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

by Aaron Crash

  “No,” Ymir returned. “I’ve seen her oheesy. It has lips and a pearl like any others I’ve seen. As for the smell? That is to be determined.” He didn’t think Gatha only liked women, not given the heat between him and her. Time would tell, however.

  Lillee touched her essess to make sure it was in place.

  Jenny laughed. “Such a barbarian. Following your nose around, sniffing women like a dog.”

  “Gatha called me a dog. She’s not wrong, and neither are you.” He frowned. “At least I have a new artifact to research. The Veil Tear Ring. The veil—what could that be, and why must we shred it? What veil blinds us? I don’t know about akkor, but could akkir be a reference to the Akkiric Rings? I would think so.”

  “I would think so as well,” Lillee said softly. Again, she adjusted the essess.

  Jenny saw it. “Are you all right, Lil?”

  The elf girl blushed. “Gatha. She’s beautiful and wild. Talking about her sex and smells, I can’t help but think about her in that way. I’m able to concentrate, but I know if I took off my cuff, it would feel so good to fantasize about her. But, yes, I’m all right.”

  “Just conflicted.” Jenny smiled.

  “Always,” Lillee sighed.

  She scooted up and hooked an arm around Ymir’s thick arm. “And I’m worried about Ymir.”

  “I’m worried about it all too, and all of us.” Jenny’s hand shook as she lifted the cup to her lips. “Nelly and I read the fucking sand letter. It took all of five minutes. Auntie Jia wrote three boring paragraphs about home. They’re testing me, to see if I break.”

  “You will,” Ymir said, “if you don’t tell us about your nightmares.”

  Jenny smiled like a specter. “I don’t remember them.”

  “You lie.”

  “I do. And well,” Jenny agreed. “Let’s focus on the tasks at hand so we can make an appearance at the party downstairs. Then we’ll need to get that essess off our horny elf and play a little tonight, but not in the sea alley showers. That would be too strange now. We should go to your rooms, though, and not my place. Too risky tonight because I know Nellybelle is onto us. She knows, but she doesn’t have proof, so she’ll wait and set traps for me. Still, we can have fun down there, and we can all fantasize about Gatha. She’d be a she-devil in the sack.”

  Ymir liked the idea of Gatha joining them, though that seemed unlikely. He nudged Jenny back to the topic at hand. “I’ll find out more about the Veil Tear Ring. And we can all ponder how to get into the Scrollery.”

  Jenny tapped her mug with a fingernail. “Professor Leel is the Studia Dux of Flow, and she doesn’t much like any of us. Gharam Ssornap, from Sunfire, doesn’t either, thanks to what we did to him. Brodor Bootblack, from Form, is probably our best bet, but he’s a surly one.”

  “And if I went to Della, she’d get suspicious right away.” Ymir thought Jenny was right. “Maybe if Brodor and I went drinking, I could get him to sign something. That would be hard now since Brodor and Gharam are so close.”

  “Something will come along,” Jenny said. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “We’ll have to do it soon,” Ymir replied. “The Veil Tear Ring was in The Keez Forta Index, under divination magic. If we can find it or craft it, that might help us figure out who tried to kill me tonight. And there are the inevitable assassins coming after Jenny. This would help us in any number of ways.”

  Ymir frowned. “But that is not the work of this night. Tell us, Jenny, about the xoca beans.”

  Lillee moved her chair to rest her head against Ymir’s shoulder. “Can we really discuss this other business with your life in danger?”

  Ymir shrugged. “We can’t do anything about the Veil Tear Ring tonight. We can talk about the business, and with more time, I can study more. No, we’ll work on both until all is made clear.” He motioned for the Josentown princess to continue.

  Jenny pushed a strand of midnight-black hair behind her ear. “So, in our class, we have Mimilynn Banette.”

  Ymir nodded. “From the Scatter Islands. Go on.”

  “Her family provides Old Ironbound with kaif. There are plantations in the Scatter Islands, but a lot comes from Reytah. And that’s where the xoca beans come from. Here’s the thing. The Undergem Guild has been trying to make a deal with the Wingkin about the xoca beans, a trade agreement that everyone can agree upon. Ha, an ‘agreement that everyone can agree upon.’ Sorry. Tired.” Jenny sipped more of her kaif. “Prices are still high. That explains why xocalati hasn’t been so widely distributed. And don’t it make you wonder how Nan and Ziziva are in business?”

