The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  At a frenzied pace, they fucked, looking into each other’s eyes, both seeing the lust burning hotter than the desperation of the moment and glorying in it. Together they strove for completion.

  Lark knew Sarco was close to release. The telltale spasms jolted her with every plunge of his cock. They excited her as nothing else could’ve. With a vigor born of need, she rode him even harder, even faster.

  Close, so very close.

  Her eyes closed, her heart pounded, her breath came in quick bursts. Just as the first ripples of hot liquid burst forth to fill her, Lark’s muscles clenched and contracted. Sparks exploded behind her eyelids, and her body shuddered with a pleasure so sweet and complete, she sobbed with the joy of it.

  “Sarco,” she shouted.

  Outside, the snow had long ago stopped falling and a warm, gentle breeze melted away the last remnants. Stars shone brightly and the three moons of Albrath bathed the surrounding landscape in soft light.

  Inside the tower room, high above the Academy courtyard, Lark nestled contently into the haven of Sarco’s arms. Love so strong it radiated from the man lying beside her, infusing Lark with its warmth. Their limbs intertwined, their breathing slowed, their minds eased.

  Tomorrow would bring what tomorrow would bring. For tonight, though, no blankets were needed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  If ever a man was more alone in the world than Sarco Sunwalker appeared to be this morning, Lark would hate to see that man.

  She watched her lover, content for the moment to simply be nearby while he sat silently on the edge of her bed staring out the window. Streaks of faint light appeared in the eastern sky.

  Gone this morning was the wizard’s robe she was so used to seeing him wear, and in its place was traveling apparel she had never seen him don. A sturdy, white linen shirt clung to his broad chest, a pair of well-worn black breeks hugged his hips, and fine leather boots graced his feet. He was magnificent.

  When, during the night, had he slipped from her chamber to exchange his clothing, and had he even slept? If the worry lines embellishing his handsome face this morning were any indication, he hadn’t rested much.

  Lark wondered if she should tell him about the thoughts she’d intercepted from Aryanna last evening. She knew in her heart she couldn’t bring herself to do it right now. The man had more than enough to deal with, without her adding to his worries.

  Besides, what, really, did she have to tell him, after all? She’d heard nothing substantial, just a few random thoughts, and she wasn’t even sure they’d been whole thoughts. They were more like strong emotions—grief, shock, and guilt. Oh, yes, definitely guilt.

  Lark knew she’d have a hard time forgiving Aryanna if her sister was somehow involved in putting Sarco in danger. Not wanting to marry a man was one thing, but almost getting him killed was entirely another. And what or who had she meant by we? Ary had most assuredly included someone else in her thoughts.

  Was it Aryanna who’d changed the words in the leather book? After all, it was Ary who had insisted Lark give the text to Sarco as a gift.

  Doubts filled Lark’s mind. She thought she knew her sister well. She wasn’t sure now. What she did know, however, was as soon as Sarco was safely away, she was going to find out how Ary was involved.

  For now, she wouldn’t tell Sarco her suspicions. As a matter of fact, unless she could prove her sister’s involvement, she might never tell him. It could only serve to hurt him no matter who he ended up married to.

  But Lark was going to have a chat with her big sister just as soon as Sarco was gone. Oh, yes, they were definitely going to talk.

  So lost in her own thoughts was she, the sound of Sarco’s voice startled her and she jumped.

  “Sit with me, Wonderful. There’s something I must ask of you before I go.” His sadness enveloped her, and she felt his pain. The turmoil of his thoughts mixed and swirled together within her mind.

  She sat at his side, taking his hand into hers, and looked deeply into his eyes. “Anything. You may ask anything of me. There is nothing I can or would deny you. You should know that by now.”

  He faced her. “I keep thinking there’s something we must be missing. Some way around all these stupid rules and regulations of who marries whom and when.”

