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

by Aaron Crash

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  TORI FIGURED SHE WOULD die. Getting stabbed in the chest generally killed people, right?

  That was okay. She’d made an odd kind of peace with herself, her fate, and with Ymir. Most of all, she’d saved him from Ribrib’s uncle, and it was kind of odd that it was her friend’s family that had killed her.

  It seemed like something out of a Willmur Swordwrite play, or from the very real life of her friend Gatha.

  Tori could leave the pain and her ruined body behind for the moment using the Veil Tear Ring.

  She was happy that the spirit treat had worked on the hellhound. The beastie was eating up the smoking chemical fire, which she’d brought with her in three glass vials, wrapped in ribbon to keep them together. One vial contained potassium nitrate. The second was a mixture of beet sprinkles and ignitium powder. The last vial held a mixture of ash from a funeral pyre, powdered bloodcross mushrooms, and the dried blood of a righteous woman. Tori’s kaif-addicted roommate, Belissina, went to every Chapel of the Tree service. She’d been righteous enough. The hellhound had forgotten about the dwab and was sniffing and snuffling around the chemical fire.

  The world around Tori was frozen. She decided to take a quick tour. Ymir had a bad gash on his forehead; he was on the ground, his battle ax lying next to him. He was stunned, but he’d live. Gosh me underground, but he had a strong spirit in him. She could see it glowing. There were so many duszas glowing, but brightest of all were the circle of mermaids. They had joined their souls.

  Gatha had blocked an ax from a merman, and though tentacles had her by the legs, her sword was buried in the throat of her attacker. That fish guy wouldn’t make it. So much death. So much consternation. And over what?

  She didn’t know, but she was going to find out. Tori wasn’t a great warrior—she’d been lucky enough to get even one strike with her hammer. No, but she could help by gathering information with her Akkiric Ring. She could at least do that.

  Jenny was by Lillee, and both had swords out. Ha, the two didn’t exactly look thrilled to be there. They were, however, on their way to stop Marrib from killing the barbarian. That was good.

  As for the rest, it was all a mixture of fighting. It was interesting to see her boss, Francy, dressed in armor with a big sword. The kitchen woman looked downright heroic. Good for her.

  Ibeliah lay on the cobblestones. Her husband was coming for her, his face wet with merman blood, his ax equally stained.

  Tori would get to the Ironcoats. There was something mysterious about them, all right.

  First things first, though, she needed to unravel the mystery of the attack before the hellhound ate up his alchemical goodie. She needed to live, at least long enough to tell Ymir what she’d learned using the magic ring.

  She touched Marrib Delphino’s dusza. There was a thick mist of darkness around him, and yes, scrying merfolk was hard. However, she was dying, and somehow that gave the Veil Tear Ring enough force to push through the mystery.

  No, there was more to it than that. Marrib had sorcerers casting spells to protect his family, which included Ribby and her ahmer. Marrib himself? He’d left himself open, and Tori was going to take a walk through his life.

  She was taken back, ten years, and she saw him talking to his friends from across the Weeping Sea. Friends? That was putting it nicely. Those other merfolk were from the BuBanoa Family, and they were basically mercenaries.

  Tori didn’t have much time, but she saw enough of the Red Tide Massacre, from Marrib’s point of view, to see that it wasn’t King Velis IX, nor any humans, that had done the murdering. It was Marrib himself. Ribby’s evil uncle had orchestrated the massacre. He wanted power. He killed his brother to get it.

  Tori tsked the man. “You really are like a bad Willmur Swordwrite play. An evil man who killed his own brother and relative to get power? Such the cliché. Which makes my Ribby an atrocious little Amleth.”

  She hurried forward through time. Yep, the earthquake wave was from Marrib and his family, but not Ribrib. She didn’t know. And neither did Beryl Delphino. The evil uncle had wanted King Velis IX dead. That wave had been an assassination attempt, pure and simple, and why? Because they wanted this Fractal Clock thing. The mermaid mages had linked their souls to create the wave, and to hide the culprit. It had been powerful magic, all right. Tori’s magic, thanks to the Veil Tear Ring, was better.

