The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  A moment later the door slammed shut with Aryanna on the other side, and silence invaded the chamber once more. Lark closed tight her eyes, trying to hide her tears from Ally and Audrey. It did no good. They seeped out and ran down her cheeks anyway.

  If Aryanna was being summoned to the Hall of Ceremonies it could mean only one thing. Somewhere in the recesses of that hall, a groom was waiting.

  Conflicting emotions and thoughts fluttered through her mind. Did he still live? Had Sarco somehow managed to beat Adan in the arena? Doubt and fears filled her. Lark knew her brother and his skill level.

  So, was Sarco dead then? Pain so intense it took her breath away shot straight through her heart. She had to know. This not knowing was driving her mad.

  Lark concentrated her energy and sent fingers of it out in all directions, seeking a mind, any mind, to probe for information. Just as quickly as they had gone out, the slivers of mental energy rebounded back and left her reeling. Someone, probably Grandmother Ava, had placed a Prevention of Probing spell upon the Academy.

  Lark shook her head. How could she have forgotten such a spell would be in place? After all, it was common practice when important diplomatic decisions were being made. Without it, undue influence could be applied from those who were well-versed in mind control.

  She crumpled to the floor, no longer capable of holding back the sorrow.

  Her two remaining sisters rushed to her side. Ally held her hand and cooed softly, “It’s not as bad as all that, you’ll see. You just watch. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Lark shook her head. “No, it won’t.”

  Audrey patted her back. “Mother won’t really send you to Vo…Vo…VoT, Lark. Even she can’t be that horrid. You know how she is, mostly hot air. She didn’t really mean it. She couldn’t have.”

  Lark wiped her eyes and hiccupped, “It doesn’t matter where she sends me anymore. Don’t you understand? If Sarco still lives, then this very moment he’s marrying Aryanna, and if he isn’t marrying her, then he’s…he’s…he’s dead. Either way, I’ve lost everything.”

  They sat in the middle of the floor holding each other, and that’s where they were when, minutes later, the door swung open once more.

  They all jumped at once, but they weren’t fast enough to avoid being surrounded. The same guard who spoke before again held a parchment high. “Princesses Allyssa Zoe Carmen and Audrey Zana Constance Hammerstrike, you’ve been summoned to the Hall of Ceremonies.”

  The two women screeched and clung to each other while Lark stood protectively in front of them with her arms stretched wide.”I won’t let you take them!”

  The guard made a motion, and before Lark could even think to act, four guards surrounded her and separated her from her sisters. The last thing she heard before the door slammed shut was Ally’s cry of, “Lord Draka help us. I don’t want to marry a troll!”

  Lark pounded on the door until her knuckles bled and she could no longer feel her fists, then turned and staggered to the center of the room. They were gone. All of them. Ary, Ally, Audrey, and especially Sarco. Gone, and she would never see any of them again.

  Soon the door would open again and this time it would be the guards coming to escort her. It would then be her turn to go to the Hall of Ceremonies where her mother would hand her over to the Rector. He’d then take her to the Abbey in VoT where she would spend the rest of her life.

  Her eyes burned with the need to cry, but there were no tears left to shed. In their place, right there in the middle of the room, clouds formed, the wind roared, and cold rain splattered down upon every surface.

  Lark lifted her face and embraced the droplets of water, hoping and praying lightning would form, strike her, and send her to an oblivion where the Rector, Mother, and her memories of the love she’d lost would never find her again.

  Her knees buckled, and if it hurt when Lark hit the floor, she didn’t feel it. There was too much competition coming from the torment in her heart.

  Anger built and filled her to overflowing. What right did her mother have to manipulate not only Lark’s life but the lives of her sisters as well? What right did the queen have sending Sarco on a quest that had probably meant his death? What right did Allanna Hammerstrike have to lock her away, when the only crime she’d ever committed was loving the one man not meant for her? Why was she still even sitting here, crying like a baby, when her sisters were facing their fates alone?

