by Aaron Crash
Haylee’s hands were on the Princept’s knees. “I know you and I shouldn’t do anything. I know it wouldn’t be appropriate. But I want you, so much. The fear makes me hot, I guess. Linny wanted to share my bed, but I couldn’t. I can’t trust her. You, though—I’ve dreamed of you for years. I’ve dreamed of this moment. Tell me no and I’ll leave.”
Della found her resolve melting, turning into a puddle, heated by the look in Haylee’s eyes. Those dark eyes. This woman was powerful in her own right, and her beauty was undeniable. Her touch was gentle. And her body was hot and fragrant.
The Princept thought again that maybe she needed to try on an essess at some point because she was losing control of herself. The constant masturbation wasn’t working. Her glass phalluses weren’t filling her like they used to. Most importantly, her imagination had grown stale. She needed a person in her body, a person with their own desires, kinks, and concerns.
Someone who could make her come, and whom she could make come in return.
Haylee smiled. Her lips were moist. Her teeth were white. And her tongue was pink. And it would feel so good on Della’s sex. “You’re not saying no, Della.”
She should correct the half-elf. She wasn’t Della to her subordinates. She was the Princept.
Haylee would treat her well. Della could trust the half-elf. They could make love, and then, with heads clear, they could discuss the matter of Linnylynn Albatross and her interest in demonology. She was from the Scatter Islands. She was a part of that swamp culture, and, yes, it could very well be that Auntie Jia offered Linny a fortune in platinum shecks to kill Jennybelle because that girl had betrayed her family by sleeping with Ymir.
Ymir. He would be a good fuck. He’d have a big uht, and he’d be a grunting animal on her.
Della would never let herself sleep with one of her scholars. A temporary professor? Where was the harm in that?
The Princept put her hands on Haylee’s hands, one on each of her knees. She thought she’d ease them off. That wasn’t what happened.
Della spread her legs wider. And then she drew up those hands, along with her gown, until her thighs were revealed. The gown rose higher until her oheesy came into view. She’d trimmed her hair there, so her lips were revealed, and her ohi, the pearl at the top of those petals.
The Princept couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe.
Haylee, though, sweet Haylee knew what she wanted. The half-elf kissed up Della’s thigh until her hot breath was on the Princept’s sex. Then her pink tongue parted Della’s lips, licking into her hole, and then upward, to lap at her throbbing clit.
Della caressed the woman’s hair. The Princept couldn’t believe it. Here Haylee was, licking her, sucking on her, using her tongue and her mouth to please her Princept. Haylee reached up and pushed aside the gown to cup Della’s tits. She lightly plucked her nipples until Della wanted something in her mouth.
She took Haylee’s fingers to suck on, tasting the woman’s skin for the first time, and then, all the sensations, the very idea she was having sex with someone she shouldn’t, took Della over the edge.
She came in Haylee’s mouth, giving the half-elf her wet love. She rode the blissful spasms, and this was why she had to find a lover. This was so much better than making herself come—an orgasm should be a gift from another person.
Della slid off the chair and found herself in a frenzy. She wanted to do everything with Haylee, lick her everywhere, suck on her, taste her, smell her, and get so nasty with this little half-elf whore, who had come to her apartment with some shit story. Della didn’t think Haylee was worried about Linnylynn. Or anything. This little whore had come to her Princept to fuck her and get fucked in return.
The Princept pushed the robes off Haylee, and they came together, tit to tit. Their hands went to each other’s asses, to feel the soft globes of each other’s skin. Their mouths met in a wet, nasty kiss, sucking on tongues, licking lips, and enjoying the scent of Della’s own sex.
Della knew how she tasted and smelled. She wanted a fresh pussy to play with.
The Princept pushed Haylee down on her back. She shoved aside a chair. She was shaking, out of her mind, out of control. A distant voice warned her she was being unwise. She had demons to find, a school to save, scholars to protect. All of that was true enough, but she’d also opened the gate to a forbidden lust, and there was no logic to it, and there was no arguing with it.
Haylee had her arms above her head. Her mouth opened, her eyes eager, and her tits were flat against her chest, almost disappearing, but those nipples were hard. Della had an idea. She’d lick those nipples before she sampled the whore’s hairy slit. She’d give Haylee something to lick at the same time.
