by Aaron Crash
He smelled the smoke, saw the flickering candlelight in the windows, and noticed the pile of apartments flashing by on his left. On his right, there were only the dark cliffs.
Ymir knew what to do. He pointed his toes down, raised his arms above his head, and gripped his battle ax tightly. He struck the water, a cold darkness.
Kicking upward, he found the surface. Yes, it was chilly, but with the adrenaline flooding him, he hardly felt a thing. He swam southward but only for a short distance.
A boat floated over to him. Jenny worked the oars while Lillee knelt in the bow. She threw him a rope, and he pulled himself over.
Jenny tossed out orders. “Lillee, get to the far side of the boat and pretend you weigh about a hundred and fifty pounds more than you do. Ymir, you’ll get in on the opposite side. If fate is kind, we won’t capsize.” Of course she knew about watercraft. She’d grown up paddling through the marshes out to the open ocean of the Swamp Coast.
Ymir tossed his ax in and heaved himself up and over. He lay at the bottom in the stench of old fish, surrounded by dank nets and rusted tackle. There were three benches: aft, middle, and bow.
“Don’t fuck up the boat,” Jenny cursed from the aft seat. “I’m renting this tub, and the fisherman won’t like it if it comes back scratched.”
A thirsty Ymir sat up, shivering a bit. “I don’t suppose you two brought water.”
“We can get good and drunk, like you did last night, once we finish crafting this ring.” Jenny worked the oars, pushing them over the swells, which were dangerously close to breaking. Any one of the waves might swamp them.
Lillee found a wooden flask and tossed it to him. He uncorked it and smelled wine. He guzzled it down. “You’ll have to pay the fisherman a bit extra.”
Jenny sighed. “Story of my life. I do like expensive things.”
Candlelight, lantern lights, and Sunfire torches gleamed on the western cliffs of Vempor’s Cape. The twinkling lights were like beautiful gems glittering on black cloth.
The Sunfire Tower wasn’t on fire anymore, but the bells still pealed.
Ymir tried to stand, but Jenny shouted him down. “Don’t tip us, barbarian. Just find a seat and be patient.”
“Let me row,” he said. “I’ll get us there much quicker.”
“I’m doing fine.” Jenny grunted, pulling on the oars.
“For now,” he growled. He sat on the middle seat with Lillee. She clutched his hand in hers.
He had to pull away gently. “I froze my hands, burned them, and then punched Gharam in his tusk. That didn’t help.”
The Sullied elf touched the ring on his right hand. “So far, it’s worked.”
“So far.” A glance at the sky showed him the moons, directly above. They had to hurry.
He was through being patient. He crawled over and ejected Jenny from the back of the boat. He then took over and worked the oars, getting into a rhythm. Again, the seasons he’d spent near Summertown were helping him. He and his battle brothers had been curious about boats, and so took turns, with some very kind fishermen, who were probably just grateful that the clansmen hadn’t simply killed them and taken their ships.
They rode the waves around the tip of the cape. The lighthouse glowed at the center of the AngelTeeth Islands.
Lillee found a new hand to hold. The two women huddled close together. Jenny curled a strand of hair around her finger, relapsing back into her nervous habit. She was clearly tense.
“You’ll want to oar us over to the leeward side of them rocks,” the swamp woman said to Ymir.
“What’s leeward?”
Jenny shook her head at him. “The sheltered side, away from the wind and waves. The AngelTeeth catch the waves, protecting the bay from the worst of the surf. We don’t want to be on the other side.”
“Obviously.” Ymir brought them up to the hunk of rock just north of the StormLight’s tower, the same island he’d passed the night before with the drunk boatman.
Jenny grimaced. “Ouch, Lillee, don’t hold my hand so tightly. We’ll be okay.”
“I can swim, but not well,” the Sullied elf said. “And I’m fearful of boats.”
“I can swim good enough for the both of us. I spent so much time in the ocean growing up, I’d give the merfolk a run for their money.” Jenny deftly leapt onto a smooth rock of the island. She had the bow line with her. She found a hook hammered into the stone and tied them off.
