The Academy Volume One

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The Academy Volume One Page 58

by Maxine Mansfield


  With a to-the-bone weariness, Sarco carefully placed the frozen flower and the stone on a nearby table, then he slumped to the floor and leaned his back against the cold wall. He put his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. All day and late into the evening, they had marched down the mountainside and then ridden through the gates of Castle Kuropkat. Just as the three moons of Albrath were highest in the heavens above, the group had passed through the portal and returned to the barbarian capital.

  Time was running out. Not much longer could even a sliver of darkness keep the third moon from being completely full. Tomorrow he must return to the Academy and complete what he had started.

  So this was it. Right now. The time to finish the third element of the quest and be done with it, and still, Sarco had no idea what to do.

  It’s with love in mind that a treasure becomes divine. What did that mean, and what did it have to do with the flower and the stone?

  He knew what love meant. His mind drifted back to the Academy and to the very definition of love. Lark. What was she doing right now? Was she sleeping? Was she well? Did she miss him as much as he missed her? Had she, by chance, found a way for them to get around the human rule? And what if she hadn’t? What would they do? He knew deep in his heart he could marry no other and still have a life worth living.

  The thought of an existence without Lark had his breath catching in his chest and an ache settling in the pit of his stomach. Could he manage to get through a lifetime without the sight of her smile or the twinkle of mischief in her molten silver eyes? Did he even care to try?

  Would his soul shrivel and die if he never again ran his fingers through her chestnut mane or touched her body in reverence? Would life lose purpose if he couldn’t hear the tinkling of her laughter or feel her soft sigh as she slept curled against him?

  His cock hardened at the thought of her, and though he sat in a chamber surrounded by ice, he burned. How long had it been since Lark had sheathed him? When was the last time she’d taken him in her mouth and sucked him until he’d exploded? Too long.

  The tightness of his breeks became uncomfortable, and Sarco undid the laces. His pulsating cock sprung free.

  He closed his eyes, envisioned Lark’s luscious mouth sliding up and down his shaft, and stroked himself. At first slowly, allowing his hand to tease, squeeze, fondle, and caress his shaft, savoring the fantasy of Lark. Then, faster, harder, more demanding, with purpose.

  His breathing quickened, his heart pounded, and the blood coursing through his veins heated to boiling. Pressure built at the base of his balls, rising up the length of his cock like hot magma from a volcano. When the explosion happened, Sarco shuddered from the force of the spasms. Hot cum coated his fingertips, and loneliness enveloped him.

  Not that his orgasm hadn’t been pleasurable, for it had, but it hadn’t been what he craved. He wanted Lark, needed her. He missed her more now than ever. What was he going to do?

  Sarco threw up his hands in frustration and accidentally bumped the table. He grabbed for and caught the rolling stone and frozen flower before they had the chance to topple to the floor. Staring at them, he gauged their meaning.

  Lark…He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  His fingers itched with the need to touch her instead of stone and ice, or at least that’s why he thought they were tingling until he glanced down. With awe he gaped as a soft glow pulsed and darted back and forth between the flower and the stone.

  Before his eyes, what had once been two, became one.

  Sarco blinked three times. There, in the palm of his hand, lay a ring. Not just any ring, but a shiny, deep-green, faceted treasure of a ring with a tiny, opalescent flowering bud. The small blossom rose from the middle of the ring to form a setting that could only be described as divine.

  He turned it over in his hands as a grin broke out on his face. This was no petite band meant to grace the delicate finger of Princess Aryanna. It was a sign. It had to be.

  He knew there was but one woman in all of Albrath whose finger this ring would fit. It had been forged from the love in his heart, and the seed representing the future generation they would forge together. It was meant for Lark, only for Lark.

  The heaviness that had settled over him earlier now lifted. With newfound energy, Sarco rose, refastened his breeks, and stepped with purpose into the night air.