Della crawled around so her face was above Haylee’s. She kissed her, and then slid down and suckled each of the half-elf’s tits. She kept on crawling until her sex was above Haylee’s face. The half-elf parted her thighs.
Della had always loved the Congress of the Crow, faces buried in-between legs, tongues at play, and both lovers enjoying themselves at the same time. It was so hot when you made someone come right before they made you come.
The Princept lowered her overheating oheesy to Haylee’s mouth. Yes, there was the professor’s tongue on her ohi again.
Della whimpered with lust. She looked down. Haylee had her legs spread. She worked her hips up and down. She wanted a mouth on her whore box.
Della pushed those legs apart, spread them wide, and there was another oheesy right in front of her, a fresh stretch of skin for Della to sniff and taste and explore. The hair was a dark red on Haylee’s belly, but it darkened to black around her lips, engorged with lust. Cream from her open slit dribbled down her ass crack.
Della would get to that forbidden hole eventually. For now, she’d enjoy the womanhood of the half-elf.
Enjoy she did, fucking with her tongue, getting that delicious taste in her mouth, and then sucking on that straining little button until Haylee was writhing under her, sucking on Della’s own ohi. Their tits pressed against each other’s bellies.
Della, already keyed up, came first, and right behind was Haylee, grunting like a StormCry slut.
Della, naked now, took Haylee by the hair and pulled her over to the bed. She had the half-elf get on her hands and knees, back arched, ass high, so Della had access to all of her. She had special plans for both those wet holes in front of her.
Haylee still had her sandals on. They would get the sheets dirty. The Princept didn’t fucking care. Della was ignoring her duties to her beloved school. She was risking everything to fuck the half-elf. What were dirty sheets compared to that?
Chapter Thirty-One
YMIR WAS THRUST INTO a world of screaming and spirits. The noise made him grit his teeth. People moved, spoke, laughed, and wept. Scholars walked by in modern robes, but through them meandered scholars in archaic costumes. Knights in armor clanked around with swords dripping blood onto the stones. Outside, there was a battle of some kind—Ymir heard the crunch of ax on armor, the howls of the wounded, and then the cacophony of a wall falling. Ymir realized it was everyone who had ever walked through the Librarium all at once. Their souls mingled, the outlines of their bodies overlapped, and their duszas glowed in their bodies. The magical cores blazed so brightly their skin seemed transparent, and all he saw was their bones.
In some ways, what Ymir saw was too bright to look upon. And yet, all around there was a darkness, a gnawing darkness, the veil of reality, shrouding all the light.
He yanked off the ring.
He was back, alone with Lillee, in the early morning hours of the Monday of exam week. He gave her the ring to hold.
“It’s cold and wet,” she said. “Only it’s not wet. What did you see?”
The clansman thought for several long seconds. “I’m not sure yet. I wanted to take off the ring and give it to you, to see if I hated you for holding it. Some rings are cursed.”
She nodded, smiled. “If touching the rin
g cursed me, you would’ve spread it like a bad cold.”
“Forgive me,” he said.
“You’re forgiven.” She gave the Veil Tear Ring back to him. “Now, put it on again. I didn’t see any change in you. However, your eyes went unseeing, and you went motionless. If I see any change, if you move, I’ll take the ring off you myself.”
“Good idea.” Then he was back into the swirl of souls, shadow, and noise. He found he could move, at least his mind could, and he had to focus on the modern people walking around. He watched one turn and he saw his quarry, Della Pennez. She was walking with Haylee Heenn. This must’ve been days ago because he could hear their conversation in the din. The more he focused, the more he could hear.
“It’s not surprising you don’t get any Examiners from Wootash College,” Haylee was saying. “It’s a long way to travel.”
Della answered her. “Most of our Examiners are from Melancholia University since it’s close, just down the coast.”
Ymir saw their souls, whitish-blue spheres in their bellies. He also saw something else. On the Princept’s right hand, there was a bit of darkness, and it was swirling up her arm and into her core. It was poisoning her slowly. Those lines of smoke drifted over to Haylee, and they were licking up and down her body, over her breasts, around her throat, and into her nose. It was the Lover’s Knot. Haylee had cast it on the Princept.