Both Ymir and the swamp woman helped get Lillee off the ship, drifting and bumping against the wet rocks, splattered with bird droppings.
The three hiked up to the top, which leveled off to a flat surface, dotted with pools, all glowing. At the very tip, they found the biggest pool glowing like a third moon. It was the one Ymir had seen.
Both moons were so big, so bright, it was almost daylight.
A strange scent broke through the spray of salt. The odor was familiar—a perfume, not sweet like Jenny’s, but different. And it wasn’t Lillee’s musky scent.
He wasn’t sure what he was smelling. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Ymir shook off all doubts. Grandfather Bear’s words came to him. Aim, kill, clean, then eat. Do one thing at a time until you are done.
The three stepped around the smaller pools to get to the big pool glowing at the very tip. The two moons were reflected in the ocean on either side of the island.
“Three moons.” Lillee raised her face. “And we have a wind.”
Yes, a chill wind blew out of the west.
Jenny again pulled the parchment out. “Now, for the final spell.”
She thrust the paper to Ymir. He took it. Lillee stepped forward and fire rose from her palm, giving him enough light to read. The elf had been casting a lot of spells, and though they were simple enough, using the magic was wearing on her. If any one of them cast too many spells, they’d die.
Ymir lifted his right hand, the one wearing the ring, into the air as he recited the second incantation. With each word, the wind grew in force, the ocean waves crashed harder, and the three moons brightened. “The wind in the Flow, the moonlight on the snow, the warm moons three whispering in the never-freezing sea, the magical ice of lightning frozen, and even in the coldest of stone tombs, there is the warm light of the living heart.”
The parchment was ripped from Ymir’s grip, and it fluttered away. Wind caught him, and he felt his magic freeze as he floated off the rock. The ring on his right finger was colder than anything he’d ever felt before, colder than the Crack on his way to the Lonely Man’s cave, colder than his ax after the darkest, longest winter night on the tundra.
Ice crackled down from his hand to cover him. As he frosted over, he knew all he needed to do was to accept that living ice into his soul, his dusza, and then he could shatter it easily. It wouldn’t kill him. He’d be free of the magic.
Lillee clutched at his legs. Jenny, though, had climbed to the tip of the rock to face him, watching. Her face was so pale against her midnight mane.
What did this woman want him to do?
He only had seconds left to make up his mind.
Lillee wept and clutched at him. In many ways, Lillee was a simple, heartbroken woman who only wanted a life of study, work, and love. Being marked then exiled by her people had wiped away her ambition.
Jennybelle Josen, though, had exiled herself. She had chosen a life of conquest, and for that, she needed a warrior to fight for her...to fight with her. Since she wasn’t the Firstborn, she would never be queen.
She would need to build her own empire to rule. To do that, she had to break free of her fate.
That was her destiny.
It was also his.
He’d been taught to hate magic, to fear it, to shun it. That all would’ve been fine if he’d stayed with the Black Wolf Clan. But he wasn’t with the tundra clans any longer. He didn’t have battle brothers, nor a father, nor a parent of any kind.
He was alone. He was cursed.
In the same breath, he wa
sn’t alone, and he was blessed.
Ymir had made an oath not to fail these two women. To fulfill that oath, he needed every advantage, every weapon. And magic was a powerful weapon.
He was no longer a clansman. Now, he was something else—a barbarian with magic who had found a new family, new friends, so he would never become the Lonely Man.
“Jelu inanis!” he roared.
Yes, he felt the coldness, on his spine, on his finger, in his heart. The ring was now connected to his dusza, and it helped him focus his power like nothing else. Instead of a wild wind inside of him, the magic felt like an arrow nocked to the string of a bow. And he could fire that arrow wherever he wished.
The skin of ice shattered. He dropped to the stones. He caught the fall on his strong legs. Lillee gripped him, hard, while Jenny watched from her perch.
The wind turned warm, and the sea stopped its restless pounding for a moment. All was still.
“You didn’t destroy your dusza,” Jenny said.
He shook his head. “I will learn to control this magic in me. I will use it to cut my own path, and damn the Ax. And damn the Axman.”