  Ymir cut through Jenny’s many words to get to the point. He could see where it was headed. “Mimilynn knows smugglers. She can get us xoca beans. We’ll have to pay, and it might not be legal, but we can get them.”

  Jenny touched Ymir’s nose. “And that’s my big, brainy barbarian. As far as what’s legal? Money can bend laws. Enough money can break ’em. We take our shecks to the StormLight next Friday night, and we can meet with a few rough people Mimi knows. Then we’ll get our crows in the same closet, get our xoca beans, and we can get down to business.”

  “Crows in the same closet?” Lillie asked, a quizzical smile on her face.

  Jenny giggled. Her lack of sleep was making her silly. “It’s an old swamp saying. Don’t pay me no mind.”

  “What do you need for your love spell?” Ymir asked.

  The Josentown princess waved away the question. “That’s easy. Sandalwood. Some swamp moss. A red ribbon. Some spit. You’ll provide that, I think. Most of our customers are going to be women. That’ll help them along, all right. This won’t be a true Lover’s Knot, just a little bit of spice for our customers.”

  Tongues of ice licked up Ymir’s spine. His stomach twisted. Again, this fucking magic felt loathsome. Yet, he’d have been dead if he hadn’t cast the Flow armatus spell.

  He felt the irony. They’d been worried about someone coming after Jenny. They hadn’t considered he could be the next target. Could it be assassins from Josentown? Or was it the mysterious organization that Siteev had served? Once they had the Veil Tear Ring, he hoped to find out.

  Jenny stood up. “I better get to the party downstairs. I promised Prissybelle I’d dance with her. And Nelly will be asking for me.”

  Anger swept through Ymir. “They all need to be beaten if not killed. And what of Darisbeau Cujan getting close to Nelly? Do we know anything about that?”

  Jenny smirked. “Oh, Daris says he misses home and that those feuds aren’t his. Nelly says we should be nice, and that we can kill him later if we need to. Some of the other girls are considering Roger the Viscount for my sister, which isn’t a bad idea. I’d go for Odd Corry though for stupid, cruel Arribelle. They can be stupid and cruel together.” She walked off, boots clacking. She turned. “You two don’t have to go to the party. I can just meet you back in Lillee’s room. We should go there. I can cast some magic to make sure it’s safe.”

  Lillee’s eyes were closed. She was clearly upset. “I wanted to go to the festival. I wanted to dance.”

  “Good. I like to watch you dance.” Jenny laughed. She seemed recklessly uncaring. “I sent out some sand letters of my own, checking in with some girls still loyal to me in Josentown. We’ll figure this out, Ymir. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

  “You’re the pretty one,” he growled. “And though you’re trying to hide it, you’re the worried one as well”

  “Ain’t gotta worry when there’s wine.” The swamp woman clacked away across the floor and down the steps.

  Ymir thought of his predicament. A hidden enemy was threatening him and his women. His first instinct was to take his battle ax in his hands and hew through the Swamp Coast women until someone told him what they needed to know.

  He went and held Lillee close. She clung to him as they stood there. It wasn’t sexual for the elf, no, she had her cuff on. This was about closeness and feeling protected.

&nb
sp; Ymir would protect both of his princesses.

  Ymir didn’t feel like dancing. He did feel like drinking, though, and Lillee deserved a little fun, so he took the elf girl to the festival in the Throne Auditorium.

  Ymir stood with a tankard of the heavy beer in his grip. He watched Lillee dance in a line with others, including the she-orcs he worked with, Kacky and Gluck. Those women, one fat, the other ax-shaft thin, were often foul and generally mean, but they’d always been nice to the Sullied elf.

  He could see Lillee lose herself in the music and movement, while Jenny danced in a line with her catty collection of evil she-wolves. Daris and his cronies found other partners. Daris made it a point not to look at Nelly. That only meant the two were as close as ever.

  That shouldn’t be. The Cujans and the Josens had been feuding for centuries.

  Again, Ymir bristled at the duplicity of these southerners and the many, many games they played. All that wealth and luxury had poisoned their souls.

