by Dante King
He put a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered confidentially, “Immortality, young master, is a pain the arse.” He floated back away from me and waved. “Choke up on that staff now, you’ll be the passion of all the young ladies!” He began laughing again and vanished in front of me, though the cackling lingered.
“Let’s go.” Enwyn shook her head and walked out of the door. “Barry is a little… mad.”
“He’s my first ghost…” I started to say, then it hit me why the building looked a little familiar. This was my uncle’s shop. Same floorplan, same front door. It was like it was hollowed out and everything was replaced with different kinds of junk.
Same dust though. That didn’t change.
The door opened and, to my disappointment, it seemed that it was a normal, everyday door. There was no further portal change, but the streets of my small town looked very different, but similar enough I could have found my way around.
The gas station across the street was a livery for horses and several carriages stood in ordered rows. What that was all for, I couldn’t imagine, if traveling to another dimension was a matter of stepping through a door, why bother with a horse?
The convenience store with it was now an open-air market. The muffler and body shop featured a very large and hairy man pounding a piece of metal on an anvil. The Starbucks turned into an alehouse, a change I approved wholeheartedly.
It was like seeing a medieval version of the town, only people were not at all bothered with lights that floated in the sky where streetlights would have been in my world. Neither did the occasional horseless carriage cause a stir. That wasn’t a name for a car—it was literally a carriage going down the street without a horse hooked up to it.
I held a staff that adopted me, I had been shooting lightning bolts and splattering a wizard over my uncle’s books, traveled through some kind of inter-dimensional doorway, and took the whole thing rather well, if I do say so myself. But this…this was too much. This was just weird. The worst part of it was that no one else noticed. These mini-car carriages were just rolling around with people in them and no one batted an eyelid. It was like walking about Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco—no one noticed anything weird.
We crossed the street to where the clothing store would have been in my town. It was somehow fitting that here too—it was a clothing store. Enwyn swiped her arm out in a wide arc and told me to find something appropriate to wear.
To my surprise, the place was…awesome. They had heavy robes like wizards wore in movies, there were great capes, cloaks, and hats. I could go anywhere between Merlin and Sorcerer’s Apprentice. They even had blue jeans.
“That’s recent,” Enwyn said when I remarked on the jeans. “They just go with everything.”
I laughed. “Is there a uniform at the Academy?”
“There is,” Enwyn said. “But you’ll love it. I think there are some. . . here they are.” From the shelf in front of her, she pulled out a black jacket with burgundy-colored lapels and a golden chain around the color.
“Much better than I expected,” I said. “I’m not opposed to wearing robes—after all, I imagine they’re perfect for freeballing—but this is badass.”
Adding to the look was a white dress shirt, black pants with a burgundy stripe running down it to match the jacket, a black leather belt with a golden buckle, and knee-high boots that flared out far enough for me to tuck my pants into them like Barry had.
At Enwyn’s insistence, I also got a pair of swim trunks. When I asked her why, she looked at my crotch and said, “You’ll see.”
“I don’t have a lot of money,” I said, reaching for my wallet. “Does VISA work here?”
“Don’t worry about that. The Academy is footing the bill for your introduction. It’s a one-time thing.”
Well, hell, in that case…
I bought another jacket, two more shirts, and pants.
Walking out of the store, I nearly tripped over a man who was lying on the sidewalk. His eyes were focused on nothing at all, but he seemed enthralled by it. He sniffed and dug into his pants pocket, pulled out a small stick, put it in his mouth, and sucked on it briefly before replacing it. Then he lay on the boards of the walkway mumbling something about a girl from Nantucket.
“What?” I looked to Enwyn, who didn’t seem to notice the man until I pointed him out.
“Magic addicts.” She sniffed in disapproval. “Magheads. This one has a broken bit of someone’s vector, and he’s sucking the residual magic from it.” She shrugged and headed for the road.
“Are there a lot of them?”
“Who?” She turned to me and looked back at the maghead. “Oh, I suppose. There are a lot of people that get addicted to pure magic.” She took a closer look and seemed to reach a conclusion. “No. That’s not entirely fair. Sometimes they’re veterans who have been exposed to too much raw magic in the field. They come home and can’t live without it anymore.”
“If they’re veterans, shouldn’t the queen be helping them?”
“How are they treated in your world?” Enwyn asked me rather pointedly. I shut up. In either world, it seemed, you got shafted.
As I was thinking in those terms, several wagons—these pulled by wild stamping horses—pulled up in the street outside of the shop where I had met Barry and obtained my staff and skinny grimoire. A large number of what looked they could pass for this world’s version of soldiers leapt from the carriages and ran into the shop. One man, a tall, thin guy with a sharp chin and a dead expression, waited at the curb. He was handsome in a cruel and calculating way. He was also spotless in a place where everyone had some disarray to them. It was like dust and dirt didn’t dare get close to him. With that sour expression, I could sympathize.
“Who is that?” I asked Enwyn.
“Idman Thunderstone,” she replied quietly. Her hand shot out to stop me from getting closer, as though I would cross the street and introduce myself. It was the most useless gesture ever; I had no interest in getting closer. “He’s the High Warden of the Eldritch Prison. Not nice. He uses Death Magic.” I could hear the capital letters in the way she said that.