“A path for you.” Jenny nodded. “A path for us.” She smiled at him. “You swore to never fail us. And you didn’t.”
“I never will,” Ymir agreed. “Let the world tremble in fear for what us three will do to it.”
Lillee was silent through the entire exchange, holding him so tightly, like it would kill her to let go.
Good. He liked her clinging to him.
“It is touching,” a voice called out. Stone ground on stone as something rose out of the ocean. The strange perfume followed.
The voice, the sound, the smell—Ymir recognized them all.
Lillee stepped back in surprise as he whirled.
There, on the rocks, stood Professor Siteev Ckins’s coral golem. Every eye was open, and crabs raced from hole to hole. Siteev herself floated above the crashing waves to the west. She wore a black dress and black boots, both accented with white lace. Her clothes were like her hair, salted and peppered. The Focus ring on her right hand gleamed white, then blue, the colors of Moons magic.
He’d smelled her perfume. He should’ve remembered it.
“You gave us the parchment,” Jenny said from behind him.
“I did.” The professor nodded and laughed. “Ymir never made any oaths to me. Should I feel left out?” The woman smirked even better than Odd Corry, and that was saying something.
Rage filled Ymir. She’d had every opportunity to be honest with him, but she’d never said a word about the Black Ice Ring. Why?
A wave reached and parted around Siteev so she wouldn’t get wet. When the wave crashed, she was lost for a moment in the foam and mist.
When she appeared, the professor was still smirking. “I will tell the Princept I followed you here, and that I begged you to come back to Old Ironbound so we could punish you. Your little girlfriends joined you, and you all three tried to kill me. You see, some believe the Akkiric Rings are evil, old necromancy from a vanished age. Others disagree. But then I wonder why the grimoire is kept locked away in the Illuminates Spire? We’ll go with the former story about it being evil. You created the ring, and it poisoned your souls.”
Both Lillee and Jenny didn’t move. Had fear frozen them? That seemed unlikely. Both were waiting on him. They’d follow his lead.
As for the ring being evil? He didn’t think so. He felt fine, clear-headed, and powerful. More than that, he had a real fight in front of him. Finally, he’d be able to spill blood again, and though he’d never killed a woman, Siteev had proven herself villain enough to deserve his ax. He did wonder if the coral golem would bleed when he struck it.
But first, he hoped to get some answers from the treacherous professor.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I WANT TO KNOW MORE.” Ymir crossed his arms over his chest. His battle ax was still in the boat. He took a step toward the edge of the island.
Jenny slowly slid the Sapphire Fang out of its sheath. Lillee shivered. He wasn’t sure what the elf girl would do in the coming fight. They weren’t in the same Classic Warfare class together. However, she had passed the First Exam, so she’d been able to defeat the paper warrior somehow.
“You want to know more?” Siteev laughed. She drifted closer. The froth from the crashing wave ran off in rivulets to bubble around her. So she was being protected by magic, Moons magic probably, since that was her specialty. She could cast other kinds of sorcery, however. She’d used Form magic to create the golem.
The professor didn’t seem like she was in a hurry to murder them. “You know, Ymir, what makes you special also makes you dangerous.”
“So you wanted to remove the danger?” Ymir was torn. If he went for his ax in the boat, he’d be leaving the two women alone to face both Siteev and her coral golem. The clansman had his hatchet. It would have to suffice.
“I was giving you what you wanted,” the professor said. She was ten feet from them, her face lit by the glow of her Focus ring. “You wanted to be free from your dusza. I gave you the magic item that would’ve solved all our problems. You would’ve lost your place in history, certainly, but that wouldn’t be an issue for anyone, really. The Age of Isolation would continue.”
“Then why sleep with me?” the clansman asked.
Jenny scoffed. “Because you didn’t matter, Ymir. She could play all she wanted with you. You’d finish the Black Ice Ring and destroy your magic, or she’d be forced to kill you. Either way, you were as disposable as a glass phallus.”
“But so much warmer.” Siteev grinned. “The Swamp Coast bitch has it right. She was never very friendly with me, but her friend Nellybelle Tucker was so sweet, and so helpful, and so very informed. Until she cursed you with that toad spell. That was a shame. We were thinking of recruiting her.”