  He cupped her chin gently in the palm of his hand. “I have a project for you, Wonderful. While I’m gone, see if you can discover anything helpful. For every rule, there’s usually a loophole, somewhere, somehow. Research it, Lark. See what you can find. When I return, I’ll do my duty. I must. It’s who I am, and the peace and future of our peoples depend upon it. But my soul will know no peace, and my life will be endless, empty days without you at my side.”

  Lark nodded. “I’ll spend every waking moment until you return searching for a way for us to be together, I promise.”

  Sarco cleared his throat, stood, and paced before the window. “I have one more thing to ask. Something of vital importance.”

  A shiver of dread seeped into the recess of her mind and worked its way down her spine. She had no idea how she knew she wasn’t going to like what Sarco said next. She just knew she wouldn’t.

  “We have no choice. We must say the blocking spell, Lark.”

  Panic clouded her vision. How could he ask this of her? Not only was she to lose his physical presence, but their mental bond as well? She couldn’t do it. It was more than she could bear. A familiar warmth seeped into her mind and cradled her, as sobs she could no longer hold back shook her frame.

  “Don’t cry, Wonderful. It won’t be forever, but it must be done. The rules of the quest adamantly state I cannot receive help in any form from the one I wish to choose for a wife, or I may not choose her. I wish with all my heart, by some miracle of fate, to be able to stand before your father and choose you when this is done. I love you, Lark. You must know that to be true. I also know if you in any way were to perceive I was in danger, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. You’d help.”

  She lifted her chin a notch and gazed at him pleadingly as words tumbled forth from her lips. “Is there no other way?”

  Slowly he shook his head and let his mind speak the words his lips could not. “Not that I know of, Wonderful.”

  Lark nodded. “Then let us be done with this quickly before I lose my nerve.”

  Sarco placed five candles in the center of the floor. With a flick of his wrist, a bright blue flame appeared in the palm of his hand. A warm light infused the room as the flame leapt from his fingertips and lit the candles. The room pulsed with magic. The air vibrated with it.

  “I love you, Larksong Hammerstrike. Never doubt that,” he whispered.

  Lark sighed, “I love you, too, Sarco Sunwalker, with all that I am.”

  She closed her eyes and held tight to Sarco’s hand. Their minds meshed, their hearts became one, and together they spoke the words of the ancient spell they both knew they’d no choice but to cast.

  “Across time and distance between your mind and mine,

  For now, sever the bond only magic can unbind.

  For a season, an hour, a grain of sand,

  Let our thoughts now be solitary

  Until together we once more stand.”

  The warm feel of Sarco’s arms as he caught her up in a tight embrace was more torture than comfort. She trembled with despair. Gone. He was gone from her mind.

  She had never known the true meaning of loneliness before this moment. Even as he bent his head toward her, kissed her lips gently, and caressed her cheek, she couldn’t shake the feeling of abandonment.

  Then, without another word or a backwards glance, he made his way to the door and walked out. The closing of the door brought home the full impact of what had just transpired, and isolation came crashing in upon her.

  Solitude enveloped Lark like the darkest of nights.

  ****

  Aryanna fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, seemingly unaware of the wet splotches her tears made on the fabric.
“Don’t go. Please, don’t go. I need you here.”

  Cyrrick couldn’t take his eyes from the tearstains as he sighed and tucked her tightly against his length, as close to his heart as he could get her.

  “It’s not my wish to leave you, love, but I must go. Sarco wouldn’t be doing this damnable quest in the first place if it hadn’t been for my arrogance and interference. I don’t understand what went so wrong, Ary. There wasn’t supposed to be violence. I thought I had the situation under control. I swear on my life, I never for a single moment thought things would get so far out of hand. For God Draka’s sake, I nearly got my brother killed. I’ve ruined everything—our lives, Sarco’s and Lark’s lives, and possibly the lives of our people. How can I even look my brother in the face this morning without him seeing my guilt? I doubt I can.”

  Warm, fresh tears ran down his side as she lifted her head, sniffed loudly and hiccupped. “It’s that…that…that halfling’s fault. He’s ruined everything. Now we’ll never be able to marry.”