“What’s…”
“Death Magic is one of the Elder Magics,” Enwyn said, frowning. “Little is known about them. Some of the more ancient academies teach such disciplines, but Mazirian Academy is restricted to the fundamental elements.” She shivered a little as she spoke.
The man’s dead gaze circled around the area and stopped on us—stopped on her, on Enwyn. I could tell that his eyes didn’t get to her face. Though any man would have looked at her—she was gorgeous—most men would have had enough class to make it discrete. This Thunderstone guy didn’t even try to hide it. That might have been why Enwyn was shivering. Hell, I nearly did too.
The soldiers came out again and with them Barry, wrapped in spectral chains and trying to hide under his ridiculous hat. It was big enough.
“What? They’re…” I only just met my first ghost, but I was already outraged that he was being taken by the Five-O. I nearly stormed up and demanded answers, but this time Enwyn’s hand grasped my arm tightly.
Enwyn shook her head. “It was only a matter of time until they found Barry,” she sighed. “The Arcane Council decreed unauthorized spirits must be locked up. They ceased to have rights when they died. The undead are kind of an underrepresented group right now.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
She looked at me with that expression I was getting to know well. “In your world, are your civil rights given to you for as long as you live?”
“Yes.” I stopped then and thought about that for a moment. “Shit.”
“Come on, before they look too closely this way.”
Enwyn flagged down one of the horseless carriages, and we climbed in.
“Mazirian Academy,” she said.
Chapter Three
The Horseless, as Enwyn called it, stopped after traveling for God knew how long, and the door opened
on its own. Enwyn climbed out, and I followed her, my eyes on her ass as she bent to get under the top of the door. The Academy might as well have been a resort in my world: a huge playground, the main structures built all of stone, with large arches and ivy growing up the sides of the buildings.
The center of the structure was a temple. Not the temples that were downtown for different faiths, like those I was used to. This was more like the ruins in Greece or Italy, only this building was clearly as far from a ruin as it was possible for a temple to be. I stared at the towering white marble pillars, doors that were high enough and wide enough for a couple of semis to pass each other. There was a dozen or so steps, also white marble, that made it look like a municipal building, but inside was nothing like any DMV I’d ever seen.
The interior started with a swimming pool, though to call this thing a swimming pool was to call the Pacific Ocean a lake. It was huge. It probably ran two or three football fields and was as wide as it was long. The water was pure, clear and inviting as hell.
“That’s why you told me to get swim trunks,” I said to Enwyn, with a low whistle of appreciation. “I mean, I don’t mind going for a dip in my boxers, but I’d hate to show up the other guys.” I gave her my best grin.
Enwyn didn’t even look at me. “What guys?”
I checked again and nearly tripped over my own jaw. Enwyn was right. There were some men there, a handful at best, but the vast majority of the people enjoying the pool were girls. Beautiful girls. Beautiful girls in bikinis. EVERYWHERE.
I think I drooled.
“Wa… who are these people?” I asked. “Are we here for the professional cheerleader convention?”
“These are your fellow students,” Enwyn said, grinning and sweeping out an arm to indicate the sexy, barely clad women.
“How…” I wanted to ask a question, but someone of the feminine persuasion bent over just then, and I had to wait out of respect. “Why… They’re all women!”
Enwyn nodded. “Magic travels in families. The strongest magic seems to wake in girls just after puberty. Magic is rare in males, but not unheard of. When it does manifest in males, it’s usually not as pronounced. Males typically don’t rate for the Academy—they often end up in support roles or as menial magic users. There are a few guys here, but I’m afraid that you, and the rest of them, are going to be outnumbered.”
I looked at Enwyn, back at the collection of beautiful, scantily clad swimmers, and then back at her.
“I can deal.” It came out as a hoarse croak, but it was hard to swallow. Speaking of hard, I shifted my purchases to the front to hide my crotch and adjusted my stance, using the staff to, well, hide my staff.
“Ms. Emberskull.” A teenage boy suddenly appeared behind me. I was so intent on the spectacle in front of me, I completely missed his approach. He wore a white shirt, a black overcoat, and black pants. Kind of plain overall, but the look suited him in a Zorro wannabe sort of way.
“Ah,” Enwyn said. “Please, take Justin’s things; he’s to be a student here.”
“Very good.” The young man bowed and reached for the bags, and I reluctantly handed them over.
There were some guys sprinkled in the mix; long, lean, large, and muscular in a Venice Beach kind of way. The thing they all had in common was that they looked like they were there for a supermodel audition. Waxed chests gleamed and, to my discomfort, a saw at least two guys rocking Speedos you could have used to floss your teeth.
“The women,” I asked Enwyn, “they’re not going to mind that I’m a little more, ah, rugged than these guys, are they?” I scratched at my stubbly jaw. “For one, I’m a shorts man. Secondly, I have serious reservations when it comes to any guy who goes to the trouble of shaving his chest...”
Enwyn laughed. “On the contrary. The more rough and ready human-type is much more exotic in this world. I’d say the women here will find you more attractive than anything.”