“We?” Ymir wondered.
“We. That is all you need to know.” Sighing, the professor shook her head. “I really thought you’d get rid of your magic, but I’m glad I flew out here to check.”
“Again, the ‘we,’” Ymir mused. “Does that include the Princept or other professors at Old Ironbound?”
Siteev’s eyes were cold, nearly lifeless. Her smile was colder. “I won’t say more about my friends and the good we are trying to do for all of Thera.”
“Then we’re done talking. Jelu inanis!” Ymir could use Flow magic to turn off his own magic. This time, he tried it on Siteev. A shadow rose up from the Black Ice Ring, covering his hand. He flung that shadow out, and it became a wave of rippling energy. The darkness struck Siteev, and her shield spell failed. She fell into the surf, screaming until she splashed into the water. Perhaps the ocean would bash her brains out against the rocks. If only they were that lucky.
“Ymir! I’ll get your ax!” Lillee pinwheeled and dove into the water near the boat.
Jenny gripped her dagger in her right hand. She held out her left hand, palm up. “I can do one more spell, Ymir, maybe two, but crafting that ring nearly emptied me.”
The coral golem stomped up the rocks toward them, splashing through pools. The crabs clung to their rocky holes as it crashed forward. The eyes glared at him as its arms came loose from its body. Its hands were knobby clubs covered with dried seaweed. One strike would turn his bones to jelly.
And he had its mistress to contend with. Siteev was still alive, clearly, since her golem still had life.
The monster towered over Ymir as it threw a punch. He dodged to the side, and the fist smashed into the rock. At the same time, a crab leapt from the thing’s chest to land on Ymir’s shoulder. Pinchers stabbed into his neck. He flung it off while narrowly avoiding the golem’s next blows.
He was forced back, skirting the moon pool. Jenny stood at the pinnacle of the slender island.
Other crabs leapt, and he batted them away with his hatchet.
Siteev floated out of the water, shrieking, “Caelum caelarum!” Lightning danced between he
r knuckles before the crackling light arced away from her, reaching for him and Jenny.
“Jelu jelarum!” Jenny cried out.
A fist of water caught the lightning, dispelling the energy in the sea splash.
Ymir hurled himself at the golem. He scrambled up a leg, found a nice hole for his left hand, and drove his hatchet into one eye and then another. His ax squealed off stone before finding the squishy innards of the thing’s strange sockets.
It reached out with an arm to catch him, but Ymir was quick enough to swing onto the appendage. He found more eyes on the left limb of the thing, and he either chopped into them or rammed the butt of his hatchet into the holes.
The monster tried to brush him off with its big, club-like right hand. Again, Ymir was too quick. He climbed up onto the square top of the thing—it had no head to speak of—and then dropped off to land on the stones behind it.
Lillee yelled, “Ymir!” She tossed him his battle ax.
He let his hatchet clatter to the wet stone to catch the double-bladed war weapon. Yes, now he could fight in earnest. He hacked through the stone to take out one of the golem’s back eyes. Fluid dripped down over the stone. More crabs flew from the creature. He either ducked them or batted them away while chopping out eye after eye.
Siteev cast another spell, picking up Jenny in a whirlwind. The princess didn’t cry out. She gulped at the air, trying to get a breath in, but she couldn’t. The wind was going to suffocate her.
“You will die, you pathetic thing,” Siteev hissed at the swamp woman. “At least you sampled the barbarian during your brief time. Or I hope you did. Your poor sister. At least you won’t have to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. I’ll kill you so your auntie’s assassins won’t have to.”
Lillee flung out both hands. A wall of ice reached out of the ocean, smashing into Siteev and freeing Jenny. “Never!” she yelled. The professor lost her magic and plummeted down onto the stones of the island.
Jenny dropped with her. Her dagger went bouncing into one of the pools. The swamp woman lunged forward, scrambling to get her weapon. Even though she’d nearly died, Jenny wasn’t out of the fight. Ymir liked that steel in her.