  He looked up at the three moons and winked as he slipped the band into the pocket of his tunic, close to his heart. With a smile on his face and a new determination in his heart, Sarco headed off to find his bed. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

  ****

  Lark hesitated before the large, wooden doors of the royal suite and tried unsuccessfully to draw a deep enough breath to quiet the uneasiness settling in the pit of her belly. As if the sleepless night of a few turns of the hourglass ago hadn’t been bad enough, and the even longer unending gloominess of the day still hadn’t come to an end, now she was being summoned, and not by just anyone, but by Mother.

  Her hands trembled and tiny rivulets of moisture formed and made their way down the middle of her spine. Lark hated this about herself. She was a woman full grown. Why did she still fall prey to the all-encompassing fear of the unloved little girl she’d been every time she was in her mother’s presence?

  She turned to flee instead of facing the woman when, with a loud bang, the door flew open and out rushed an angry-looking Laycee Titwilder with Tug’s head bobbing up and down under her arm.

  The gnome wasted no time making sure the whole Academy and probably the majority of Albrath heard every word of her displeasure. “Oh, I’ll be glad ta move my things out of the princesses’ quarters, don’t ya be worrying about that. After almost twenty-six years of looking after and loving those girls, ya have the nerve ta tell me I’m mettlesome, disloyal, and my services are no longer needed? Well, ya can’t make me stop loving them, but ya can take ya governess position and stick it straight up yare hinny hole with a toothpick. As tight as yare arse is, I’m sure that’s all ya could fit up there. That’s probably what’s wrong with ya. If ya could loosen up and take a good shit, ya might be a tad less full of yaself.”

  Lark wanted to laugh. She wanted to follow Laycee and get as far away from this room as possible.

  She didn’t do either. Her mother, the queen, stared straight at her. There was no escape.

  “You’re late, as usual. I summoned you a quarter of a turn of the hourglass ago. Get in here and close the door. There is much to discuss.”

  Lark’s knees almost buckled as she slipped into the room and took her place beside her sisters. Chancing a glance toward Aryanna, anger replaced her fear when she couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges under her sister’s eyes and the tear tracks down her face. The twins didn’t seem to be faring much better. They were gripping each other’s hands and both had complexions as white as death.

  Lark lifted her head, thinking she was now ready to face whatever her mother had to dish out. She soon found out how wrong she was.

  Queen Allanna Zanlynn Calista Hammerstrike stood and made a production of smoothing wrinkles that weren’t there from the skirt of her white-as-snow gown. She patted her golden curls and straightened her glittering, jeweled crown.

  Then she looked down upon her daughters and sighed. “I can’t tell you how disappointed and distressed I am. I’ve been hearing rumors that simply can’t be true, except of Lark, of course. I would believe such treachery from her. But the rest of you? My sources must be false. My own dear, devoted daughters wouldn’t really try to thwart my plans, would they?”

  Lark held her breath.

  The queen made a production of fluffing her gown before taking a seat upon a golden throne. She patted her husband’s hand, and for the first time since walking into the room, Lark realized her father, though silent, was also present. At his wife’s touch, he flinched but didn’t look directly at any of them.

  Lark’s throat tightened, and the air in the room thinned. Her br
eathing became labored.

  The queen, however, wasn’t having any problem speaking. “What is this I’ve been hearing, Aryanna? You don’t wish to marry the elf?” She laughed. “Of course, you don’t wish to marry the elf. Who would? Look at the sacrifice I’ve made for this family by marrying your barbarian of a father. One does what one must, not what one wishes.”

  Stars floated before Lark’s eyes, and she forced herself to breathe in and breathe out. She tried to form even one coherent thought, but her mind was the blank canvas her mother’s words were being imprinted upon.

  “Marriage isn’t about all that love nonsense. It’s about power and prestige. You, my daughter, will be a great lady as is your birthright, and your children will have prestige. To have you become the next Lady of the Elves will add to my power and popularity. It’s a boon to have a firstborn daughter so highly placed. I’ve worked hard to see this match come to fruition. You’ll not disobey me in this.”

