The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

Sarco rubbed his temples. “Yes, Sherman.”

  “You should try summoning one again. I mean, you almost had that second flower when you beckoned it with your wand. If you hadn’t had to touch it when it got to you, it would’ve worked. I just know it would’ve.”

  Leeky slapped his leg. “What the shriveled-up nut sac betwixed the legs of an older-than-fart-dust troll troubadour do ya think we should do? Personally, I liked it when ya tried ta thaw the ice around the third one and scoop it up in the frigid water. It still dissolved into nothingness, but the idea has potential.”

  Suddenly, the wind shifted, and with a loud crack a segment of ice holding two of the three remaining flowers gave way and slid into a deep crevasse.

  Sarco stared into the abyss. “Well, men, there’s only one flower left and just a small section of ice still holding back all that snow and keeping us from tumbling into that frozen darkness. What am I going to do?”

  Sarco glanced toward his brother. “Any ideas?”

  Cyrrick didn’t disappoint. “You could try using us. Perhaps together we may be able to accomplish what one alone can’t.”

  Sarco shook his head. “This is my quest. If anyone is to be put in danger, it must be me.”

  Cyrrick shrugged. “I realize you’ve always prided yourself on being able to take care of your own problems, but there must’ve been a good reason why the quest rules allowed you to choose companions. I doubt the purpose of our being here is solely to keep you company.”

  Though it took a few moments to come to terms with what his brother had said, Sarco acquiesced. “You’re right, Cyrrick. I do tend to get a little self-absorbed, don’t I? So, how do we go about plucking this damn flower and staying alive long enough to get it off this mountain?”

  Cyrrick paced. “I think Leeky’s right. Do you remember what Uncle Arizon told us about magic? A true elementalist must be able to control all aspects of his environment. The way I see it, we have a three-part problem, and though the solution could prove to be dangerous, I do believe it’s doable.”

  Sarco nodded. “Go on.”

  “First, we must pick the flower and somehow prevent it from dissolving.” Cyrrick hesitated for just a moment then continued, “Then, when the ice shelf does give way, we must somehow keep the snow behind it at bay long enough to get a head start.” He sighed and shook his head. “And, finally, we must find some way to beat a mountain of snow down to Alaria or get buried alive in the avalanche. I have a suggestion for the first two problems. The third, though, I have no idea what to do.”

  Sarco was relieved as, for the first time in days, Cyrrick stood before him and looked him directly in the eye. No deception, no guilt, no subterfuge, just brotherly concern. “I suggest we put Sherman to use. I sat in on a couple of your classes, remember, and I know for a fact Sherman can control fire, for a short time anyway. What good’s having an extra set of wizard hands along if you don’t make use of them, right? While he employs elemental fire magic and melts the ice away from the base of the last flower, you draw on the wind.”

  Sarco started to turn away. “It won’t work. I’m not an elemental air wizard, let alone a water one.”

  Cyrrick grabbed Sarco’s arm and halted his movement. “Hear me out, brother, before you discount my idea. Using your elemental air and water magic—and you and I both know you are competent in at least the basics of both—you will then take the water Sherman’s melted and quickly form it into a ball. When you have the water spinning fast enough, position it over the flower and open it up like a sphere. When it’s surrounding the flower, combine the water and air together and freeze the globe solid. That should allow you to simply bend down and scoop up the flower, for it will be suspended in solid ice.”

  Sarco rubbed his chin and nodded. “That might work. But the surrounding ice will still break away beneath the flower and the snow will surge down upon us.”

  Cyrrick shook his head. “I won’t allow it to. Even though I’m a diplomat by trade, I’m nonetheless a Sunwalker. I’m not as powerful a wizard as you, but there are still some things I remember how to do. I can hold back the snow for a short time, Sarco. I can hold it long enough for the rest of you to get safely away. Mother spent many hours teaching me water magic. Snow is simply another form of water. I can do this. I need to do this for you, for Aryanna, for all of us.”

  Sarco gazed into the set of eyes so similar to his own and finally saw what he’d been afraid to see for so long. Signs he’d ignored so he wouldn’t have to face their consequences. They were all there right before him. He could ignore them no longer.

