Princesses of the Ironbound Boxset: Books 1 - 3 (Barbarian Outcast, Barbarian Assassin, Barbarian Alchemist)

by Aaron Crash

  He couldn’t quite see all the words, but he did see that the item could be found in the Scrolls of Octovato. Octo was “eight” in the ancient Theranus. There were eight rings of Akkridor.

  He had a current bibliography of all the books in the Librarium. Every few years, the Librarium updated their listings. He found where the Scrolls of Octovato were stored. He frowned. They were in the Scrollery, the dungeon under the Librarium Citadel. They’d be in the shelves reserved for authors whose names begin with O. To get the scrolls, he would need special permission, and that meant the Princept might learn he was once again walking into forbidden territory. He couldn’t have that.

  Alternatively, he could find a librarian to help him. They could sneak the scrolls out long enough for him to make a copy.

  He’d only gotten close to one of the librarians, and that was the she-orc who hated him. Or was it some kind of strange she-orc love? Either way, her strong emotions had cooled. She was still and unplayful.

  By the time Ymir was finished, Gatha wasn’t at her normal station. He had to return his books to a mousy little blond woman, from the Sorrow Coast Kingdom, who had a drippy red nose whenever he saw her. Ymir had forgotten her name because she was forgetful. He thought of her as Drippy. She was very friendly with the Princept, so he couldn’t ask her for help getting the forbidden text from the Scrollery.

  He had some food squirreled away in his cell in the sea alley. He’d eat there, review the few notes he’d inscribed into his grimoire via the sand parchment, and go to bed early. The next day, classes began again, and he’d be busy cleaning, attending lectures, and studying. He’d make finding coal and parchment his number one priority. He wanted the name of that artifact that could be found in the Scrolls of Octovato.

  He thought of stopping by Jennybelle’s apartment, but it was too dangerous now that the students had returned. Jenny was probably with Nelly right then, gossiping, talking, and trying to act normal. Those women played games of masks, poison, and lies. Soon, however, Jenny wouldn’t have to.

  Jenny. Something was making her scream in her sleep. He wondered what it was.

  Ymir threw his hood over his head and walked through the world of rain, down the Sea Stair, and through the market. The taverns had filled, and the laughter drew him in. No, he’d get a joint of beef and a big tankard of ale, and maybe he’d throw some cards. A low stakes game of Seven Devils would relax him.

  Before he went into the Unicorn’s Uht, he noticed a line of scholars congesting traffic on the stair. They were all waiting their turn to go into The Paradise Tree.

  Lights inside flashed, from Ziziva probably, selling candies with a flourish. He hoped the Fayee girl and Nan enjoyed their profits while they could. He was going to take a bite out of them. The very idea made him happy.

  He ate, he drank, he played river deck games with his old friend Charlotte the Harlot and some of her upperclassmen friends. They kept the bets mainly to copper shecks, though the limit was five silvers. No one wanted to win or lose that much, or perhaps their cards weren’t kind to them. Nevertheless, Ymir enjoyed his evening.

  He stayed out too late and went to bed well after one.

  He was delighted to find Lillee under his bear blanket, asleep, with her essess on her left arm. He’d let her sleep. Maybe in the morning he’d slip the cuff off her. It was always such a wonder to watch her sexuality come alive once the piece of jewelry was gone.

  The elf girl woke up enough to kiss him and whisper, “Jennybelle can get us xoca beans.” She then fell asleep.

  That was unfair. Ymir laid awake, happy, curious, and excited about the business he was about to launch. It wasn’t just the money involved. It felt more important than that. It felt like an adventure, and he knew Tori would help them. Somehow, he knew.

  Probably Flow magic.

  “Fucking magic,” he growled to himself.

  Lillee slept on.

  Chapter Eight

  LILLEE FELT YMIR COME to bed late that last night of the Solstice holiday break. When she woke, he was already gone, having left early for work study. She was disappointed. She’d wanted to slip off her essess to be with him, but she’d felt so tired, and she loved how warm and cozy she felt under his bear blanket in the damp cell.