  He kissed the top of her head and stroked her shoulder gently. “Don’t blame Sherman, my love. If you must blame anyone, blame me. I’m the one who didn’t take your human half into consideration. I’m the one who didn’t do his research thoroughly. No, Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth didn’t ruin anything. I did. Perhaps he may have even done us a huge favor.”

  Red-rimmed, deep violet eyes starred at Cyrrick, and his heart contracted painfully at the glimmer of hope he saw flicker there. “What do you mean, a favor? Do you think there still may be a chance?”

  He took a deep breath and carefully thought out his words. “I have to be honest with you, Ary. Things are pretty grim, and I’m not sure if there is anything we can do about it. But as long as there is breath in our bodies, there’s a chance we may find some way around the human rule of who marries first. At least now, there’s a little time to research it. If it hadn’t been for Sherman, we wouldn’t have found out about the rule until after the quest was done. By then it would’ve really been too late. That’s what you can do while I’m gone. Find an exception to that rule, Ary. There must be one, it’s just a matter of locating it. I bet you can even get Lark and the twins to help, if you ask…nicely.”

  The mention of Lark’s name brought with it a new flood of tears. “Oh my God Draka, I forgot to tell you about Lark. She knows, Cyrrick. She heard my thoughts and she knows. She hates me. I just know she does. I could feel so much anger and hurt radiating from her. And she’s probably told Sarco by now, so I bet he hates me, too.”

  Cyrrick yanked the blanket over her body and tucked it under her chin, trying his best to infuse warmth into her and alleviate the shivers cascading through his own skin. “What thoughts did she intercept, Ary?”

  Aryanna sat up, wrapped the blanket tightly around her bare shoulders and looked nervously toward Cyrrick. “I can’t be positive. You know how thoughts are. Sometimes they’re just a jumbled mess all strewn together. I know I was angry with Sherman, and I know I was frustrated because all we’d so carefully planned was falling apart.”

  Aryanna hesitated for a moment then continued, “I remember feeling guilty because we’d hurt Lark and Sarco, but I have no idea which of those thoughts I completely formed or she actually intercepted. I do know she heard at least parts of them.”

  He tugged her back into his embrace, not wanting her to see the concern in his own eyes. “Don’t worry so. I doubt Lark even realizes what she heard, and if she does and if she’s spoken to Sarco about it, we’ll deal with it. Your sister loves you, Ary. That will never change, and if any two people in all of Albrath can possibly understand our motives, they’d be Lark and Sarco.”

  Aryanna tried to jerk away, but he prevented her from doing any more than lifting her face toward him. He took full advantage of the opportunity as he covered her mouth with his. When he finally had her panting against him, he released his hold and chuckled. Even to his own ears, the sound of his humor fell pathetically short.

  “Let me worry about what Sarco does or doesn’t know, my lady. Don’t give it one more thought. You just concentrate on your sister and on finding a way for us to marry when I return, okay? Now, let your man up from this bed and give me the clothes you hid last night, or I’m going to be late. You’ve had many turns of the hourglass to have your sweet, wicked way with me.”

  Cyrrick grinned and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I love you, Ary.” He leaned over and swatted her soundly on her smooth, naked ass and gloried in the way she bristled against him. “Be a good lass and fetch my boots while you’re at it, woman. I can’t be letting a perfectly good quest get underway without me, now, can I?”

  “Be a good lass? I’ll show you how I can be a good lass.”

  He knew he deserved the swift and sudden punch from her tiny fist as it impacted the middle of his belly. To have the last glimpse of the woman he loved be of her gazing at him and grinning like a mad woman, with fire and mischief blazing in her eyes instead of tears, was a joyous sight indeed.

  ****

  Sarco paced beside his steed and shook his head. He glanced toward Uthiel, Cyrrick, and Adan, shrugged his shoulders, and sighed. Where were Sherman and Leeky? The first rays of the morning sun were already ablaze, and dawn was well upon them. They’d been assembled in the courtyard for at least half a turn of the hourglass, and still there was no sight of the halfling or the gnome. Anger and frustration coursed through him. Five more minutes, that’s all he was going to give them. If they weren’t here by then, quest or no quest, he was leaving without them.