  The conversation about the small leather book came back to him in full force. His brother’s words from almost a season ago burned through his mind. If you could, Sarco, who would you choose? And then, Practice these words over and over and over until you can say them without thinking, even in your sleep.

  Sarco paced, needing the time it gave him to think. Not giving a thought to what anyone else around him was doing, he immersed himself in memories.

  It had been Cyrrick who’d changed the words in the book? But why? Other scenes flooded his mind. Memories of Cyrrick with Aryanna fast on his heels as he ran into Lark’s tower room after the disastrous ceremony. And Aryanna demanding Lark take her place in his class. Even the leather book itself had been a gift from Aryanna. The glances between the two he’d seen so many times and ignored. Why hadn’t he realized it before? How could he have missed something so obvious? Cyrrick and Aryanna, they were in love, and…desperate.

  Sarco wanted to kick himself. He knew why he’d missed the signs. It was because he’d been more concerned with his own problems and station than his brother’s feelings. But then, if Cyrrick and Aryanna had wanted to be together, why hadn’t they simply asked for his help? He wasn’t unreasonable. Was he?

  Even the answer to that question made Sarco cringe. Cyrrick knew him well, and knew Sarco would have protested loudly if his honor had been brought into question. Honor had always come first, even before family. How had he allowed himself to become so shallow that his own brother didn’t feel he could confide in him?

  He chanced a quick glance Cyrrick’s way and was stunned by the determination he saw etched on his brother’s face. His brother was willing to lay down his life for him.

  Now he understood the true reason why this quest must be completed, and completed successfully. It wasn’t to restore his own honor and be granted forgiveness from a throne he cared nothing for. It wasn’t for the sake of the prophecy. It wasn’t even for the opportunity to choose whom he would marry.

  From the moment the words during the betrothal ceremony had left his lips, even before he’d realized something was wrong with the words he’d spoken, Sarco had known deep in his heart he’d made a mistake.

  He could not marry Princess Aryanna, no matter the outcome of this quest or the dictates of kings, councils, and rules. She’d never been his to have. She’d always been Cyrrick’s and he hers.

  The true reason for the quest was simple. Cyrrick had cared enough about Sarco’s happiness to try and find a way for him to choose a wife of his heart and still retain his honor and do his duty. His brother was even willing to risk losing the woman he loved if the quest didn’t work. It was important to Cyrrick for Sarco to finish what Cyrrick himself had set into motion. Cyrrick believed in him and his abilities to do this. If nothing else, that was ample reason.

  Sarco remembered the look on his brother’s face when he’d said, You were the only one who stood by me when I decided to become a diplomat, and I’ll make you proud someday. He’d always been proud of his brother, and was more so now than ever before.

  There was much they needed to discuss, but the time to talk would have to come later. Right now, Sarco needed to prevent his brother from sacrificing his life because of a sense of misplaced guilt.

  He stopped pacing, turned, and looked Cyrrick in the eye. “And how would you get safely away from the avalanche, Brother, after I pick the flower? I won�
��t chance losing you, Cyrrick, not for a quest, not for a kingdom, not for a prophecy, not for a woman, not for anything. You mean that much to me. There must be another way. Either we both get back to the women we love or neither of us do.”

  Cyrrick looked shocked. He looked to be about to argue the point, but never got the chance.

  “What the pickled innards of a patchy, red-spotted, nearly bald, drunken ogre dancing a jig on the top of a tavern table are ya thinking, lad? I’ve got the perfect solution right here in front of ya and ya aren’t even seeing it.” Leeky pointed toward Miss Bunny and grinned. “Didn’t I tell ya she’s the most important piece of equipment we could bring with us?”

  Sarco wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the gnome meant. He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched his chin. “I guess I’m not quite grasping it, Leeky.”

  The gnome puffed out his chest and looked indignant. “Why, isn’t it obvious? We’ll use Miss Bunny here ta beat the snow down the mountain.”

  Sarco’s left cheek twitched. “You mean as kind of a…a…sled or something?”

  Leeky cackled and rubbed his hands together. “Precisely, lad. Now ya’ve got it”

  His neck was stiff and Sarco rubbed it, trying to work out the kinks not only in the muscles but also in his mind. “I can see using the doll as a sled of sorts, really I can. What I don’t get though is how all six of us are going to fit on her. Even if we figure out a way to keep Cyrrick from being buried alive when he lets the snow loose. He can’t hold it back forever.”