Ymir intuitively knew it to be true. He expected to feel his hair rise, or the icy fingers on his spine. Only, he didn’t. He wasn’t in his body. He looked down to see his own dusza glowing, giving him a spectral body, an outline of him in the clothes he was currently wearing back with Lillee. He turned, and he saw the elf girl, standing there in the present moment. He was getting better at this little game.
Haylee and Della were talking more about nothing in general, only Ymir could feel them. He moved closer. He reached out a hand, the outline of his fingers bathed in a whiteish-blue light.
Of course the Princept and the half-elven professor couldn’t see him. For them, it was last week, and Della was still getting the exams ready. He was seeing into the past. The power of this was almost beyond his comprehension. He’d unearthed a ring that could give him a devastating advantage.
He touched Haylee. And he was taken into her soul, and he saw her life, growing up in the alleys of Panseloca, her mother a wretch, her father a drunk elf who should’ve kept his essess on. Haylee learned magic when she wasn’t on her knees pleasuring bad men with wives at home but who wanted to pay for sex. Some men liked the power of that. Those were Haylee’s thoughts, not his own. Then he was flung into the future, and she was traveling with Linnylynn, and the two were friends, not lovers, because Linny didn’t like women in that way—that was another intuitive thought.
Ymir saw Haylee with Auntie Jia, talking, and doing more, because Haylee did like women in that way. And she liked powerful women, and Auntie Jia, even though she wasn’t the queen, was the sister of the Firstborn, and that came with definite advantages. Jia and Haylee kept in touch. Haylee taught at Wootash College, yes, but she also lusted for power, and money, and, yes, she knew about Della Pennez—Haylee was obsessed with the Honored Princept of Old Ironbound.
A voice hammered into Ymir’s mind. THE VEIL TEARS AND WE SEE THE TEAR. WE SEE YOU. THERE ARE THINGS OUTSIDE OF HEAVEN, HELL, AND THE MIDDLE PLACE, THINGS THAT WILL SEE YOU. CAREFUL, YMIR, CAREFUL. IT COMES.
And Ymir heard the howl of something. He turned and there was something materializing, something like a dog but with too many limbs, too many eyes, and, in those eyes, too much intelligence. It smelled like shit and fire.
He had a minute. But the Akkir Akkor had warned him. The Veil Tear Ring didn’t come without problems. That made sense. In magic, there was always a trade.
Haylee moved off and Ymir had to rush to catch up. He wasn’t done. He could guess the rest, but he wanted to see it.
He touched Haylee again, and again he was thrown into the minutes of her life. She had Auntie Jia between her legs. Jia had short iron-gray hair, a lined face, a shriveled body—hate had made her a crone. Still, her money and power gave her a certain attractive quality. Besides, when Haylee was on her back, with Jia eating her, a mouth was a mouth, and Haylee could pretend it was anyone, anyone at all.
Returning the favor was less pleasant. Then, Haylee and Jia talked about the murder at Old Ironbound, about a possible job there, about a niece who had betrayed her family.
Haylee would go to the Majestrial. She would kill Jennybelle, and she would sabotage Della Pennez with the Lover’s Knot, to muddy her mind and to blackmail her. Part of Haylee was sorry to do it. She was ambitious beyond reason, but she’d wanted to meet Della, a half-elf like herself, and someone with a dark past. A curious Hayleesia Heenn had come to Old Ironbound to see if Della was like her, a sister of her soul.
Ymir was forced to run from the dog thing, the hellhound, maybe. It wasn’t from hell, but that hardly mattered. It was limping toward him, still gathering power, still trying to wiggle through the tear in reality. The stink of it turned Ymir’s stomach.
He saw Della floating upward, using Moons magic, and he reached out and touched her dusza before it was out of reach. He was taken away, up into the Princept’s Chamber. He was tempted to look into her past, but he only had a few seconds.
The hellhound’s snarls were becoming louder. It wasn’t below him, but still about a dozen feet behind, coming closer. If it got its teeth into him...it had teeth and it drooled, but that spit wasn’t of this world.
