by Aaron Crash
“How privately?” he asked with a certain glint in his eye. The devil’s dimple appeared on his cheek.
She’d be thinking about him later that night, and she took a minute to appreciate his handsome face. Then she gave him a flinty stare. “Never that privately. Ymir, the truth is, I’ve made it my business to find this guild and expose it. And I have failed, for years on end. It exists, doubtless it does, and it wants you dead.” She thought about mentioning Unger, but her courage failed her.
“So we have to end it first, Princept,” Ymir said. “We’ll be careful. We’ll be watchful. And who knows? Maybe one of us will cast some Flow magic, or maybe have a dream, and we’ll find an answer. Let me say this...before you hire another professor, let me talk with them first. I might be able to tear through the veil to see if they are assassins or not.”
Della thought his phrasing was intentional. Part of her was annoyed he’d try to toy with her like that. Another part liked their banter. “Professor Linnylynn Albatross has taken over as Studia Dux of Moons. For now, we’ll make do. Yes, for any new hire, we’ll both scour their history and their souls. I don’t want you to die on my watch. I said it when I first met you, Ymir, that I think you will be one of the finest men to ever graduate from this school. I expect a lot from you.”
“And I’ve given you a lot, Della.” He smiled. “Excuse me. Most Honored Princept.”
The Princept glared at him, though she had a half smile on her face. “Gharam is right. You are an asshole.”
“Not asshole enough, I guess,” the barbarian said. “Professor Slurp tolerates me enough for beers in StormCry on Thursday nights. Brodor comes with us. Did you know he was divorced?”
“Brodor divorced?” Della didn’t hide her sarcasm. “I’m very surprised. I’m glad you three are friends again. Look after Professor Bootblack. Losing the Ironcoats was hard on him, though I am glad the Morbuskor are still meeting on Thursday nights.”
Ymir nodded. He knew all about the Thursday nights. Tori looked forward to them, though she’d never really fit in with her own people.
The Princept tried not to frown but couldn’t. “By the way, it’s Professor Ssornap, not Professor Slurp.”
“Tell him that.” Then Ymir imitated Gharam a bit too well.
She left him, shaking her head and laughing. Her school was safe. She’d had months of sex with a real person and not just the phantoms of her imagination. And if Ymir wanted to keep his secrets, she’d let him keep them. This was the Majestrial Collegium Universitas. Everyone had their secrets.
Before she went up to her chambers for the night, she stopped by the sand letter room. A stream of sand poured down, endlessly being recycled. In front of the sand fall lay a piece of paper in the tray. She’d gotten a missive from Ssunash, otherwise known as Grass City, on the Blood Steppes.
The sand letter was from Gatha’s father, Shlak, the Chieftain of Ssunash.
Della read the words, and her heart grew cold in her chest. She had to close her eyes. “There has to be a mistake. He’s insane to think I’ll ever fucking agree to this.”
The chieftain wanted to use Old Ironbound as an arena to stop Gulnash the Betrayer. The idea was that instead of war between the Gruul, there would be gladiatorial contests that could stop the rogue orc from continuing his butchery. And not just any normal Pit battles, but the Kurzig Durgha—a death grudge tournament.
Della had no idea why the orcs would want to hold their battles at her school, but after everything that had happened, she wouldn’t permit it. She might not have a choice, though. The Alumni Consortium had been worried about Gulnash for years now.
The Princept noticed that Shlak hadn’t said a word about Gatha in his letter, nor had he sent his daughter a letter. Then again, the she-orc librarian never got any mail. She’d been igptoor by choice, and that made her as much of an outcast as Ymir or Jennybelle.
Thinking of the Josentown princess made Della wonder how that Jenny girl was going to pay her tuition. She’d likely have to enroll in a work study program to stay.
Della saw a big glass of wine in her future. She had to respond to the chieftain of Ssunash, but she had no idea what she could possibly say to the Gruul lord to make him change his mind. That piece of business could wait.
She would distract herself with a little pleasure. Yes, Ymir would play into her fantasies, but so too would his growing harem. Della spent the evening lost in pleasure and fantasy. She slept well. The future, in the end, would take care of itself.