  Perhaps it was too late for a future with Sarco. Perhaps she couldn’t prevent Aryanna’s marriage to him if he were still alive. But, as God Draka was her witness, she didn’t have to sit here and allow her piss-poor excuse of a mother to marry off the twins to such hideous creatures as a troll and a dwarf.

  She didn’t have the slightest hint of what was about to happen, and it certainly wasn’t a conscious thought on her part when it did. She wasn’t even sure what prompted her to look up at the exact moment lightning flashed across the room and the door splintered into a million pieces.

  If the situation hadn’t been so dire, the looks on the faces of the guards would have been humorous. They stood in the doorway with their eyes big as saucers and their mouths gaping. For a moment, Lark thought perhaps she should explain, then realized she simply didn’t wish to.

  Instead, she faced them, her anger spilling forth. “Haven’t you seen it rain before?”

  The same guard who had read the summons for Ary, Ally, and Audrey held up a parchment and opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. He cleared his throat and tried again. Still, not an audible word crossed his lips.

  After a third attempt, he managed to squeak. “Princess Larksong, you’ve been…”

  Lark couldn’t take it. With her hair dripping in her face and her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Don’t bother. I’ve decided to summon myself to the Hall of Ceremonies.”

  The guard nodded and moved aside.

  Lark glared at the other guards one at a time, and man after man stepped back into the hallway and out of her way. She walked past the entire group with her head held high. “Come along. There’s no one left here to keep watch over.”

  The faster she walked, the madder she got. Memories of everything from her lost love, to her lost sisters, to her sad childhood, flooded her mind as rain poured upon the floor in sheets and the wind whipped ferociously. She could hear the guards slipping and sliding behind her, but Lark didn’t care. She didn’t even care that her tunic was plastered to her body or that water dripped continuously from the tip of her nose. She didn’t give a thought to the fact her hair was a soggy, wind-blown mass of tangles, and she looked a fright. All that mattered was opening the door, which now stood directly before her.

  This time she did it on purpose. This time it was no fluke. Lark concentrated every speck of magic she’d learned from Sarco, and combined it with her own natural gift of controlling the weather, to form a ball of pure lightning and aim it straight at the door.

  Right before it hit, she heard the guards behind her scrambling for cover. In the space of a grain of sand dropping, a huge hole gaped where a solid wooden door had once been.

  When the debris settled, Lark saw three things.

  Her mother tied and gagged, sitting upon her throne, which she didn’t understand.

  Both twins bending and kissing Sherman at the same time, which she also didn’t understand.

  And Aryanna smiling within the circle of Cyrrick’s arms, which Lark understood perfectly.

  So that was it then. If Aryanna was with Cyrrick, then Sarco was truly dead. She didn’t realize she was falling. All Lark knew was the warmth of oblivion surrounding her.

  She welcomed it.

  ****

  “Wonderful, wake up.”

  She didn’t want to. Awake meant a world without Sarco. Here in her mind, she could still be with him. “Not yet, my love, please. Let’s stay here awhile, shall we? I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Lark, I need you to wake.”

  T
he voice was more persistent now, and Lark stirred. “No…no…no, I don’t want to lose you again. Please, don’t make me.”

  He chuckled in her mind and shivers raced down her spine.

  “I love you, Larksong Hammerstrike, and you must wake and become my wife. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

  Tears seeped from the corners of her closed eyes, and her breath caught. “I so wanted to be your wife. I love you.”

  She felt a shake on her shoulder and strong arms lifting her. Though she fought it for all she was worth, Lark’s consciousness returned. Slowly, she opened her eyes, then blinked as comprehension of what she was seeing finally settled in. “Sarco?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re alive?”

  He nodded again.

  She laughed. “You’re alive!”

  “Yes, I am,” he chuckled. “Now, will you marry me?”

  Lark sat up and looked toward her mother.

  Sarco answered her unspoken question. “She was misbehaving, so your father subdued her.”

  Lark grinned. “And the twins?” She turned in their direction.

