by Aaron Crash
Ymir noted the change in her demeanor.
She continued. “None of the Fayee at Old Ironbound want you dead yet. No, Ziziva, if anything, wants you alive and in her bed. As for the butter hole? If you’re lucky, you’ll know soon enough. Now, out of my office! Caelum caelarum!” A wind caught him and blew him from the room along with a few papers. The door slammed shut.
He staggered against the wall. He went over every word of the strange conversation. His hand strayed to the Veil Tear Ring. So as with his exams, his memory wasn’t affected by fairy magic. This was a very interesting turn of events indeed.
“Fucking magic,” he growled happily and continued down the steps. So the fairies weren’t as silly as they appeared, yet that hoax had permeated the entire Theran continent and not just his school. Rumors and stories abounded, though, and they all said the same thing—you didn’t mess with fairies when it came to business and money. He had to get to the library and get to Gatha. He had several things to study. Not only did he need to look at the works of Fifunn Rendlim, he was going to read up on fairies.
Grandfather Bear had said that there were many kinds of battles, and there were many ways to crush your enemies. Ymir would be damned if he lost this candy war, not when he had a clear way of winning it.
It all depended on the Solstice break cook. But first, he had to pass the Second Exam, and that meant more reading, and more plays by Willmur Swordwrite. Speaking of which, his literature professor, Ibeliah Ironcoat, and her husband were in the Librarium when he walked in. Gatha was helping them get some books. The she-orc’s bruises had healed, and she was as pretty as ever despite her square jaw and her hard expression.
The two Morbuskor had reddish-brown beards, big noses, and big ears, and they were dressed in the same brown leather and black velvet—the dwarf had the trousers, while the dwab had the dress. She waved him over. “Ymir! Over here, Ymir! You do know the Second Exam is next week. Have you finished The Twelve Midnights?”
Gatha replied before he could. “Ymir hasn’t. But I made mention of all the Moons imagery in that play, and Ymir has made a note of it. He’s not as dim as he first appears.” She gave him a little twinkle of a smile, but mostly she kept her face emotionless.
He wondered if they would ever be more than friends. Perhaps that was enough, but he liked the smell of her. He liked their one brief kiss. Looking back, their fight seemed almost sexual now. Compared to how platonic their friendship was, the fistfight might be the closest they ever got to sweating on each other.
Ibeliah laughed and stamped a boot. “You two. I heard about your fights, both of them. How come you didn’t use magic in the second one?” Those brown eyes were on Ymir. Something about the bearded dwab’s gaze was troubling. She seemed a bit too interested in his answer.
Brandmunli nodded, making his beard move. “Yes, with the first fight, with the swords, there was a great deal of magic. Us professors took bets on you both. Gharam was for Gatha, naturally, and Brodor backed you, Ymir.”
“And let me guess,” Ymir said. “Professor Leel bet against me.”
“She did, but she didn’t take the five platinum sheck bet. Only the gold bet,” Ibeliah said. “Now, about the fight on the Sea Stair. Why no magic?”
Brand clapped his hands. “No, my dear Ibeliah, they didn’t use magic because the Gruul woman made the terms. Or our man Ymir would’ve let her have it.”
That made Ymir smile. “Yes, Gatha, I would’ve let you have it. I thought you wanted it.”
“I do want it,” she said. “But perhaps I want to build up my appetite first. Perhaps I need to be careful because I’ve had it before, and certain things happened that didn’t agree with me. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”
Ibeliah frowned. “I don’t think I want to know what you two are talking about. You overtoppers have such strange ways about you. But, Gatha, is my Brand right? Did you set the rules?”
“Yes, I named the terms,” Gatha said. “I guess I wanted to make it fair. Ymir is new to magic. I’ve been using sorcery in the Pits my entire life.” She paused, thinking. “Or maybe I was a bit intimidated.”
“Why’s that?” Ibeliah asked. Again, why was this little fight such a big issue for her?
Gatha shrugged. “Because Ymir is both a warrior and a sorcerer. I’ve heard stories. I’ve seen him work magic. And he is extremely clever. No, I thought my best option was to try to beat him with my flesh only. I didn’t. He won.”