  Just thinking of the Fractal Clock gave Tori a vision of Angel Bay as one vast icy plain. Underneath that ice lay dead fish, plants, and merfolk. Such a weapon was devastating to say the least. And yet, it was a clock. You could set it to go off when you wanted, like an alarm clock.

  Tori saw the Vempor Aegel Akkridor standing at the top of the southern cliffs, arms spread, the staff raised. Oh, so the Fractal Clock was a staff.

  Then the dwab noticed the vempor’s hands and his rings. Every finger had a ring on it. Tori saw that plainly. A few of those rings looked familiar.

  She was standing right behind him. He was in his armor and his helmet, with a red cloak flapping in the freezing wind. It was summer, but it was cold because he’d basically frozen the entire region with the Fractal Clock.

  The vempor turned, and those eyes took Tori in. He was aware of her. And that scared Tori. She ran forward in time to escape,

  She found herself back on the Flow courtyard battlefield in the present. She was dizzy, and she found it hard to concentrate. Tori blinked her spectral eyes. She was losing it. Most likely, it was the blood loss in her real body. What would happen to her ghostly body once she died? She wasn’t sure, but she figured, if worse came to worst, she’d try to find that Sarina Sia. From what Ymir had said, her ghost was around. Tori was good at making friends.

  The hellhound had eaten over half of the pile of sparking stuff next to her body. Gathering those components hadn’t been easy. There just weren’t that many funerals in StormCry.

  “Focus, T,” she said to herself, using Jenny’s nickname for her. That brought up a well of sadness, but Tori couldn’t let herself feel all that. Nope. Work first, laugh now, and cry later—you might as well chisel that in rock and hang it above the entrance to every Stonehold ever.

  Tori did a quick tour of Ibeliah Ironcoat’s life, such as it was. She didn’t have that long left. The little woman didn’t go back so far as Four Roads, no, only the past few months.

  She only needed the one conversation that she’d weirdly forgotten. The words hung in her mind, and she made sure she remembered them this time.

  From Brandmunli: “Dearest wife, that kind of talk is exactly why we’re at this school. Change is dangerous and must be managed. Like this barbarian problem.”

  From Ibeliah: “You’re right. May the night never end.”

  Her husband answered, “May the day never begin.”

  Ibeliah had tripped Ymir on purpose, to end him, because the Midnight Guild wasn’t about to let a barbarian with magic live. That bad professor, Siteev Ckins, had wanted Ymir to lose his power. When her plan failed, she tried to kill him. And when that failed? The Midnight Guild sent the Ironcoats. And who ran the Midnight Guild? A single name floated through Tori’s mind.

  Unger.

  Thinking about him was dangerous. Tori quickly let go of the assassin mystery to figure out another mystery. She passed through the wall of ice that had the Librarium sealed off. Inside the citadel, the defenders stood frozen on running legs. They were headed toward the feasting hall and the exit there. Della, Gharam, Brodor, and a whole mess of scholars were running. The big orc, Erigg Bloogg, and his girlfriend, Fryla Walker, ran next to Buck Minefinder and several upperclassmen. With them was the doctor, Nuveehl Naymer, a silver-haired woman with a silver cuff. That might be good news for Tori. Maybe. Probably not.

  That left the citadel nearly empty. Some folks stayed behind, sure, because Della wasn’t foolish.

  Which was the plan. Tori could sense a conspiracy, and she went with that feeling. The more she used the Veil Tear Ring, th
e more her instincts led her. She rose up with her spectral body, all the way up to the sixth floor, where Agneeyeshka, one of Gharam’s wives, lay unconscious. With her otherworldly senses, Tori could smell the sweetness.

  Fairies were about.

  Tori flew through the open door that led to the Princept’s chambers, and there, coming down the steps, were Lolazny Lyla, Zorynda Gold, and Ziziva, along with three other fairies. The tiny flying women carried the Fractal Clock.

  They were going to take it to the merfolk. In the end, all Marrib had to do was create a distraction. His fairy accomplices would grab the artifact.

  Tori let go of the vision. She was back in her bleeding body an instant later. The chemical flame sputtered out. The minute she took off the ring, the bad dog—and all its weird appendages—vanished.

  She slid off the Veil Tear Ring, gripped it in her hand, and fell to her knees. Lillee blasted Marrib in the face with a Flow cantrip, blinding him with ice. Jenny threw fire, which scorched the damn merman. Tori sincerely hoped he’d spend eternity burning in hellfire for his many sins, including the massacre of his own family.