  “Both newly wed to Sherman, again courtesy of your father.”

  She shook her head. Could miracles really happen? “And…and Ary and Cyrrick?”

  Sarco looked gruff, but there was no anger in his voice, only anticipation. “Lark, you’re killing me. They are now married also. We have the rest of our lives to chitchat. Right now, we are all waiting for you to say you’ll marry me so we may get this wedding going. Will you?”

  She looked down at herself and cringed. “Perhaps I should go change first. I look horrid.”

  Sarco shook his head. “Oh, no, my lady. There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight until we’ve said our vows. And you are wrong, Wonderful. I’ve never, ever, seen a more beautiful bride.”

  Lark smiled and hugged him close.

  Within moments, bells rang and horns trumpeted in the distance as the three moons of Albrath, all as full as full could be, rose high in the evening sky. A rainbow arched across the length of the hall as Lark’s voice rang loud and true for all to hear.

  “I, Lark, take thee Sarco…”

  Epilogue

  If ever a man looked more handsome, more sexy, more exuberant, more…well, simply more than Sarco Sunwalker did this very moment, Lark couldn’t imagine such a man.

  Her husband was resplendent in his royal purple wizard’s robe, and he was hers, now and forever. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he thanked their guests.

  He gave her a look of total exasperation and she couldn’t hold back a smile. For the last quarter of a turn of the hourglass, they had been trying diligently to make their exit from the Academy’s Hall of Ceremonies. Apparently, it wasn’t to be quite yet, as more and more well-wishers lined up to say their congratulations.

  It really had been a wonderful party. Especially once she had returned to her room after the vows, combed her hair, and dressed herself in something more befitting the occasion than her soggy tunic. She had chosen the same white gown she’d worn the very first night she’d met him at Carnalval. It was appropriate, and the tiny flowerbud on her beautiful wedding band matched it perfectly.

  When Lark returned, the hall had been transformed and the rubble from the mess she’d created had been cleared away. Even the puddles of water on the floor had been mopped.

  Everywhere she looked, tables overflowed with food, goblets overflowed with wine, and friends overflowed the boundaries of the room. And dancing. Oh my, there had been dancing until her feet ached.

  The thought of dancing reminded her of her father, and Lark almost laughed out loud at the memory of that dance. While she had been splendidly twirled about the room on the arm of her father, poor Sarco had been left to dance with her mother, who’d remained tied to her chair. The sight of the guards carrying the still very angry woman upon her ornate throne as they followed Sarco in what more resembled confusion than dance steps was something Lark would cherish forever.

  A tug on the fabric of her dress got her attention, and Lark glanced down. Laycee grinned at her with tears brimming in her eyes.

  “Ya are a beautiful bride, my girl. Ya all were. And don’t ya be worrying your head a minute about that door either. I’ll have my Leeky fix it up all right and proper. He’s quite handy with tools, ya know. And he’s the sweetest man. He’s gonna take me out on a date later this very evening. Says he’s taking me ta the best show in all of Albrath. Why, we’re even gonna leave Bunny and Tug at home. Says he wants it just ta be the two of us. Isn’t that the sweetest thing ya’ve ever heard?”

  Lark hugged her governess and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you, Laycee, for always being there for me.”

  Laycee sniffed loudly and blew her nose into her hanky as her welled-up tears spilled over and ran down her pudgy cheeks. She tried to speak once more but was too overcome by emotion.

  Leeky, however, didn’t seem to have that problem. “What the paisley-plaid panties on the over-sized, zit-covered behind of a bald-headed dwarf doing the cha-cha on a barrel of pickles are ya thinking, lass? If I live ta be two thousand, and I have no doubt I will, I’ll never understand sentimental females.”

  He grinned up at Lark. “Don’t ya think it was bad enough when we said goodnight ta Aryanna, the twins, and their fellows? Took me nigh on half a turn of the hourglass ta calm her down, and here she is blubbering again. What’s a gnome ta do? Come along, Laycee. We wanna get good seats before the first act starts, don’t we?”