“That’s what I heard.” Ibeliah’s smile was half covered by her beard. But her eyes told a different story. She found all of this troubling. But why?
Ymir thought he might know the answer. “Careful about rumors, Professor, or people will tell you all sorts of things. I’ve even heard rumors about this Midnight Guild. Have you heard of such a thing?”
Ibeliah shrugged. “Haven’t heard a thing.”
Her husband laughed loudly. “That’s the last thing we need: another guild, asking for fees, forcing more taxes, and offering the world. No, my lad, let’s not have another guild.”
Ibeliah laughed along with him. They seemed like merry Morbuskor and nothing more. Ymir wasn’t sure if that was the truth or not.
“What do you know of Fifunn Rendlim?” Ymir asked.
“The alchemist?” Brandmunli brightened. “Why, he wanted to change the world with his experiments.”
“He nearly destroyed the Undergem Stonehold, is how I heard it,” Ibeliah said. “You see, Ymir, there are certain things one shouldn’t study. There are limits to what anyone—professors, scholars, hedge mages—should attempt. Wisdom is critical in these uncertain times.”
Brand could only agree. “My wife is right. Look at what might have happened with those merfolk and the shenanigans they pulled with the earthquake wave. I say we keep things the same. We’ve all enjoyed peace and prosperity, have we not?”
“Talk to the villages burned to the ground by Gulnash,” Gatha said. “Or the ships sank by the merfolk. And there’s been talk of demons about. The old sorceries we thought were dead might be rising again. I’ve even heard a rumor about a dragon in Ethra.”
Ibeliah’s chuckles shook her plump cheeks. “Oh, and if we’re talking about dragons, we could talk about the ghost of the vempor himself, walking the halls of Old Ironbound.”
Ymir grew impatient. “Well, Professor, I have my Swordwrite to read. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
They exchanged more pleasantries, and Ymir strolled off, climbing the stairs to his table on the second floor. He removed his grimoire and read Derzahla Lubda’s poem one more time. He was still reading it when Gatha sat down.
“You want the books from that dwarf alchemist.”
He nodded. “You know me well.”
She saw the poem he had copied in his book. He’d shown her the lines, trusting her because, though they weren’t lovers, they were friends, and Gatha was brilliant.
The she-orc nodded and gestured to a specific phrase. “Yes, sour is the vineyard’s grieving, and malleable becomes the ossified throat. If you put bone in vinegar, it leeches the elements, and it makes the bone malleable. As for which bone? The hyoid bone keeps the windpipe open. The hyoid is U-shaped. It seems we have to smelt gold to close that.”
Ymir sat back. “You’ve been studying.”
“Reading, studying, talking with Lillee, yes,” Gatha agreed. “It seems your friendship comes with a high price.”
“And what is the cost?” he asked.
“You know the answer. Your xocalati business is harmless enough. But you are crossing into forbidden magic and studying dark artifacts.”
“Does that scare you?” He watched her closely.
Her rose-colored eyes never left his. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are a man of destiny, and the Gruul don’t live long. If I’m to die, I would die working with you, walking with you.” She stood, and she opened her mouth to say more, but then closed it.
&
nbsp; She left without another word.
Ymir sat back to ponder the fairy professor, the Morbuskor couple, and Gatha. Each of them was a mystery. The Fayee was running her business and full of ire. The Morbuskor couple seemed jolly but might be overly interested in him. As for Gatha, he’d won her friendship but not her heart.
The she-orc returned with a very thick, very dusty tome on Fifunn Rendlim. She set it down and kept working. However, every time she walked by, she’d brush the back of his chair.
Same old Gatha. He was lucky she was on his side. If a man’s value could be seen in the quality of his friends, then yes, Ymir was a man of destiny. He would rise to the occasion, and he wouldn’t let anything get in his way, including his own pride.
He would have to watch the Ironcoats closely. They had an interest in him, and from Ymir’s experiences at Old Ironbound, such interest from professors was never, ever a good thing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THE FRIDAY AFTER THE Second Exam, Toriah Welldeep was once again in heaven. She was in her room in the Zoo alone with Ymir. Her room was less bedroom now and more workshop, with bronze gears, pieces of copper tubing, wood and sawdust, and not a few springs cast about. She’d had to take a big iron wheel off the bed so Ymir could sleep there the previous night.