Oddly enough, she knew if there were any real problems, Ymir would be there to help her. The thought brought her comfort. It shouldn’t.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
YMIR WATCHED DELLA continue her climb up the Sea Stair. He’d been waiting for Ziziva’s shop to empty of customers. It didn’t take long because the cold stone shelves on the right were empty of xocalati. He’d waited a couple of weeks to see if the Fayee would come to him, to either make a deal or to kill him. All of the fairies at the school gave him a wide berth, including Professor Lolazny Lyla and Tori’s roommate, Zorynda Gold.
But now it was time for him to make an offer.
Thankfully his sea cell had survived the Fractal Clock explosion. That magic item was interesting. It was almost as if it had been designed to work with the Akkiric Rings. Tori had seen the vempor wearing rings. Were they just jewelry? What was the vempor’s relationship with the magic items?
Ymir walked across the street and pushed through the door of the xocalati shop. The bell tinkled. Ziziva was on her pedestal, which took up the right side of the counter. She sat at her desk, doing paperwork. Behind her, hidden by a gauzy curtain, Nan Honeysweet rocked back and forth, humming to herself.
“Ziziva,” the golem called out in her grandma voice, “we have a customer!”
“No, we don’t, Nan.” The fairy sighed.
Ymir turned the open sign to closed. He walked to the counter, keeping his arms at his side. “Hello, Ziziva, I don’t want to waste your time. I have both xoca powder and xoca butter. I’d be willing to sell them to you for a fair price. You were dealing with the merfolk, and those deals are gone.”
The fairy laid a tiny pen down. She leaned back in her chair. “Ymir, that’s not all that you want, is it?”
“I like it better when you rhyme and giggle,” he said.
“Let’s cut the shit, clansman.” Ziziva sighed again. “You saved your school, yes, and you kept our secret, which we appreciate, and yes, you remember everything, don’t you?” She stood and walked to the edge of her pedestal. Her wings were drooping.
Ymir was witnessing her defeat, and it wasn’t as satisfying as he would’ve thought. Watching Marrib strut off to die had been better. “I remember everything, Ziziva. It was very good with you, Jenny, and I.”
A little glow lit Ziziva’s cheeks. “The Jenny girl has tig ol’ bitties.” The giggle returned, so it wasn’t all compete elkshit. She sobered. “You have to give us a fair price, Ymir, for your powder. Don’t be cruel!”
“I’m afraid I have to be cruel,” he said. “Tori has come up with an idea for other xocalati products, and we want you to sell them here, like xoca kaif and xoca puff corn. Gatha is curious to see if we can make xoca sweet cream. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to make xoca naynay.”
The giggle was gone. So was the blush. Ziziva had turned cold. “What in the fuck is naynay?”
“Salted ground nuts, cooked in fat, from the tundra,” Ymir said. “Suffice to say, you will get a cut of anything we sell here, so don’t worry. If our partnership goes well, we might consider selling the Amora Xoca here.”
Ziziva clasped her arms behind her back and paced. She stopped and lifted her cute little face to look into his eyes. “I knew I’d hate you, Ymir, and I’ve hated you for a long time now. I also knew I’d love you the second you walked through that door. What we did in the shower, we should do again. That Tori has big tits as well. You have a thing for titties?”
�
��I like women of all kinds,” he replied. From his satchel, he pulled a little booklet, which Gatha helped bind. He laid the booklet on her miniature desk. “This is the contract for the xocalati business. This doesn’t have anything to do with the Fayee and what I know. As long as you don’t come after me, I won’t come after you.”
Ziziva buzzed into the air for the first time, wings whirring. “Why would we come after you, yummy Ymir? Why would we risk everything? You’re not that important.” She smiled and spun, filling the air with the sweet smell of her kind.
Ymir crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t think many people on Thera know how often the Fayee remove memories. There are many rumors about fairies and their draconian business practices, but they’re just rumors. No one has written anything definitive. I could. I won’t. As long as you don’t fuck with me. Are you going to fuck with me?”