  Uthiel spoke up. “Not to encourage Leeky because, well, we know what happens when he gets an idea. But we could make a chain from the ice to the doll. I’ll hold onto Cyrrick and Adan can hold onto me. Leeky can straddle the doll’s head and have her in position and ready to steer down the mountain. Once you and Sherman work your magic and gather the flower, each of you run, grab onto a doll shoulder and hang on.

  “When you guys are ready, Adan and I can yank Cyrrick toward the doll as he continues to hold back the snow. Right before Cyrrick lets the snow loose, Adan will jump onto Miss Bunny’s body and help hold Leeky in place while he steers. Cyrrick and I’ll each dive for a thigh and bring up the rear, so to speak. If we time it right, it’ll probably be one wild, crazy ride, but it just might work.”

  Sarco shook his head. “We can’t chance it. It’s too dangerous. Someone could get killed.”

  The sight of Prince Adan Hammerstrike bristling before him almost brought a smile to Sarco’s face. “I’ll not have a coward for a brother-in-law, Sunwalker. It sounds like a fine plan to me. All except the part about riding that damn doll down the mountain. I’ll admit, that’s more than a little iffy, but I’m game if everyone else is.” Adan glared at Leeky and the sight almost brought a smile to Sarco’s face. It the circumstances weren’t so dire, it would have. “If you get us killed, gnome, I swear I’ll rip your doll’s head off with my own two hands and shove it up your arse. Do you hear me? But if this plan of yours works, I’ll personally carry Miss Bunny on my own back for the rest of this crazy quest.”

  Leeky smiled and held out a hand to Adan. “It’s a deal.”

  Sarco shook his head, amazed, as, after the handshake, Leeky dug into his pants-of-many-pockets and hauled out a pair of bright red mittens. He made a production of slowly taking off the black fur gloves he’d been wearing and firmly slipping on the fuzzy mittens in their place.

  He laid Miss Bunny gently on the ground and straddled her neck with his bottom, resting just above her breasts. His stubby legs stuck straight out alongside her ears, and he enclosed both his fists into her flowing, blonde hair.

  For a split second a completely bizarre image of Ride ‘Em Cowboy invaded Sarco’s mind and he shuddered.

  Leeky looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “What the red, inflamed hemorrhoids poking out the backside of a constipated, green-eyed dragon are ya waiting for, lads? We’ve a quest ta be getting on with and a ride down the mountain ta be taking. My sledding gloves are in place and Miss Bunny’s raring ta go.”

  The men looked at each other and nodded.

  Sarco positioned himself before the bloom with Sherman at his side and took a deep breath. “All right, let’s do this.”

  The heat from Sherman’s fire magic melted the ice at the base of the flower, and Sarco closed his eyes as he dug deep into his memory for the spell to call forth the power of the wind to his fingertips. “From the four corners of Albrath I summon the air. Let the wind now do my bidding without a care.”

  The melted water spun in the small pool around the flower until the Maiden’s Desire bloom itself could no longer be seen.

  Again Sarco relied on his memory of magic. “From water to ice you will now be. Freeze solid this sphere I command of thee.” The water stopped spinning and a ball of ice formed.

  Sarco tapped Sherman on the shoulder and motioned for him to take his place on the doll. He then turned toward his brother. “Are you ready?”

  Cyrrick nodded.

  Sarco looked to Uthiel and Adan. “And you?”

  They nodded.

  Slowly, so as to not disturb the ice shelf before he had to, Sarco knelt and plucked away the frosty sphere with the flower inside. Immediately, what was left of the ice shelf cracked.

  “Get on the doll, Sarco, now,” Cyrrick yelled as he lifted his arms and extended his hands toward the avalanche of snow threatening to fall. “Hurry, I can’t hold this for long.”

  Sarco took his place opposite Sherman. He lay flat on his belly with Miss Bunny’s right arm tucked tightly between his legs and gripped her shoulder. With his other hand he held high the orb of ice. “I’m in position, come now.”

  Adan slowly walked Uthiel backward as Uthiel held tight onto the hem of Cyrrick’s shirt. Finally, just as Adan came into contact with the foot of the doll, he turned and laid himself along the length of her body, his face between her breasts.