The barbarian was sitting in a chair by the window, watching the rain trickle down the windowpane. He’d given her that gift the night before, staying over, though Tori hadn’t had her Inconvenience. She hadn’t had it for a bit now, and she was glad. She had so much work to do, what with the xocalati business, the Yellow Scorch Ring, Ymir’s assassin, and the threat of the merfolk attack.
Tori was glad to get a break from the sex stuff, but she was also a little worried about it. Some Morbuskor went years between Inconveniences. The lucky ones might go decades without an outbreak. Were they lucky? Tori always assumed so.
And yet, she missed Ymir in that very intimate way. And there was Gatha to consider, who had taken to sniffing Tori at times to see if she was in Heat. Having a she-orc sniff her was strange, and Gatha was strange. She’d completely changed her attitude toward Ymir, and Tori was having a bit of trouble understanding why.
The wide little woman was getting ready for the Solstice Festival, and it was bittersweet. Yes, they were done with the Second Exam, they’d all passed, and now they would have a break from school at least. They had plenty of other things to do. Tori remembered the heartbreak of last year, when she’d first seen Ymir with Lillee. Tori had been so hurt, so jealous, and she felt silly to think someone as ugly as her would ever get a man as wonderful as Ymir.
She’d gotten him. Kind of. She had to share. That should be fine since Tori loved Lillee, and Jenny was okay, and Gatha was odd but not so lonely anymore, which was good. No one should be lonely.
Tori had grown up lonely but not alone. She’d had her parents, her brother, and her sister, and they all loved her, yes, but they were family. Somehow, that didn’t count. Tori had found some friends, but she couldn’t shake the idea they were simply being nice, showing the ugly dwab some kindness and mercy. Charity didn’t make a very good foundation for friendship.
All those thoughts spun around Tori’s head while she jiggled earrings into her ears and then went to Ymir. He helped tie the white bow of her pretty blue dress.
“Let me get this straight,” Tori said. “You and Gatha are friends because you beat her unconscious. Is that about right?”
“That’s exactly right,” Ymir said. “Though I do wonder if we could have something more. You know that she is a passionate woman more than anyone.”
Tori spun around and bopped a finger on Ymir’s nose. “No, Mr. Man, we don’t talk about nose rubbing when I’m not in the mood for rubbing noses. I’m just curious is all. The Gruul certainly do like their fighting and carrying on. Tell me about your Second Exam.”
Ymir grinned and put his hands on her hips. She liked how they felt there, so big and strong. But no lust stirred inside her. Not a thing. She might as well have been chatting with Ribrib, who was in her room, bustling around, cursing, and yes, belching loud enough that they could hear it. Ribrib could be so gross sometimes.
“You don’t remember a thing about your Second Exam, do you?” Ymir asked.
Tori shook her head. “No one does. Only you do. I mean, I remember bits and pieces. I had to do a little sword fighting. You know the big dramatic throne room scene in Heath and Heart? Well, I had that, I think, and I had to create fog. That was easy. They had a full Alchemist’s Rack there. That’s all I remember.”
The clansman nodded thoughtfully. “My exam seems similar to yours. I had two rooms, one for that play, Heath and Heart, and the other was the historically important balcony in Castle SkyReach in Four Roads. That was the seat of the empire during the Age of Discord. I’m studying the middle age, which is the end of the generational vempors and the birth of Aegel Akkridor. On the balcony, I had to strike down the vempors in order, so my exam had a lot of fighting, which I liked. The next room had the paper golems. That was a recreation of the throne room scene where everyone kills everyone else. Like you, I had to make the mist, which was easy, since they gave us the components to make lutus coelduox, with a little help from a Form cantrip. Sinking that block of dry ice water gave me the fog.”
Tori laughed and then actually did rub her nose against Ymir’s. She loved him, but she also wanted to see if she could get her libido going. “What’s that line? ‘Mine eyes doth lie but mine soul never will, for it is by will alone that makes me strike at thee in this fog of deceit.’”