  She was so glad she didn’t have to get up early to work. That had been the deal he’d made with the Princept. Gurla had switched some workers around because Darisbeau and Odd Corry only agreed to cover their work until Solstice break. That left Lillee to slowly wake up, alone, and to return to her cell, bringing Ymir’s bear blanket with her. She was still working on the drawings of the Morbuskor couple, the half-elf, and the woman with the piles of dark curls on her head and her angelically cute face.

  The elf girl gathered up her things in her room and stuck them in her school satchel. She had the Knowing mirror, which had her new schedule on it. She had her grimoire, her sand parchment, and the pen and inkwell. All went into the bag, along with her drawing pencils, her sketchbook, and some erasers. She could work more on her pictures in the feasting hall. Getting there early, she could get her favorite seat.

  After breakfast and kaif, the day would get busy. Her first class of the day was the Flow lectures with Professor Issa Leel. That Ohlyrran woman was sickened by the sight of Lillee. The elf girl hated how the professor’s eyes always migrated up her face to look at the mark of the Sullied on her left temple. Already, she was so conscious of the stylized “S” marking her as being weak, wanton, and out of control.

  The memories of her final days at home threatened to destroy her. They were as bad as that fiery spring night when she’d lost both Jayla Jereenn and the Cult of Chaos and Desire.

  The elf girl pushed the memories out of her mind. Ymir’s grandmother might have some piece of wisdom for her, but there were times when Lillee didn’t want to be wise. She simply wanted to escape, and she found it in her writing, her drawing, and her singing. There she could find peace, and let the seven devils devour all of Raxid, every continent, for all she cared.

  Lillee took a wooden tray and went to the counter to get some eggs, potatoes, and orange slices, which she loved. The Ohlyrran Forests, east of the Sunrise Mountains, were full of orchards, heavy with apples and pears. Oranges were rarer. The seasonal fruit grew down on the Viridis Peninsula, still ruled by her father in Greenhome, but the merchants there had been wooed by the Undergem Guild in Panseloca, on the Barrier River, the easternmost city of the Holy Theranus Empire. The oranges most often went west, not north, and so that made them special.

  There, on her stepladder, was Ymir’s friend, the Morbuskor maid, Toriah Welldeep. The dwab had always been cool to Lillee, and Lillee expected the usual treatment.

  Toriah, or Tori to her friends, Lillee supposed, smiled with the most beautiful, eye-crinkling smile the elf girl had ever seen. It was like an inner sunlight lit up the little woman. “It’s Lillee, right? Ymir and I talked yesterday, about you and Jenny, this, that, and the other thing. What can I get you?”

  Lillee didn’t know how to respond right away. This was so unexpected. “Is it Toriah? Or Tori. I think. When I worked for Gurla, someone referred to you as Tori. I don’t want to call you the wrong name. Our names are important.”

  “Tori, I think, is fine. Your hair is beautiful today, like spun platinum, and braided. Did you braid it yourself?” The little woman’s eyes twinkled.

  “I did.” Lillee felt so self-conscious. She only did two quick braids, which she bound with a ribbon behind her head. She wore her cape and tunic and her sandals. And of course, the essess.

  The little woman was so cheery, so happy, and so pretty. And Lillee couldn’t help but admire the cleavage. Tori had bigger breasts than even Jennybelle, and Jenny was very well endowed. Lillee felt like a vineyard pole compared to her.

  The essess kept her lust at bay, yet Lillee knew if she took it off, the fantasies would come. How would it feel to kiss this woman, so much shorter and so much wider than she was? What would those
legs feel like in her hands, or those strong arms?

  The thoughts were easy to dismiss, thanks to the forearm cuff.

  “But you, Tori, have the most wonderful red hair. It’s like fire. It’s like the sunset. You’re so striking.” Lillee glanced behind her. No one was coming, and so they had some time to chat.

  The cheery girl laughed. “And they say dwarves and elves hate each other. No, I’ll tell you, the Morbuskor hate the Gruul far more. Yep, it’s funny, but the old gods decided to make us opposites of each other in almost every way. Elves are for art, living their carefree lives in the forests, tall and thin. While the Morbuskor, gosh me underground, but we’re short, and wide, and we work the earth and make contraptions of all kinds.”

  “Knowing Lore,” Lillee said quietly. She didn’t point out that the Ohlyrra worked just as hard on their art, in their forest homes. If Tori was going to be friendly, Lillee would let her.

