Lizbeth almost smiled as she watched Adan’s transformation. His arms unfolded, his shoulders drooped, and he shuffled his feet. “I’m not harassing anyone, Laycee. You know I would never do that. I was just trying to collect my wife.”
Adan pointed in her direction. “Miss Laycee Titwilder, meet Lizbeth Hammerstrike. And what do you mean your dormitory?”
The gnomes face lit like a candle, and a smile spread all the way across. “With all my vast experience being governess ta ya sisters, Headmistress Seychelle made me the new dormitory matron for first years.” She then turned toward Lizbeth. “So, ya must be that little half-wood-elf lass Adan’s been promised ta for so long. My, how ya’ve grown since I last saw ya. Finally married him, did ya? Well, congratulations ta the both of ya.”
Then she glared. “So, what ya doing in my dormitory instead of in his bed? He’s had plenty of training I can promise ya. Saw ta the picking of his very first seducer personally. Wanted it done properly. The lad won’t have a problem keeping a smile on ya face all night long if ya know what I mean.”
Laycee’s face gentled, and she winked. Lizbeth wanted to climb onto her cot and cover her head with her pillow. Instead, she took two long breaths and blew them slowly out before answering. “I don’t wish to be in his bed right now. I wish to be here in the dormitory. I don’t want to talk about it. I simply want to go to sleep. I can do that, can’t I?”
Laycee Titwilder gave her a motherly smile as she reached up and patted her on the hand. “Had a falling out already, did ya?” She shook her head. “Barbarian men, I swear. Barely house-trained, if ya ask me. Of course, ya can stay here, as long as ya like.”
The gnome dorm matron walked to Adan and poked him with a finger in the kneecap. It was as high as her three-and-a-half-foot tall frame could reach. He jumped backwards as if struck by lightning.
“The lass says she wants ta stay here, so off with ya. And don’t think ya’re gonna be sneaking back in the middle of the night either. I’m gonna set the Tug alarm.”
Adan groaned and shook his head as the female gnome picked up the plastic blow-up doll that was at least twice her size with its brown, patchy berber chest hair and painted-on smile.
“Not the doll, Laycee, anything but the doll,” Adan whispered. “I’d really rather Lizbeth wasn’t exposed to Tug quite yet. There are things she doesn’t know about our family.”
Laycee Titwilder opened the doll’s tunic and pushed two buttons where nipples would have normally been and placed it directly in front of the door while pulling it almost closed behind her. With only a sliver of doorway still open, she had a few final words for Adan Hammerstrike.
“A Tug McGroin is nothing ta be ashamed of, and ya well know it since he was a birthday present from ya yareself a few years back. He’s a lean, mean, multitasking, plastic machine with interchangeable parts, and the best intruder alarm ever made. Not ta mention his talents as a vacuum cleaner, margarita shaker, and, well…other functions. Now get on back ta ya own room and don’t let me find ya lurking around these hallways anymore tonight or I’ll sic Leeky on ya.”
Lizbeth’s eyes met Adan’s right before the door finally clicked shut. She’d expected to see stubbornness, but she didn’t. She even expected to see anger, but she hadn’t. What she did see confused her. Adan’s eyes filled with sadness and disappointment, as if a good friend had just let him down. Even though she didn’t understand why, it made her sad, too.
****
“I won’t do it.”
Adan stared at his sister trying to decide on a new tactic. Reasoning with her certainly wasn’t working. “Why not?”
Lark shook her head. “It’s not my place to tell your wife she should be sleeping in your bed and not her own. There’s a lot more to marriage than sleeping together. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not wise to get other people involved in your relationships? Never ends well.”
Adan shook his head as his sister droned on.
“Anyway, she’s not going to be in much of a mood to listen to anything I have to say after wizard’s class today. Sarco has this exercise he does at the beginning of each semester to determine who has wizard potential and who doesn’t. He throws fireball after fireball at his students until there is only ten left standing. I’m his apprentice, and I’ll be there with him. I seriously doubt Lizbeth will make it through the class without getting hit so I doubt she’ll be in the mood to speak with me for a while, let alone take my advice.”
Adan drummed his fingers on the desk in Sarco’s office, glad he had finally found his sister alone so he could speak freely with her but frustrated that it wasn’t going as he wished. “Is there any way you can make sure she doesn’t get hit?”
Lark shook her head. “Short of asking Sarco to not aim any of them at her, I can’t think of a thing. I still feel guilty about using my abilities last semester to keep myself in Sarco’s class. I swore I’d never interfere again.”
Adan rubbed his chin. “Well, if you won’t talk to her and you already think she’s going to get dropped from the wizard class and you won’t help her with that either, then would you consider a little mind control just to make her more agreeable to my wishes? You know, some of that Spiritmaster stuff you inherited and I didn’t.”
The shoe she aimed at his head barely missed. “And you wonder why Lizbeth doesn’t wish to share your bed? I won’t use mind control on my own sister-in-law, Adan. It isn’t right. Why don’t you take Sarco’s advice and simply give her time to get to know you? Spend time getting to know her. Women have a need to be romanced. It makes us feel desirable.”
Adan shook his head. “She already knows me better than any other living soul. She’s been studying me all her life. That’s the problem. She knows every boring detail and can’t stand the sight of me. It’s driving me crazy. Everyone likes me, they always have, or at least, I thought they did. Do you think they were just being nice to me because I’m a prince?”
Lark came around the desk and gave her brother a hug. “No, I think people like you for who you are. I know I do. You say she knows everything about you, but there are things books can’t teach. I’d bet anything she doesn’t know the man who sat for nights on end in a stable nursing his sick steed until it was back on its feet. Or the man who hunts to fill the coffers of widows and the elderly before he’ll put a single scrap of food on his own table. And she certainly doesn’t know the barbarian champion who suffered his only loss ever to Sarco Sunwalker, when he could’ve easily won, just because he wished to see his sisters happy. That’s the man you need to show Lizbeth. Become her friend, Adan, the rest will fall into place.”