  Ymir was surprised to see Toriah Welldeep there. She was dancing with Professor Bootblack, Ymir’s poetry teacher Ibeliah, and Mr. Ironcoat, her husband. There were a few other dwarves there, scholars from various classes, including the thick man who was in Ymir’s class. The clansman hadn’t met him yet.

  Tori’s face shone with sweat, and she was enjoying herself. Yet, every so often, she’d stop to rest, and that troubled look would come into her eye.

  She forced herself to be happy, which was admirable. But Ymir couldn’t help but think she wasn’t happy, not at all. And he wondered why.

  Lillee finally danced herself into a sweat, then drank a bit too much wine to cool off. She went to Ymir and pulled him from the Throne Auditorium. Walking through the Librarium, she shoved her essess into his hand. “Hold that. I’m tired of it. You know, most Ohlyrra forget they have horny holes at all. Maybe that’s better, but I can’t forget about my pussy. I want to feel the tingles in my clit. I want to get fucked.”

  “Good thing I’m here.” He laughed and hooked the spiraled jewelry to his belt. Normally, Lillee didn’t like to curse. With her cuff off, though, the filth flowed as easy as breath.

  They threw on their cloaks and started off toward their sea cells.

  Lillee, though, couldn’t wait. She pulled him into a dark alley, off the Sea Stair, and had him take her from behind. She dropped her cloak and clothes and stood there naked in the cold, in the rain, her long, slender body pale in the wet night.

  Ymir kept most of his clothes on, his cloak back, his uht pulled from the opening of his leather pants. All the buttons were undone, freeing his crotch. The cold air felt good on his cock, out in the open, for anyone to see. And then it was buried deep inside Lillee’s body, hot, wet, open for him. She had thick lips on her sex, though her hole was tight. He liked how full her mound was. He liked her gasps. And then he liked how she grunted every time he smacked into the back of her.

  She raised a leg onto a crate, and he stepped closer. He gently pinched one of her rubbery nipples, then gave her his fingers to suck.

  She rubbed her ohi. Ymir knew from experience the more insistent her motion, the closer she was to coming. He stopped to let her come, and she made soft weeping noises. She threw a look over her shoulder, her face lit by the warm glow of a light above them. Her platinum hair was plastered to her face. Yet she always looked so sexy and beautiful. “I’m getting cold. Let’s get to my cell. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Besides, I’ll have to save some for Jennybelle.” Ymir tucked himself back into his pants. He left the cowl of his cloak down. He was wet already, and warm from the exercise. “You seemed to enjoy yourself. Were you thinking of Gatha?”

  The elf girl nodded. “A little. It was more like I wanted someone to watch us fuck.”

  “Does that someone have a name?” Ymir asked.

  “Tori.” Lillee put her hand to her mouth, turning shy. “And Gatha.”

  “No need to be embarrassed,” Ymir soothed. “Both are beautiful.”

  Lillee nodded. “I’ve been thinking more about Tori than Gatha. Tori has such lovely breasts. And I think about her ass—she has such a big ass. I’d love to bury my face in it.” She shivered. “Telling you all this has my little oheesy so hot again. We might need to find another street to fuck on.”

  They managed to get down to the sea alley. Once there, Lillee stripped. First her cloak came off, then her cape, and then the tunic. In just her sandals, she strutted down their corridor. Anyone could’ve come out and seen her. She didn’t care. Without her essess, Lillee really did lose all her inhibitions.

  She bent over as she undid her sandals. She knew what she was doing. Her ass cheeks opened, giving him a view of her thick lips and platinum fur.

  Lillee straightened and strutted, completely naked now.

  She stopped at her door. She stopped his heart. Turning, naked and dripping with rain, her big eyes told him everything he needed to know. He could guess her every desire.

  Inside, he took her hard, up against her desk, ramming into her until he’d shaken her schoolwork to the ground. She had this need, this fearful need, and he guessed it was all wrapped up in her recent worries. She’d been troubled even before someone tried to kill him.

  Lillee needed him, and he gave himself to her until he couldn’t hold back. He gripped her ass, digging his fingers into her soft skin. So hot. Scalding. Like the fire he’d survived. In fact, she felt hotter, and so much wetter.

  He grunted as he filled her.

  It was Jennybelle that collected the Sullied elf’s clothes from the sea alley and brought them into his sea cell.

  The swamp woman smiled. “You two wanna buy some clothes?”

  Lillee giggled.