Ziziva floated in front of him. “Put out your palm, Ymir, like you did when we first met.”
He put out his hand. He’d come in protected with Obanathy cantrips, but this was risky. It was a gamble he was willing to take. The contract was a lot fairer than it needed to be. Both he and the Majestrial Fayee could make a lot of money working together.
The blond fairy settled on his hand. Her wings shivered once and stopped. “I could try casting a spell on you. I could try poisoning you. In return, right now, you could try crushing me in your hand. We could fight, and it would be a battle indeed. Yes, you are unique, and we’ve talked of you often. We will have a truce, for now. You will not tell Della Pennez or anyone else about our duplicity. You might not believe it, but we were in talks with Marrib that would’ve prevented violence. Giving him the Fractal Clock was vital to our negotiations. We did risk much, but there was much to gain. I don’t mean profits.”
“I’ve told my princesses,” Ymir said. “I won’t tell anyone else, and neither will they. I’ve also been teaching them cantrips, so they’ll be protected from scrying. We will keep your secrets safe. It looks like we’re going to be business partners after all.”
“Maybe, baby.” Ziziva walked across his palm. Her tiny feet tickled him. She moved to his thumb, bent, and kissed it. He watched her body move—her wings, her hips, her ass. “You can’t believe me. I know. And we can’t trust you, ever. These are dangerous times, Ymir. The Age of Isolation is ending. There are forces at work that would threaten to end everything we have worked for.”
She flew off his hand and landed on his shoulder. She grabbed his ear in two strong fists, laughing. “So big. Everything about you is so big. We know things about the Midnight Guild. We have our sources that can warn us if they send another assassin. We can be friends. We can be more. If you play it right, I can be your whore.” She giggled.
She fluttered off him and returned to the pedestal. “You did say you liked it when I giggled and rhymed.”
Ymir felt a little dizzy, and it wasn’t magic. He’d been hit twice in the last two seconds—the fairies might be able to give him more information about the Midnight Guild. And his conversation with Ziziva had taken a dirty turn.
She got dirtier. She stood there, breathing hard, glowing a little. Her nipples poked through her shimmering gown. She pulled up her dress to show the golden tuft of hair between her legs. She slid her finger down to her little ohi. “Oh, Ymir, you do make my honeypot flow. My cooter is so slippery and sweet now. Just saying the word ‘whore’ makes me want to be a whore.”
“Today is about business, Z,” Ymir said. “Sign the contract. We’ll talk more. And maybe we’ll get together for some giggles and rhymes.”
“I think we will, yummy Ymir. I think we will. We’ll go over the numbers. We’ll be in touch.” Ziziva put her dress back down. She flew across the room, turned the sign over, and then flew around him, escorting him out.
Before he left, she came close and kissed his lips. His nose drank in her sweet scent. It was odd, her little lips on his, but then she was giggling again, and he took that as a good sign. It sounded genuine.
He left the fairy-run shop with a bulge in his pants. He was confident Ziziva and her business partners would sign the contract. It would be more work for him and his princesses, but they had their own kitchen, the Amora Annex, to do the cooking. It was close enough to The Paradise Tree so deliveries wouldn’t be a problem.
As for unraveling the mystery of the Midnight Guild? It felt too good to be true. When it came to fairies, he had to tread very carefully.
The night was warm, the crowds in the taverns happy, and the air was alive with the smells of the ocean and women. They were all going to gather in Jenny’s apartment that night to celebrate the end of the Third Exam week. Ymir, again, had fun with the testing.
This test had to do with another one of the Vempor Aegel Akkridor’s campaigns, and he’d dealt with paper armies again. Ironically, this exam had him working with a Rendlim Funnel. He’d needed the pure water to mix with vomorr powder to neutralize a caldrix acid pool. That allowed his forces to cross the Blood Steppes where they defeated an army of paper Gruul. Ymir had to quote from one of the general’s speeches the night before the battle, the famous “Tree of Destiny” speech from one of Willmur Swordwrite’s histories. Cantrips were involved, and there had been a wooden golem that Ymir had to fight to a standstill, a literal standstill since the solution to the puzzle was freezing the golem in place with a Flow cantrip.