  Ymir pulled Tori into his arms. She was having trouble breathing, and she spit blood down her front, which embarrassed her. She had to talk. She had to tell him everything. But she couldn’t talk. She was choking and dying and she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave her Ymir.

  Worse yet, if she couldn’t tell him what she’d learned, her death wouldn’t mean a thing.

  Then she had an idea. She pressed the ring into Ymir’s hand and nodded at him.

  That big man was as smart as he was heartbreakingly handsome. He put on the ring, and Tori showed him everything, every bit of her life, because her secrets didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered except that she’d spend the last seconds of her life in the arms of the man she loved.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A RED LIGHT FILLED the air. Dawn was bringing light back to what would be a bloody day.

  Ymir had seconds. With the ring on, he was shown the truth of the Red Tide Massacre, and the full extent of Marrib’s lust for power. He was shown who the hidden assassins were. He was shown the fairies who were stealing the Fractal Clock. He took off the ring.

  Marrib dropped Lillee with a punch. He sent Jenny spiraling away in a gush of water from his outstretched hand. He then froze her to the ground. The swamp woman screamed and then lost consciousness. The blue-bearded merman laughed, victorious.

  “Tori!” The word rang out. There was Gatha, covered in blood, her armor scored and marked. Her white hair ran red. Tears streamed from her eyes to drip off her tusks. Her buckler was gone, and all she had was her sword, dripping gore.

  This was Ymir’s vision come true, and the hurt in the she-orc’s face pinched his heart. She’d just given herself to a ptoor, and here she was, looking down at another lost love on a battlefield. Gatha loved Tori. The Gruul girl had come out of her shell to be with the little woman.

  Gatha herself moved forward to kill Marrib, but tentacles from two mermen caught her arms. An ax came down and cracked into her armor. She whirled, and another coil caught her around her throat. Her sword was beaten from her hand. That one distraction, seeing Tori’s lifeless body, had broken the she-orc’s concentration, and she was caught. She’d only lost one fight in her life, and she was about to lose her second. This defeat would kill her.

  A mermaid stepped forward to drive her jagged sword into Gatha’s chest.

  Ymir had seconds to save her.

  And dammit, he wouldn’t be doing it with his ax. The dozen mermaids were still holding hands, dispelling all magic and stopping Della and her defenders from casting spells. Most of them were pinned down by the walkway next to the feasting hall. The doctor, Nuveehl Naymer, was with the Princept. If only the doctor could get through to help Tori, who might already be dead.

  Gharam made a run for it. He dashed onto the Flow Courtyard and fought his way across cobblestones, shield deflecting blows, his sword rising and falling. He was trying to get to Gatha. He knew she was about to die.

  Ymir had one chance to save the she-orc. He hoped that circle of fish women wasn’t concentrating on him or this might not work. He sensed the jagged sword in the mermaid’s hand. Using the Yellow Scorch Ring, he filled those amwabs with power, and he made that weapon explode. The fragments obliterated the wielder and sent mermen flying. Gatha spun away, her face slashed and bleeding. She’d have scars from debris. Hopefully she’d live to hate them for a long time. She sank unconscious to the ground.

  Gharam rushed Marrib, who swung his trident like a club. The orc was thrown off his feet. He slammed his head onto the ground. Marrib went to spear him like a fish.

  Ymir wasn’t about to let that old orc die. He set Tori down and got as far as his knees. At the same time, he snatched the hatchet from his belt. He flung it into the back of the monstrous Marrib Delphino riding on his writhing tentacles. He thought he might get lucky and end the siege right there.

  The hatchet dinged off the merman’s armor, but it was enough to distract Marrib. He turned, gnashing his fangs. “You! You are the one I want to kill.”

  Gharam grunted himself back onto his feet and was immediately engaged in battle with a half-dozen merfolk. A blood-splattered Professor Issa Leel and a weary Francy Ballspferd rushed to help him, along with Frugla and the orcs that had survived the first minutes of the fight. That Ohlyrran teacher was far more of a warrior than Ymir had ever imagined. He might actually have to be nice to her after this was over. However, they all might be killed. There were simply too many of the merfolk, and the sea witch circle had neutralized all of the powerful magic of the Majestrial’s defenders.

