “My parents are over a thousand years old.”
“Whoa,” Dan said. “That’s one hell of a generation gap.”
She laughed again, but he could see that she was still concerned. Then she said, “And Dan… you should know… well…”
“What? Spit it out.”
“I’m one hundred and forty-nine years old.”
He shrugged. “So?”
“So,” she said, “that means that when your father was born, I was already over a hundred years old. Doesn’t that freak you out?”
He kissed her inner thigh. The flesh there was soft and supple, the skin smooth and flawless, the muscles beneath relaxed but powerful. “Not at all,” he said truthfully. “Should it?”
“No,” Holly said, obviously relieved. “But you never know what might freak out you crazy barbarians. You and your primitive superstitions.”
“Any superstition that would keep me away from you isn’t a superstition worth keeping.” He smoothed a hand up her leg. “You’re cool and smart and fun, and you’re hot as hell. I don’t give a damn how old you are.”
Holly smiled and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re not freaked out. Honestly, I don’t feel old at all. As a grey elf, I’m just leaving my ‘teen’ years.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “But what does all of this have to do with Campus Quest?”
Holly said, “Until I came here a year ago, I had never left the grove. For over forty years, I was a child. I ran and played, sang and danced, and learned the ways of the forest. I read adventure stories and mythology and the tales of famous elves, some of whom were my relatives.
“But the next century, things got more serious. Grey elves are the keepers of knowledge. That's our job in the world—to endure and keep the knowledge. That’s why we stay tucked away in our fortresses in the woods. When my grandmother died, The Great Council gave her seat to my father, making him one of only nine True Druids in the world.”
“Wow,” Dan said, impressed.
“Yeah,” Holly said. “Very wow. My older brother, Briar, cares only for wine and blood. He has a terrible temper and is a great swordsman and protector. Someday, he will become the Lord Protector of the grove, but he will never be a druid. My little sister, Lily, certainly knows the wilderness well enough to become a great druid, but she is too wild for books and studying. My parents expect me to follow my father and carry on the family legacy.”
“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” Dan said.
“My father is a very serious man,” Holly said, “and my mother is a grove scholar. Her life is spent inside books. To both of them, my coming here was absurd. Grey elves don’t mingle with other races, and they certainly don’t attend college. My parents were dead set against it. They consider college a dangerous distraction.”
“How did you get them to let you come here?” he asked.
“I begged them for decades,” she said. “I pouted and reasoned and bartered. Finally, I wore them down like steady rain on stone.”
“Well,” he said, “I'm glad you did.”
Holly laughed. “So says the man kissing his way up the inside of my thigh.”
“Guilty as charged,” Dan said with a grin, and started moving upward from her knee.
She stopped him before he could rise any higher. “Wait,” she said. “Hear me out. Then I’ll let you ravage me.”
He smiled up at her. “That's good to know.”
“Coming here, experiencing something outside of the forest, was important to me,” she said. “After graduation, I'll return home and spend the next several hundred years protecting the forest and the animals and doing my best to become a great druid. After that, I’ll spend my remaining five hundred or a thousand years in the Grove of Knowledge, o
ur great library, reading and adding to the books. This is my last chance to experience life outside the forest.”
“Whoa,” he said. “Is that what you want?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. But I do know one thing. I want to enjoy my time here. Last year was a big adjustment.”
“I’ll bet.”
“But for the next three years, I’m going to have fun and store up exciting experiences. That’s why Campus Quest is so important to me.” She smiled. “It's so big and bright and loud, so… over the top. It’s the opposite of life in the grove.
“I'm not looking to impress anyone by competing. I don't need the money, and I certainly don't want to be famous. I'm not looking to prove anything to my parents. In fact, if we do win, I won't even tell anyone back home.
“Campus Quest is for me. That's it. I really want this experience.
“And yes, I want to win. I think it would be really exciting. I want to experience the rush that you humans feel. Just once, I’d like to stand there, victorious, in front of 80,000 people, burning like a bright, fresh flame.”
An embarrassed laugh escaped Holly, and she blushed. “Wow, I guess that all sounds pretty lame, huh?”
“Well,” he said, “considering the part about spending another thousand years or so hitting the books, no, it doesn't sound lame at all. I’ll do whatever I can to help you win.” Then he started kissing up her leg again.
Grinning, Holly smacked his head playfully. “Oh, you silly barbarian. Why am I even telling you all of this?”
“Because you’re crazy about me,” Dan said and plunged his mouth between her legs.
Holly purred, slid her hands onto his head, and grabbed two handfuls of hair. “Yes,” she said. “I could go crazy for you. For a time, anyway. What are you doing for the next three years?”
Dan lifted his head and smiled up at her. “You're looking at it.”
23
The Man, the Myth, the Monkey
Dan couldn't quit grinning. He stood there, holding hands with Holly and panning his gaze back and forth across Nadia's dorm room.