  The out-of-place sound of giggling caught his attention, and he turned toward the source. He shook his head in disbelief.

  Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth led his horse at a snail’s pace with both of Lark’s twin sisters fast on his heels, nearly dancing in circles about him.

  Each twin’s hair looked like it could use a good brushing, and all three of the little group grinned like lunatics from ear to ear. The trio appeared to be suspiciously well satisfied with themselves, and it was obvious they’d dressed in a hurry. Sherman’s shirttail was half tucked into his pants, and if Sarco wasn’t mistaken, his boots were on the wrong feet.

  The princesses, Allyssa and Audrey, were no better. One’s gown was conspicuously laced wrong and hung at odd angles while the other had mistakenly put her dress on inside out. Though he still couldn’t tell one from the other, it was the first time Sarco had seen them not look completely identical. Just what had the girls and the halfling been up to all night? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask when Adan beat him to it.

  “Ally, Audrey, don’t tell me you’ve been cavorting with this…this halfling?” the barbarian bellowed loud enough to wake the dead. “I can see it in your faces. You want him, both of you. Mother will stroke if she finds out. And have you no shame? One man between the two of you? On second thought, don’t worry about Mother, you’d best be worrying about me. As your brother, I won’t permit it. Do you hear me? Other cultures might get away with acting like heathens, but it isn’t the barbarian way.”

  Sarco almost felt sorry for Adan, almost. He might have if the blade nick on the side of his throat the hulking warrior had inflicted yesterday hadn’t stung at that moment, reminding him Adan didn’t need or deserve his sympathy. And then there was the idea of Lark’s mother stroking. That thought was so appealing, he couldn’t have prevented his lips from smiling even if his life had depended upon it.

  He grinned like a fool as Ally and Audrey both answered their brother, “Whatever do you mean, Adan? We simply came to see Sherman off. You’ve never understood us, and you don’t even try.”

  Adan held up a hand, and Sarco forced himself to conceal his pleasure at the other man’s obvious discomfort.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. That’s not going to work on me. You can’t tell me there isn’t more going on here than what you’re both ‘fessing to. My God Draka, look at how you’re dressed.”

  The twins folded their arms a
cross their chests and stared at their brother with identical innocent expressions, but it was Ally who spoke. “We did dress in somewhat of a hurry this morning, I suppose, and may not be our normal tidy selves. After all, we didn’t want to take the chance we’d miss wishing Sherman Godspeed and a safe journey. It would’ve been unforgivable on our parts if we had. He’s been so generous while acting as our personal guide this past fortnight. And there may be a tiny grain of truth to your concern that we find Sherman appealing, but then, that’s perfectly normal.”

  A chuckle escaped Sarco’s lips, and though he knew the glare Adan leveled on him was meant to have the opposite effect, it only made him laugh harder.

  “You should see how girls look at him, Adan,” Audrey wailed. “All the women secretly want him. He’s a very sexy man and famous to boot. And I bet you didn’t know he’s as much a prince as you are, and he’s even a lord, like Sarco will be one day? His kingdom is just very far away and small. That’s why not many people have heard of it or his status.”

  Sarco almost fell off his horse. His gut ached from the attempt to hold in the laughter dying to spill forth. Just when he thought Adan’s face couldn’t get any redder or the story couldn’t get any wilder, Ally chimed in.

  “And…and, what if we do both like him? What’s wrong with that? We’ve always done everything together. Would you expect anything different from us now? You’d like him if you’d give him a chance, Adan. Sherman is known far and wide throughout the land, not only as a prince among men, but also as a great wizard and a very good cheesemaker. He’s also a scholar. He’s taken classes on every subject imaginable. He told us so.”

  Both girls giggled, “He’s the Shermanator!”

  That did it. Sarco gave up trying to hold it back and bent double with laughter.