  Ymir lost sight of that fight as Marrib slithered forward riding his boiling tentacles. “You would be the hero, barbarian, but you are nothing but a dirt worm.”

  Ymir scooped up his battle ax, a plan forming in his head. He could save lives, and he could get revenge, and in the end, his name might not show up in the local town crier for once. Then, maybe, the fucking Midnight Guild would leave him alone. It was ironic that the school’s fate was in his hands.

  Using magic was iffy, with the circle of fish women, but he’d been able to use one of his Akkiric Rings. He then used the other. He reached out with his mind and found the ice blocking the citadel’s entrance. The frozen wall exploded outward in a shower of cold and crystals and debris.

  Marrib came forward, moving on his carpet of writhing black coils. His muscular arms flexed under his armor, twirling his trident.

  Ymir so wanted to put his ax through this bastard’s skull, but it would be better if he didn’t. Della and Doctor Naymer were still trapped by the feasting hall. A fight with the merman would take too long.

  Marrib stabbed at Ymir with his three-pronged spear. At the same time, the merman put up his tentacles to protect himself, almost like a living shield.

  Ymir had his ax in two hands. He struck the trident away and then hacked his ax into Marrib’s steel chest plate. His blade rang like a struck bell, deflected.

  The merman winced.

  The clansman laughed. “It hurts, doesn’t it? I bet your guilt bothers you more!”

  Ymir retreated before the merman’s tentacles could catch him. “You must feel guilty for what you did to your own brother, Marrib. To him, his wives, even his children. Perhaps Charibda wouldn’t be such an unsufferable bitch if you hadn’t murdered most of her family.”

  “You lie!” Raging, the merman came forward. More water gushed from his trident. Ymir felt the amwabs in the torrent and froze them, creating a wall of ice between them.

  The clansman raised his voice, “You hired mercenaries from the BuBanoa family, off the coast of Ethra. They must’ve been heartless mercenaries to murder children. Killing your women isn’t hard. They are warriors after all!”

  In a frenzy, Marrib smashed his trident through Ymir’s ice wall. The clansman danced back. “You’re here for the Fractal Clock. I couldn�
�t give two squirts about you, your visions of conquest, any of that elkshit. My friend is dying. I will give you the Fractal Clock, and you’ll leave. Are we agreed?”

  Marrib slithered back. Ice still clung to his face from Lillee’s attack, and he was burned from Jenny’s. The merman regarded the barbarian with a thoughtful look in the weird bulging eyes set on either side of his head. The slits of his nose widened and narrowed as the merman caught his breath. “I get the staff. And we end this?”

  Ymir nodded.

  Marrib Delphino roared out words in his native tongue. He raised his trident. The ice around them became water, and every droplet of every bit of liquid of the courtyard rose in the air to glitter in the first rays of sunshine to come shooting over the wall.

  The mermen fell back. Gharam, Issa Leel, and Francy glanced around, shocked.

  Marrib thundered in Pidgin, the common tongue, “All of you! Stop fighting. Merfolk and dirt worms alike. Stop fighting. The barbarian and I have called a truce.”

  Della was speechless from where she crouched near the feasting hall.

  Ymir only had seconds. He ran past Marrib and shouted to the Princept. “Get the doctor to Tori. She’s critically wounded. Help Jennybelle. She might be freezing to death. I’m ending this here and now.”

  The pavement was dry now, all of the water hanging in the air. Using the Winter Flame Ring, Ymir pulled some down to make a bridge over the moat, which was empty now. He ran across his narrow ledge of ice and into the Librarium. It was empty. The few scholars that had remained behind had left their posts to join the fight.

  Ymir was so grateful to be alone there.

  And, yes, down floated the fairies. Six of them, wings buzzing, carried the long ornate staff with a bulge near the top—a bulge large enough to house clockwork.

  Ymir ran up to them. “Ziziva, Lolazny, bring that to me, and I’ll take the blame. I know you made your deals with the merfolk to keep your supply of xoca powder, and I know Ziziva wasn’t very happy about it. Della doesn’t need to know I caught you. I’ll say I broke into the Illuminates Spire and stole it.”