  Leeky turned and grinned at the huge barbarian. “What the picked-at green scabs on the knees of a troll trollop giving a blow job do ya think about my girl now, Adan? Ever have yourself a piece of plastic? Ya know what they say, don’t ya? Once you’ve done plastic, nothing else is as fantastic.”

  Leeky cackled.

  Sarco wasn’t laughing. He was watching Cyrrick’s arms. They’d begun to droop from the strain. “Hurry, Uthiel, grab onto Miss Bunny’s leg. Cyrrick can’t hold the snow much longer.”

  Uthiel let go of Cyrrick, turned, and leapt facedown onto the doll’s leg and wrapped his arms tightly around Miss Bunny’s thigh.

  Cyrrick’s voice sounded raspy from the strain of his efforts. “Go on, get going, all of you. I’ll hold the snow back ‘til you’re safely away.”

  Sarco shook his head even though he knew Cyrrick couldn’t see it. “I won’t leave without you, brother. Let it go now and grab the other leg as we planned.”

  “I don’t have the energy left to hold on, Sarco.” Exhaustion weakened Cyrrick’s voice. “It’s all right, really it is. Allow me to do this for you, please. It’s my fault you were put in this predicament in the first place.”

  Fear coursed through Sarco. “No, I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself. Think of Aryanna, Cyrrick, if you can’t think of yourself right now.”

  Cyrrick’s arms almost dropped. Then, with great effort, he once more raised them. “I am thinking of Aryanna.”

  Sarco unwound himself, tucked the frozen orb deep into a pocket, and grabbed hold of the back of Cyrrick’s shirt. He forcibly dragged him down and the loud cracking of a solid mass of snow rent the air.

  The last thing anyone heard before the doll slid down the mountainside was Sarco’s shout. “We won’t be leaving a man behind, Cyrrick. I’ll hold on for the both of us ‘til you can hold on for yourself.”

  ****

  When Laycee turned the key in the lock, flung the door wide open, and flipped on the light, the sight in Leeky’s apartment was worse than Lark had thought possible. She turned in a circle and st
ill couldn’t take it all in.

  Panties, not just a pair or two, but stacks upon stacks of them, all the way to the ceiling. There wasn’t much more than a path wide enough for a person to snake through Leeky’s entire apartment. The rest of the space was filled to overflowing with women’s panties of every size, shape, color, pattern, and fabric.

  It was Briar who dared speak first to the stunned, open-mouthed group. “I must admit, I’ve often wondered what Leeky did with all the panties he’s been pilfering for the last twenty years. Now, I finally know. The Academy panty thief story is a famous legend, don’t you know? The stealing of panties from every female to cross the threshold of this place of learning has been a tradition and, although most suspected they knew who the panty thief was, not once has Leeky Shortz come close to being caught in the act.” Lark shuddered as Briar continued, “Wow, Laycee, that rascal of a gnome must really love you. I’m pretty sure he’s never shown this to anyone else.”

  Laycee’s eyes glowed with excitement. “He is simply the sweetest, most considerate man in all of Albrath. And to think my Leeky collected all of these. What a noble endeavor for a rogue.” She sniffed loudly and wiped away a tear. “I can’t remember another time I’ve been so proud of anyone.”

  Shivers ran down Lark’s spine at the disturbing sight. There were plain panties and polka-dotted ones, others were striped, sequined, plaid, flowered, and even bejeweled. Some were actually fashioned from precious metals. And they abounded in every style from grannies all the way to skimpy thongs.

  Though she knew to hold her tongue so she wouldn’t hurt Laycee’s feelings, Lark was glad Aryanna didn’t seem to have the same notion. Someone needed to talk sense into their governess, and Aryanna was evidently up for the challenge. “You can’t be serious, Laycee. You can’t really consider living here among other women’s undies? That’s too gross and disgusting for words.”

  Laycee cackled, “Live among them? Why, missy, I plan ta do more than live among them. I plan ta put every last pair of them ta good use. Why, I bet in no time at all we could create a couch, a few chairs, a couple ottomans, curtains, even a mattress and covers for the bed out of these. I even have a picture or two in mind ta hang on the walls. Fine material and Academy history like this should not be let go ta waste. That would really be a shame. These panties should be proudly displayed.”