“Are they using magic to…look that way?” I asked.
“What way?” Enwyn asked me as my new purchases walked off. The kid hadn’t taken my staff though. I guess it was a rule that you don’t take a man’s pole. Good advice at any time, that.
“Beautiful.” I could not keep the wonder out of my voice. On a scale from one to ten, I suddenly realized that I needed to redefine my scale. There wasn’t a nine in the lot. On the other hand, there were several ten plus. Like the long, slender girl that moved like a bit of down on a soft breeze and seemed to wear the G-string as a reluctant requirement to local modesty. Long legs—so incredibly long—delicate features, up-swept ears…
“Is that an elf?” I exclaimed.
“Yes,” Enwyn laughed. She started pointing. “And there are dwarves, those are halflings, back over there you’ll find a couple of gnomes and…” She looked at the crowd and stood on tiptoe to see better. “Ah. Genna isn’t here today.” She shook her head and shrugged. “Still, the swimming pool isn’t really the most comfortable place for a centaur.”
“Cent—”
“In answer to your question, no, they are not using magic, but magic is responsible for their beauty. Magic is highly prized. When properly employed, it pays very well. It has always been thus. So, magic users have enough income to eat well, pay for medications, and are able to be choosy about who they marry. After a few generations of this”—she indicated the crowd with a wave—“it’s natural that beauty should be a result of their unions.”
With all due respect to Lord of the Rings, dwarf women did not have beards. They were stunning. Built along the lines of an Amazon, with muscular backs and large arms, they looked like they could get hold of a man and never let him free again. As if any right-minded man would want to escape.
The gnome was barely three feet high and looked like a six-foot model Photoshopped down to a size that would fit into an overhead bin on an airplane. The one I was looking at was wearing the skimpiest suit imaginable, and the way she moved made me wish I had my shopping bags back.
Then I saw her. I saw her rich, deep blue skin first. She stretched just as my gaze landed on her.
My God, is that fur?
It was. The gorgeous creature was covered in a fine, dark coat that looked so soft and warm, it made me want to run my fingers over her body and find out what it felt like.
I wasn’t going to last long at the Academy. I could already tell. Becoming a wizard was a great attraction, but with all these girls? Most of them nearly naked at the pool? I’d be lucky to get the first piece of homework done.
Any thought of homework vanished when the blue girl was joined by one that was forest green, with skin that looked like spun silk. My mouth fell open yet again—I was beginning to think I may as well just wander about with the fucking thing hanging open. When she bent over to get her towel, I felt my staff quiver.
“Iowyn! Kryn!” Enwyn called.
The blue and green girls turned and spotted us. They broke into broad smiles and waved.
Enwyn signaled for them to come over. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. The two of them jogging toward us would have had Hugh Hefner applauding from beyond the grave.
“Hi!” they said at the same time, in a delightful chorus.
“Iowyn,” Enwyn said, gesturing to the blue girl.
I could see her better now, being less than a foot from me. She was most definitely covered in fur; thick and luxurious. It looked like the fur on otters I’d seen at the zoo, but it moved more like the fur on a cat. I still wanted to try running a hand through it—around her ass or up her thigh, for preference—to see what it felt like. Purely to satisfy my scientific curiosity, of course.
“Kryn,” Enwyn said, and gestured to the green female figure.
Up close, her skin looked less like silk and more like a fine moss. It glistened as she moved, and damn could she move.
“This is Justin,” Enwyn said, gesturing to me with her hand. “Iowyn and Kryn, Justin just arrived.”
“Just in time
,” Iowyn whispered under her breath as she checked me out.
It seemed that old doozy of a phrase carried across worlds.
Enwyn looked at me and nodded at the other two young women. “These two have only just started here as well. They came to us…” she looked at Iowyn and Kryn expectantly.
“I’ve been at the Academy for about a week,” Kryn said with a dimpled smile, and the most amazing blush tinged that beautiful green of her face. She smiled again, shyly, and glanced away. Despite the texture of her skin, her mouth and eyes looked normal, and extremely inviting. A man could lose himself in those deep eyes—green, of course—and find himself again on those lips.
“It’s almost two for me,” Iowyn said, in a bolder, more confident voice. She stood straighter and prouder and in her little G-string swimsuit, really showing the thing off. Despite the thick fur, there were points in the top part of her suit that proved she had nipples and they were, apparently, highly reactive. Iowyn had the midnight blue eyes and heavy voice that sounded like whiskey tastes. She held out a hand to me. I took it without thinking.
The back of her hand welcomed my thumb, and I felt it drop into the fur. It was as soft as I had imagined. Warm too. I tried not to imagine what it would be like to delve deeper into such a warmth.
Enwyn coughed. It was a stage cough; the kind mothers do when their child is being particularly rude. I let go of Iowyn’s hand quickly. I had no idea how long I’d been holding it.
I mumbled something of an apology, but Kryn was trying not to laugh.
“You’ll have to excuse Justin,” Enwyn said, shaking her head, with a fondly amused expression on her face. “He’s never seen Elementals before.”
“I’m not surprised,” Iowyn said, shrugging. That was a joy to watch too. “There aren’t many around here.”