Della, the current Della Pennez, was in her bed, with Haylee, which wasn’t surprising. That was the Lover’s Knot at work, a subtle magic that hadn’t robbed the Princept entirely of her wits. It had eaten away at her logic and resolve.
Haylee had struck at Jenny, yes, with the demon on the island. When that failed, she knew she had to be careful, so she waited. At the same time, the half-elf’s plans never changed. She cast the Lover’s Knot on the Princept to both hinder her Flow magic and to win her heart. Haylee bided her time. Then, that night, she’d summoned another orisha, a wormy piece of soul energy that wasn’t human but something else. Haylee wanted to kill Jenny and seduce Della on the same night.
The Alumni Consortium would investigate, and Haylee would force Della to give up her position and to request that the half-elf professor be made Princept. The arrogance of it made Ymir laugh with scorn, but he saw this from Haylee’s mind and the demon-summoner saw no irony in it. The deluded never did.
The knowledge flooded into Ymir’s mind. The ring on his left pinky finger was both sunshine and darkness. He knew that the corrupted Della trusted Haylee more than anyone. He only had one choice to free the Princept, and he didn’t have the power to dispel Haylee’s magic. Others might, but would they listen? It was doubtful.
Besides, Hayleesia Heenn tried to kill the woman Ymir loved. The clansman would get his vengeance himself.
He thought the only entrance into the Princept’s Chamber was through that door at the top of the Coruscation Shelves. But no, he saw someone in the past, just after the fortress became a school. He saw them climbing up a ladder through the mirror in the Princept’s bathroom. A ladder led up there from a secret passageway on the fifth floor.
He wanted to look around more—he thought there was something else skulking around the Princept’s Chamber—but he couldn’t tarry. He heard the slippery slap of the hellhound’s many feet on the floor, in this piece of reality, and he was exposed, his dusza out in the open. This Veil Tear Ring business left him exposed like nothing else.
AWAY, FOOL! the voice of the Akkir Akkor warned. YOU HAVE WORK YET TO DO. THERE ARE EIGHT RINGS! WILL YOU STOP AT TWO?
Ymir let himself drop down, down, down through the center of the Librarium. His soul sought his body. His dusza slammed back into his flesh. He took in a breath, feeling his lungs expand, feeling his fingers, and his eyes were seeing all the people, back in the citadel, a thousand years of foot traffic in front of him.
And then he saw a man striding across the room, a man with long black hair, a thick black beard, and a crimson cloak falling away from his shoulders. He was confident and powerful, a lion in the body of the man. And he didn’t look a thousand years old. He was seeing Aegel Akkridor. He was seeing the vempor. And he had the idea that the mythical king, a conqueror, a bloodthirsty despot, was seeing him.
Ymir yanked off the ring.
He heard the howls of the hellhound and then nothing. He was sweating, breathing hard, and Lillee was in front of him.
“Was that enough time? Did you see what you needed to see?” she asked. “It was only a minute or two.”
Ymir couldn’t talk. He felt so limited now, trapped in seconds, bound in inches, like what the Akkir Akkor had said. If he touched Lillee, he wouldn’t see her past stretch out behind her. He wanted to put the ring back on. Maybe he could kill the hellhound. Maybe he could find the Akkir Akkor, slay them, and stay in that otherworldly place, where information was a simple touch away.
He grinned. “Fucking magic.” He wouldn’t put that ring on again, not until he needed to. It was tempting, and it was dangerous, and besides, this ring business had turned decidedly dark. The Akkir Akkor wanted him to make more, he knew that. He couldn’t stop thinking of their taunts. And before they mentioned the sleeper, the awakened, and the dream. What did that mean?
He touched Lillee’s arm. Her face was small, pale, and yet so pretty. They had their own magic. He could learn about her past. All he needed to do was ask.
Could he have delved into the future? He could’ve with some practice. It was something to consider. It also made him suspect that doing so might be very bad. If the hellhound had found him in the past, those minutes were gone. If it had moved into the future with him? It would know where he’d be. And when.
“You have to say something,” Lillee said in a small voice. “You’re scaring me.”