  Aryanna stiffened her spine and glared at her mother. Lark had always been proud of her sister, but never more than this moment. “It isn’t the fact Sarco is an elf that I object to Mother, it’s the fact he isn’t the elf I’m in love with. I’m in love with his brother, Cyrrick, and that is whom I wish to marry. I want to be the wife of a diplomat. I’m not you. I don’t care about power or prestige, and I don’t want to be a lord’s lady. I refuse to marry Sarco Sunwalker, and nothing you say or do will change my mind.”

  The queen smiled at her daughters, and the sight of it made Lark cringe. History had proven that nothing pleasant ever followed one of those smiles.

  “Well, then you’re in luck. After all, what do you think Sarco Sunwalker’s chances are in the arena against your brother? Adan is the barbarian champion and has never lost a challenge. So you see, my darling girl, we’ll both get what we want. You will have Cyrrick the diplomat. Though it’s beyond me why anyone would actually want an elf. And, with Sarco out of the way, you’ll still become a lady.”

  Lark’s gasp radiated throughout the room, but she didn’t care. She glanced at Aryanna and awaited her response. It wasn’t long in coming. “You would have our brother take the life of a good, decent man? Is getting your way in this really so very important? Why can you not understand I simply don’t wish to be a lady, anyone’s lady?”

  Lark swallowed back the sob stuck in her throat and closed her eyes. This was useless. There was no reasoning with the queen. But Aryanna continued to try.

  “It’s Lark you should be embracing. She and Sarco love each other, and she’d make a fine lady, really she would. And…and you’d still get to reap the benefits you so desire. I know you’ve always had an irrational displeasure with Lark, but she’s a wonderful person, Mother, and can make you proud if you’d but give her half a chance.”

  Lark opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, Aryanna clenched her fist and shook it toward their mother. “If you dare cause or allow a single hair on Sarco Sunwalker’s head to be injured, I swear, I’ll leave this place and you’ll never see or hear from me again. Then it’ll be on your head when the prophecy is not fulfilled and a war to end all wars rips your precious kingdom apart. What will happen to your power and prestige then, Mother? You’ll lose everything you hold dear.”

  Lark waited for the explosion. But the fact that the queen didn’t erupt scared her more than if the woman’s screams had shaken the walls down about their heads. Instead, her mother’s quiet smile and words of “Oh, really?” as she glanced toward the twins had ripples of nervous chills scampering up and down Lark’s backbone.

  The queen clasped her hands together and addressed the two identical sisters. “Ally, my sweet, I have news for you. I’ve been in negotiations for the past few days and the Prince of Karza has agreed to take you on as a second wife. Isn’t that simply grand? You are to become a member of the harem he’s building. I realize it isn’t as grand as the wonderful opportunity Aryanna is trying to throw away, but then, neither are you. And best of all, his entourage is here, at the Academy, this very moment and can whisk you away to his kingdom with no more than a single word from me. I’m ever so happy for you, dear.”

  Lark’s heart stopped for a moment and then raced. Trolls.

  Ally gasped, but it was Audrey who rushed forward.

  “You can’t be serious, Mother. The Prince of Karza is still more a child than he is a man, I mean, troll. I don’t think he’s even attained his thirteenth year yet. And even if he wasn’t a…a…a…troll, which is totally disgusting, Karza is halfway around the world. We’d never see Ally again.”

  Lark’s breath caught and her chest hurt from the exertion it took to simply breathe. Her mother would actually marry off one of her daughters to a troll? They were huge, green, horrid beasts with tusks, who didn’t bathe often and were known for their propensity to pick the remnants of their meals from between their teeth with the bones of their victims.

  Lark was used to hatefulness being directed toward her from her mother, but to see and hear the vindictive poison unleashed upon her sisters was a new experience.

  The queen chuckled, “Don’t worry about seeing Ally again if your older sister doesn’t do as I wish, my sweet. You’ll be much too busy. I’ve found a match for you also. Since I’ve been told you have a preference for men of a shorter stature, the dwarf duke himself has offered for your hand. You, my special girl, are to become a duchess.”

  Lark heard Audrey’s quick intake of air and watched in helpless horror as her sister’s face turned an alarming shade of purple.