So, once again, Ymir and his friends had passed the latest exams. They had a lot to be happy about. Lillee, though, didn’t just want a party. She wanted to have sex, a lot of sex, and not just with Ymir but with the other princesses in their life.
Four women. Ymir stopped in the middle of the Flow courtyard to ponder that for a minute. He had four women who wanted him and each other. Now that Tori confirmed the Amora Xoca worked to awaken her Inconvenience, she didn’t need to leave once Lillee took off her cuff. Jenny loved all the sex, and Gatha had a filthy imagination, which made sense, given her love of erotica.
Thinking of the she-orc, Ymir strode into the Librarium Citadel to find her so they could walk to Jenny’s apartment together.
On a Saturday night after exams, the Librarium was empty. There was someone there, up on the second floor, at his normal table. With her dark skin and curls, that was Linnylynn Albatross. The strange woman waved to him.
Gatha might be down in the Scrollery. If, so, he had a little time. Ymir walked up the stairs and sat down across the table from the Moons professor. She wore her school robes. Her delicate hand lay on a black book.
“I know it’s not common knowledge, but congratulations on the Studia Dux position,” Ymir said.
The Williminaville professor smiled. “It only took months on end, and several murders, but here I am.” She raised her hand from the book to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, that sounds cruel. I don’t mean to joke about death.”
Ymir laughed. This woman was so very awkward. “I don’t mind. We should joke about everything in life, and that includes shitting, sex, and death. Much of it is ridiculous.”
She exhaled her relief. “Thank goodness you understand. I’m nervous about us talking. I’ve put this off, but I can’t, not any longer. Your life was in danger. I know that.”
Suddenly, this little meeting had taken a dark turn. He was on his guard. He’d lie and pretend he had no idea what she was talking about. Lying was the main strategy in the games these southerners played. “Yes, the merfolk are dangerous. That battle could’ve gone either way.”
“I don’t mean that,” the professor said carefully. “I know about the assassin sent to murder you. I thought she was from the Silent Scream, but now, I believe, she was from another organization that wants you dead.”
Ymir didn’t answer right away. She was talking about Hayleesia Heenn, using the singular and the female pronoun. “My life has been in danger,” he agreed. “But I believe the worst is behind me. I’ve been very careful, and I’ve learned to control my magic well, and that includes Flow magic.
”
Linny glanced around. “I am afraid. Can I be honest with you, Ymir?”
“I don’t think you can lie very well. So please.”
She swallowed as if her mouth was very dry. “I have consulted the spirits, the orishas, and they are watching. You mustn’t tell anyone, but my interest in demonology isn’t exactly academic, though I am careful. I have to be. I think you need to be careful as well when it comes to the darker forces in the world.”
“There are many things on the Stair that would destroy us.” Ymir used language the strange professor would appreciate.
“Yes, the Stair, which leads to all worlds everywhere. Yes.” Her dark brown eyes glittered. “That is what I think. Some of those worlds have demons, others have angels, still other heroes. The orishas of our world are helpful, I think, and they want you to continue your work on the Akkiric Rings. They’ve told me that. They requested I give you this book.” She slid it over to him.
The cover was leather with iron bindings. On it was a single word in ancient Theranus.
He nodded. “Circulum. I know this book from the Keez Forta Index. There is no known author, and some believe it was transcribed by a madman before he was killed by the very demons he summoned. You didn’t get this from the Illuminates Spire, did you?”
The woman shook her head, making her curls dance. “No, never. I would never steal a book from there, though I now have access because I’m a Studia Dux. This is a copy from friends of mine.” She paused. “We call ourselves the White Rose Society. We want to make the world better, Ymir. And we want to help you.”
Ymir nodded to show he was listening, but he didn’t reply.
The professor again glanced around. “If you need me, if you need help with your special projects, please come and see me. I have resources. I have knowledge. And again, I’m careful. Dealing with the orishas is difficult because they are not human. They have strange ways about them, though I don’t believe they want to do us harm. I think they merely want to be helpful.”