  Jenny laid the clothes on the table. “Now, I’ve been doing some extra studying myself. “Jelu jelarum!” The door glowed silver, as did the window. “If anyone tries to come through, or if they try to cast magic, I’ll know.” Her blue eyes blazed. “Now, boy, do I get my turn?”

  She did get her turn, and a few more besides.

  Chapter Twelve

  A WEEK LATER, YMIR was in another damn boat, with Jenny and Lillee, rowing away from the hidden docks at the bottom of Vempor’s Cape. Ymir wore the Black Ice Ring. Off campus, no one would question it.

  Another week had come and gone. There had been no more attempts on his life, and all three of them cast Jenny’s Flow cantrip in their rooms to set simple wards. That wouldn’t stop anyone, but it would give them some warning.

  The rain had let up for a bit midweek but seemed keen on drowning them on Friday. There was a faint gray light from the western horizon, but the world was mostly clouds and falling water. It wasn’t warm, either, and Ymir was grateful for his storm cloak. He had the cowl back. The work of rowing the boat kept him warm. The water that did trickle down his spine felt good.

  The two women were silent and tense. Jenny had her worries chewing on her. Lillee did as well. At some point, Ymir would have to drag the truth out of them both.

  The swamp woman knelt on the bow, holding a hooded lantern enchanted with Sunfire magic, but something more than a cantrip. That was major arcana—one of the five Categoria Magica, probably fascinara, which enchanted items. While all the Studiae Magica had the five categories, Form magic usually worked best for fascinara.

  In just one week, he’d learned so much, and he’d worked harder than ever before. He liked the effort—it made his time at the college seem worth the trouble. And there was trouble, on every side. He was still wondering if he should tell the Princept someone had tried to kill him in the showers. He thought maybe it was a good idea, but only after they took care of some business first. He might be able to convince the Princept to let him have access to the Scrollery. Jennybelle thought there might be other warding cantrips down there like the ones she knew.

  But really, they needed the Veil Tear Ring.

  Ymir wondered if he should just break into the Scrollery and take what he wanted. That was
an option, but it would be difficult, and if he were caught, he’d be expelled. That didn’t scare him; he’d almost been expelled once before. However, if he had been, he wouldn’t have found out about the new ring. While he didn’t like it, he was recognizing the value of Old Ironbound. And of the people there. Still, he didn’t enjoy walking around wondering when something might cook him in flames. Or would they poison his food? And why him?

  Jenny had suggested another possible suspect—Nan and her xocalati shop. If she or her fairy got wind of the competition, they might send an assassin to kill Ymir. He thought that was impossible. No one knew about their enterprise except for Tori and Mimi. Both seemed trustworthy.

  Ymir had said that out loud. Jenny had laughed and called him incredibly naïve.

  The women were quiet as they rode the waves, which, considering the wind, weren’t bad. He’d seen the surf far worse. He’d brought his ax, his hatchet, and his new knife. Jennybelle had her own dagger, the Sapphire Fang. Lillee had her magic. She’d learned to summon icicles and could stab with them, as well as hurl them with exceptional force. Still only cantrips, they didn’t use too much of her dusza—the force within them that fueled their spells. Lillee and Jenny had to be careful. Without Focus Rings, they could drain their dusza accidentally, and that could kill them. Old Ironbound had lost imprudens before like that.

  Mimi arranged a meeting with the smugglers through the woman who ran the StormLight lighthouse at the mouth of Angel Bay. Her real name was Sueza Detta Dean, but everyone called her Damnation Sue. She had a soft spot for sailors, whores, and smugglers.

  Ymir rowed them, hoping this trip to the AngelTeeth Islands went better than the last one. He also hoped the boat made it. Jenny had some trouble hiring another one after word got out she’d destroyed the last one.

  StormLight had a small dock on the leeward side of the shit-stained rock where it sat. The seagulls as well as the sea cows used it as a toilet. Ymir had also heard tavern talk that the merfolk didn’t piss in their ocean. Some old sailor at the Angel’s Kiss in StormCry claimed to have seen a merman shit, and the sight had scarred him forever—he’d clawed one eye out himself and now wore a patch. However, he was quick to say he kept his good eye open in hopes of seeing a mermaid relieve herself. That drew howls of derision and a fight. The drunk old sailor hadn’t fared well.