  “You’d marry me off to a man older than Father? Not only older but smelly and wrinkly and who has already buried three wives? And a man who lives on the opposite side of the world from where Ally will be? We can’t be separated. We wouldn’t survive it. Please, Mother, I beg of you, don’t do this.”

  The queen laughed and it was the scariest sound Lark had ever heard. “Then I suggest you talk some sense into your sister. There will be a wedding to celebrate tomorrow, and she will become the future Lady of Landis or else. Yours and your sister’s fates depend on how selfish Aryanna wishes to be.”

  Lark couldn’t stand the anticipation or the anger bubbling from deep inside any longer. Even though the thought filled her with fear, she had to know what her mother had planned for her, for she had no doubt the queen had something equally, if not even more horrible, in mind.

  “And what of me, Mother? Who have you arranged to marry me off to, an ogre?”

  The queen really did laugh then, and Lark wished she hadn’t asked after all.

  “You, married? Don’t be absurd. I care more about our family than to try and pawn you off on some poor unsuspecting soul. I wouldn’t do that to even our worst enemies. Oh, no, Lark, for you I have a special surprise. All of your scheming and trying to steal your sister’s place hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

  Lark forced herself to breathe normal and remain calm. Not willing to allow her mother to see her fear.

  “I had a nice long chat with the head of the Rector yesterday, Lark, and he’s agreed to take you off our hands. He’ll put you where you can get help for your particular, umm, ailment. He even believes with enough time and prayer, the evilness within you can finally be expunged. And this opportunity doesn’t depend on what choice your sister makes.”

  Lark swallowed, and the lump that had been sitting in her throat hit the bottom of her stomach like a brick. So there it was. Mother had finally found a final solution for her spiritmaster-daughter problem.

  “Whether Aryanna marries either of the Sunwalkers or not, Lark, the day after tomorrow you leave here for a life in service to our Lord God Draka for the rest of your days. I’ve been told this particular abbey is situated in the middle of the desert close to VoT itself. As dry and hot as it must be there, I’m sure they’ll welcome a few cloudy days and a little rain. You may now thank me.”

  She couldn’t help herself. Lark’s knees buckled. VoT. Her mother was sending her to The Valley
of Torment. Before she hit the ground, her father spoke for the first time since they’d entered the chamber.

  “Now, Allanna, my sweet queen, perhaps we’re being just a little hasty. Maybe we should take some time and discuss this further.”

  The only thing scarier than watching her mother systematically attack all four of her daughters was watching her turn on her husband. With a screech that sent shock waves through Lark’s body, the room came alive with her anger.

  “Alfred, how many times must I tell you, if you don’t have something useful and supportive to say, then keep your mouth shut? There’s nothing left to discuss. I’ll have my way in this and that’s final.”

  Lark developed a tiny spark of respect for her father as he bristled. “Allanna Hammerstrike, I promised my dear mother on her deathbed I’d treat my wife like the queen she was meant to be, but I must admit there are days you sorely try my patience. I am king, remember? I have the final say.”

  The queen laughed yet again. “If you wish to pretend you have some authority then so be it, but we both know who rules, don’t we, Alfred?”

  Queen Allanna Zanlynn Calista Hammerstrike clapped her hands. Immediately the doors opened and in strode a contingent of barbarian soldiers.

  “My royal guard. I’m pleased to inform you, just this very evening I have been in contact with your prince. Adan tells me he’ll be returning to the Academy shortly after sunrise with Aryanna’s betrothed. The quest is almost complete and we must prepare for the wedding that will take place as the sun sets tomorrow evening.

  “Please be so kind as to escort my…daughters to the princess quarters and guard them closely. No one is to be allowed access to them, and they are not to leave their chambers or speak to anyone until Aryanna is escorted down for her wedding. If they attempt to disobey my orders, inform me immediately. There will be dire consequences.”

  Lark hung her head. There would be no happily ever after for anyone. Nothing mattered anymore, so why even try to play nice. She lifted her eyes and glared at her mother as she once more rose to her feet, straightened her spine, and lifted her chin. “Do what you wish with me, I don’t care, but leave my sisters alone, you fucking witch.”

 

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