  “Yes, Knowing Lore,” the dwab said agreeably. “We’re opposites, but we can be friends, and rather than be in competition, we can complement one another. I think that is the idea.”

  “I like that,” Lillee said quietly. “We can complement one another.”

  “Bless my stone bits we can.” Tori started to scoop up items for Lillee. “I love working in the kitchen, and, yes, it’s a lot of work, but I like to chat with people. We have folks from all over Thera here, including some merfolk, which makes me a bit nervous. You know how they are. But I won’t talk bad about races. Maybe about orcs, and probably fairies, and a little bit about merfolk, but I’m sure most of those people are fine. Mostly.”

  She worked while she talked and set the good tin plates on Lillee’s tray.

  Lillee did feel like Tori’s opposite. She spoke so much and seemed so at ease in the conversation. Lillee rarely felt that social.

  Other scholars headed over. Tori smiled. “Ymir is lucky to have you. And I won’t mention the other person, but she’s lucky too. I was jealous, I’ll admit it, but I’m over him. I hope you’re happy, Lillee, I really do.”

  Lillee thought she meant it. There didn’t seem to be any barbs, but there was a bit of sadness in the little woman’s eyes, just a hint that most people might not catch.

  “You’ll find happiness too,” Lillee said softly. “I thought I wouldn’t either. With what I am. With where I am from. But it will end, won’t it? Ymir is human. He only has a few more decades. You and I have centuries. I think about that sometimes.” The elf girl was shocked at herself for being so honest.

  Tori was quiet, her eyes searching her face. “Oh, sweetie, it’s Monday. Let’s you and me get through Monday. We can worry about the centuries later.” She laughed. Her smile made her whole face glow. And yet, that sadness was there as well. Tori had to be strong to hold both her cheer and her sadness inside her. “Gosh me underground, but we have other hungry scholars, sweet Lillee. Enjoy your kaif. You take it dark, now don’t you? And you cool it with two cups, pouring it back and forth. I’ve seen you do it.”

  Lillee didn’t feel spied upon. She felt cherished. “It was nice chatting with you, Tori.”

  Tori saluted her with a spoon. “Nice to chat with you, Lillee. I imagine we’ll be working together here soon. That’s what I hear, and that’s what I hope. I’d like another big group of friends to bang around with.”

  Lillee knew she was talking about the xocalati endeavor, though that wording, “bang around,” made her wonder. And it was true, Tori did have a big group of friends she studied with, and she lived with a dozen students in an old dilapidated apartment on the edge of the Moons College, overlooking StormCry.

  The elf girl poured herself some kaif from a big silver urn, a mixture of Sunfire heat and Flow magic working with the kaif powder to give them their morning cup of wake-me-up. That was what Tori called it sometimes.

  Lillee could be happy about her new friend. What had changed between her and Ymir? Lillee couldn’t even begin to know. She ate, sketched, and kept looking up to see if Ymir or Jenny showed. Neither did. A few Swamp Coast women ate together, but no Nelly, and no Jenny either.

  Daris, Odd Corry, and Roger Knellnapp strutted in. Daris loved the attention from the women. Even some of the Swamp Coast queendom women threw glances his way.

  Lillee hated him, and the sneering Odd Corry, and she wondered why a nice human man-child like Roger would accompany those two scoundrels anywhere. Maybe Roger was afraid of being alone. The humans, in their short lives, had to worry about such things.

  When you expected to live a millennium, sometimes solitude was a fine thing—away from the desires and passions of your friends and lovers. Lillee didn’t mind being alone, not at all. The best part of leaving home had been her time alone making the journey to Old Ironbound. The worst part? Lillee didn’t want to think about that. Not at all.

  The fiery spring night. Those last hours with her family, her Ohnessla.

  While she sketched the dwarf couple, working on the woman’s beard, she wondered about Tori, and her history. For that matter, what was Brodor Bootblack doing teaching at Old Ironbound, without a wife around? There were no other dwabs except for Tori. Did they know each other?

  Bells went off around the campus, marking the beginning of the day and the opening of the classrooms. There wouldn’t be a welcome ceremony in the Throne Auditorium like at the beginning of the year. They would all go directly to their classes.