  ****

  Finally alone.

  Lark smiled up at her husband as Sarco carried her, not only through the portal, along the path, and up the stairs, but across the threshold of his room. He gently sat her on the edge of the huge bed in his castle suite, high atop the city of Landis. Quickly, he retraced his steps and locked the door. The light from the glow of a hundred candles gave the room a magical feel, and rose petals strewn across the quilt added to the fragrance of romance permeating the walls.

  Sarco chuckled. “Uthiel and Briar must’ve guessed I’d bring you here. Appears they came before us and prepared the room. They used it just last year for their wedding night.”

  He sounded nervous and Lark held out her arms. “Come love me, Sarco. It’s been much too long.”

  Instead, he paced for a moment before facing her. “I want to make love with you more than I want to breathe. It’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re my wife. My wife, for God Draka’s sake, can you believe it? I want this night to be perfect. I’m afraid if I touch you this moment, I may not be able to hold off long enough to see you satisfied. I feel like an untried teenager about to embarrass himself.”

  Lark hopped off the bed and strode purposefully toward her husband. “I wouldn’t worry too awfully much over it, my love. We have the whole night, and every night for the rest of our lives to perfect your technique. I’m pretty sure you’ll see me satisfied more than a few times over the next, let’s say, hundred years or so. Right now, though, what would satisfy me the most is to have your sweet, hot cock deep inside my pussy…pounding me…all night long.”

  She grabbed the lapel of his robe and tugged. He found her lips and she his, as, for the space of a breath, time stood still and all that existed in all of Albrath was this man, this woman, and this moment.

  A heartbeat later Lark found herself on her back with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Sarco grinned as he made a production of slowly slipping his robe up and over his head, revealing his gloriously naked body to her one inch at a time. His cock, already hard, beckoned to her.

  “What my lady wants, my lady gets,” he whispered.

  Sarco lifted her dress above her waist, teasing as he went with the touch of his fingertips on the inside of her thighs. In a single motion, he ripped away her panties, parted her legs wide, placed his hands beneath her ass, and plunged deeply into her pussy.

  Tremors of excitement
shot straight through her spine, landing quick and hard on her already swollen clit. It hummed and throbbed in response. Lark held on to the side of the mattress. Her thighs quivered and her heart raced. Their eyes locked and their breath quickened as, over and over, he slid his cock into and out of her tight opening. Her muscles contracted about him.

  Suddenly he flipped her onto her stomach, and entered her from behind, and pumped furiously. “God, what you do to my soul, Lark. One lifetime won’t be anywhere near long enough to make you understand how much I love you. How much I need you. How much I can’t even breathe without you near me.”

  “Shhh,” she whispered. “Remember what you always say to your students? Now is the perfect time. Show, don’t tell, my love. Show, don’t tell.”

  Sarco chuckled. “Your wish is my command, Wonderful.” His hands clutched tightly to her hips. The intensity of his strokes doubled.

  Lark closed her eyes and let the sensations consume her. Blood coursed through the veins of his cock as it pulsed deeply within her and matched the beat of her own heart. She could hear his sharp intake of breath, and then the explosive exhalation as he thrust wildly.

  He flipped her again until she faced him once more. “I want to fuck you in every position possible before this night is through. I want to look in your eyes as you orgasm over and over again. I want to see your pleasure, Wonderful. Share it, taste it, be responsible for it.” He leaned forward and took her mouth in a hot, wet embrace that scoarched her soul and thrilled her heart.

  The aftermath of his kiss upon her lips tasted of lust, and the essence of the man wafted through her nostrils, exciting her further. He smelled of magic and sunlight, dreams and desire.

  In a single motion, he lifted her completely off the bed and turned them around. Flat on his back now, he lay with Lark impaled upon him. With fingers quick as lightning, he divested her of what was left of her gown, and Lark gasped with pleasure as warmth flowed like waves everywhere his eyes touched. He stared at her nakedness with a lecherous grin.