“That’s the one,” Ymir agreed. “At any rate, in the fog, I slipped by the paper golems as they slaughtered each other, like in the play, except I must’ve been playing Amleth, the hero, because the evil uncle came for me, and I had to kill him.”
“Which you did because you passed.” Tori kissed his cheek and stepped back. “So, are you ready to let me try on the Veil Tear Ring so I can remember my exams?”
“No, let’s have this festival tonight, and then when the school empties, you and I can revisit the idea. I’m alive when the Lover Moons are in the sky, and so even if my assassin strikes again, they won’t be successful. I’d like to wait until we finish the next batch of the Amora Xoca.”
“That long?” she asked.
“That long.” He kissed her nose. “When you do try on the ring, I want to be there to save you if there’s trouble.”
“You’ll be my hero!” Tori laughed and clutched his hand to her chest. “You’ll save me because I’m a princess in trouble. It’s in all the stories.”
Ymir stood. “Most princesses don’t sleep in grease.”
“I cleaned the sheets after that accident.” Tori kicked a hunk of gears lightly. “We’ll be ready for the cook. The workers have the xocalati annex ready, and the beans are already fermenting in the boxes I made. Have you talked with Ziziva yet?”
“I’ve tried,” Ymir said with a sigh. “She just keeps stripping and bending over. It’s very distracting. She’s only doing it to stall for time. Whatever happened with the merfolk and that wave has the fairy shook up. I wonder why. It was a mistake to ask Professor Lyla. That fairy was never going to tell me a thing.”
Tori went to the mirror to give herself one last look. Her hair was pretty, so that was something. Her face, bare and ugly, was hard to take. And she’d strapped her breasts down, but they were still so big. It was embarrassing. She was glad most people would be looking at Ymir, Lillee, and Jennybelle anyway.
“Okay, Mr. Man, I’m ready to go.” She shouted to the mermaid down below. “You should come to the festival, Charibda! You can’t spend all your time alone hating us dirt worms!”
“My mom is making me go!” Charibda yelled back. “But I’m only going to be there for five fucking minutes near the end. I hate all you people!”
“But we love you, Ribby!”
“Don’t call me that!”
Tori and Ymir climbed up the steps th
rough the rathole nests of the Zoo and out through the kitchen on the top floor.
“You know,” the dwab teased, “if your harem gets any bigger, you’ll have to move in here. It has far more room than Jenny’s apartment. And she might lose it next year, if your sales fall.”
“My sales aren’t going to fall,” he growled. They had to hurry through the rain, traversing from the Moon apartments past the Chapel of the Tree and the Moons Tower until they ran under the covered walkway by the feasting hall. Then it was a quick trip through the Librarium Citadel and on to the Throne Auditorium, where the Ohlyrran musicians were already playing.
Linnylynn Albatross had Jennybelle pressed against the wall near the gated entrance of the Scrollery. It was clear the Williminaville professor was in full questioning mode.
When Jenny saw Tori and Ymir, she let out a desperate yell and waved them over.
Ymir strode over, but Tori wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to that strange Linny woman. She said she only had a scholarly interest in the swamp magic Jennybelle grew up with. A lot of it was complete cave fungus, totally worthless.
Other parts made Tori nervous. Growing up, her ahmer had told her all sorts of stories about dwarves digging down a bit too far and unearthing something terrible. The most famous such story was about Ordoon Thunderrock, who was the greatest Morbuskor who ever lived. If the tales were true, while the outside world fell apart during the Age of Withering, Ordoon dug tunnels to all the continents, going right under the ocean. Tori wasn’t sure what she believed, but when she was little, she could imagine monsters, oily and evil, climbing up from the darkest tunnels in the deepest of mines. Sometimes the monsters in her imagination would have lava for blood, supposedly like the firebloods over in Ethra. At any rate, Tori would wonder if anyone would care if a rock demon clawed its way out of the bedrock to gobble her up in the dead of night. Her parents would cry, without a doubt, but would their grief pass quickly? Would it be replaced with relief?