  Lillee was leaving as Ymir sauntered in. He gave her an impish smile, that dimple so alluring on his cheek. “Hurry on to class, Lillee. I’ll catch up. Leel hates us both, but I’m looking forward to seeing her disappointment when I sit down in her classroom.”

  He kissed her cheek and hurried on toward Tori, who of course let out a whoop. “And how is my favorite barbarian today?”

  “Just fine. And how is my favorite dwab?”

  Tori laughed. “Feeling dwabby! Now, one express breakfast, coming up!”

  Lillee let the pair fall into their banter. She stopped and grabbed her storm cloak from a hook at the entrance of the feasting hall. She put it on as she walked over the bridge that spanned the moat around the citadel. The Librarium was swimming with scholars hurrying to class.

  Then it was over another bridge, out into the Flow courtyard, and hurrying into the Flow Tower. That’s when Jenny drew near. The swamp woman’s eyes swam in dark circles. The two started up the stairs. “Jennybelle, are you well? Did you sleep at all last night?”

  Jenny coughed. “Spent most of it gossiping with Nelly. She tried to hide that she knows about Ymir and me, but she failed miserably. Which means my stupid sister will know, and then my whole family. My mother won’t care. Auntie Jia will. She knows the kind of prize Ymir is. But don’t you worry about me none, Lillee. We’ll see ’em coming a mile away.”

  Lillee thought that was only a half truth. Part of it was Nelly, another part was Jenny’s nightmares. Ymir and Lillee hadn’t been there last night, and so they had failed to soothe her.

  They entered Professor Leel’s classroom in the Flow Tower and took their normal seats. Lillee went to the far wall and slipped into her desk, one from the rear. Ymir took that last desk. Jenny sat on the other side of the room with Nelly, and with her new friend, Mimilynn Banette, from Williminaville.

  Professor Leel stood at the podium, going through her notes for the day’s lecture. She raised her eyes long enough to give Lillee a cold stare. Lillee glanced away, her hand automatically raising to cover the mark of the Sullied. It was a common gesture that placated the other Ohlyrra. It said that Lillee knew she was disgraced. Leel nodded, satisfied, and went back to her parchment.

  Ymir wouldn’t be happy with Lillee or her shame. She needed to get over that and embrace her life with Ymir. She would never again live with the elves. It was hard to hold that thought in her head despite her happiness.

  Darisbeau, Odd, and Roger took their seats. They were talking about the delicious new candy shop that had opened on the Sea Stair Market. The whole class
buzzed about Nan Honeysweet’s xocalati, though the boys also mentioned how flirty Ziziva was and how she was so willing to get naked. The scholars had barely returned from the Solstice break and already they chattered about The Paradise Tree.

  Near the front sat an orc boy and a dwarf, both imprudens Flow scholars. Despite how much their races hated each other, the pair had become friends. Also, some of the other girls in class were friendly with them. Lillee was glad. She didn’t want anyone to be alone if they didn’t want to be.

  Right before the bell rang, Ymir swaggered in. He tickled the back of Lillee’s neck before he sat down. That made her shiver with a delicious feeling of love and acceptance.

  The Flow Tower bell bonged, and Professor Leel welcomed them stiffly. “I’m sure you had a restful break. Or you should’ve. If you didn’t, that is your own fault, and shows a lack of wisdom. This semester, we will be building toward the day you receive your Focus Rings.”

  Ymir chuckled behind her. He already had his.

  The professor gave him a warning glance before continuing. “Who can tell me the five Categoria Magica?”

  “Not four?” Ymir whispered to himself. Sometimes he did that, having a conversation with himself during class. Lillee loved that she had gotten to know him so well.

  This time, Professor Leel heard it. “What was that, Ymir? First you laugh. Now you whisper. Yes, we are all impressed that you are here, even though you failed the First Exam.”

  “I didn’t fail it,” Ymir said. “I was sabotaged by Siteev Ckins.” Lillee was turned just enough to see the glare he sent Nellybelle Tucker.

  He didn’t pause. “There are the four schools of magic, the Studiae Magica. Now you say there are five?”

  “It’s the five Categoria Magica,” the professor explained. “Every spell ever cast can be categorized into five groups.”