He tweaked her nose and smiled. “I didn’t lose just to see my sisters happy, that was a bonus. I lost to Sarco because it was the right thing to do. He needed to fulfill the prophecy, and the only way to do that and get the woman he loved was to complete his quest and win the right to choose you. It was the honorable thing to do.”
Lark laid her head upon her brother’s shoulder. “See, that’s the Adan Hammerstrike Lizbeth needs to meet.”
Adan gave his sister a squeeze. “Well, if you won’t help Lizbeth during today’s class, let me at least go to the arena with you and cheer her on. Maybe if she sees me watching, she’ll realize I’m on her side. Then, when she does get hit with a fireball and needs comforting, I’ll be there to step in and be the hero.”
****
Being a sore loser about the sleeping arrangements was one thing, but this was beyond ridiculous. It was bad enough Adan Hammerstrike was standing nonchalantly in the entrance to the arena, watching the entire proceedings. But then, to have him involve his own sister and brother-in-law in his despicable plan to get her tossed out of a class was unforgivable. It was obvious to anyone with eyes he wanted his bride to fail and be forced to return to his cold, white castle. Well, it wasn’t going to work.
Lizbeth dove sideways to avoid yet another fireball and cringed as muscles and bone came into jolting contact with the so
lid ground. The persistent nausea she’d had since arriving at the Academy reminded her once more of its presence, and she swallowed down the rising bile. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself again like she had in enchanter class yesterday.
As quickly as she’d fallen, she jumped back up and glared in Adan’s direction. Again, he grinned at her and even flashed a thumbs-up. Then he folded his arms across his fancy golden-tunic-clad chest, crossed his legs, leaned back against the door, and smiled arrogantly. Lizbeth seethed.
Did he really think for a moment she didn’t know he was in on this sick game with Sarco Sunwalker? Had even probably put Sarco up to it? No instructor would intentionally throw real honest-to-goodness fireballs at his students. Even if he had given the class the lame excuse of weeding out the weak. Someone might get hurt.
Another ball of fire whizzed a mere inch from Lizbeth’s nose, and she smelled the singeing of her own hair as she tripped over a dwarf in her haste to get out of the way. With an oomph, she landed hard on her backside. Standing, she dusted herself off, determined Adan wouldn’t see the tears threatening to escape from between her lashes.
Anger at the injustice of being singled out quickly replaced any pain, and Lizbeth turned away from her husband and faced her instructor. If her brother-in-law was going to kick her out of his wizard’s class by hitting her with a fireball, then he was going to have to do it while looking her straight in the eye.
Lizbeth noticed the second of hesitation in Sarco’s eyes right before the spinning ball of blue flames left his hand. She didn’t think. She simply reacted. Raising her own hand, palm out, she meant to shield herself from the blow, but when the fireball was a few inches from its target, something entirely different happened. With a loud pop, the ball of flames reversed direction and landed with a resounding thud directly in the middle of Adan Hammerstrike’s chest. The look of surprise on his face made the entire absurd game almost worth it.
The floor of the arena shook when his greater-than-seven-foot frame finally came to rest. Then there was complete silence for a total of six heartbeats. Slowly, Adan sat, shook his head, and looked in her direction.
Lizbeth grimaced as she met his gaze. Though the same arrogant smile still graced his handsome face, his eyes didn’t look quite right, they were glassy even from this distance. A moment later, she understood why, when Adan raised one hand as if he were about to speak. He got out three words, “How did you—” then toppled over in a dead faint.
Everyone else in the arena ran to the barbarian prince, but Lizbeth didn’t. She took the time to send a quick prayer upward to God Draka in the hopes she hadn’t done any permanent damage before making her way to him.
Chapter Six
Lizbeth winced.
When he woke, Adan wasn’t going to be pleased. His golden tunic with the fancy stitching and rich material was obviously beyond repair, and a singed hole the size of her fist in the middle of it left little doubt as to how. She stood on the outskirts of the group circling her husband and stared. What had happened?
Though she’d dreamed all her life of having inherited magical abilities, none had manifested before. Why now? Her mother had been a wood-elf, and though a wonderful person and a half-decent druid to be sure, there was no real aptitude for magic in her family. And her father? Barbarians were certainly big and strong, but magic wasn’t their weapon of choice. Swords and daggers were.
So why then? Why did the fireball meant for her turn and strike Adan? Lizbeth knew without a doubt she was responsible for it doing just that. The moment she’d raised her arm and opened her hand, energy had coursed through her. Not unlike the definition of channeling Briar had given the class again, just a few turns of the hourglass ago.
Had she channeled?
It had been the strangest sensation. Her fingers still tingled from it, and her arm was heavy. It had been a self-preservation reaction. Something entirely beyond her control.
Adan’s eyes fluttered open, and there was no more time to think about the why as his gaze cleared and found her. Lizbeth braced herself for his anger and was completely caught off guard when, instead, he laughed.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve been knocked flat on my arse by a lass. How did you do that, by the way?”
She made her way to his side and knelt, allowing her hands to quickly ascertain his wounds weren’t serious. “You deserved it, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I have no idea why the fireball turned the way it did or why it struck you. That’s what you get for putting Sarco up to throwing them at me in the first place and then for standing there grinning while I was trying my best to avoid them.”
Adan shook his head. “You have it all wrong, Lizard. Sarco does this exercise at the beginning of every semester, with every class. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you. And I was smiling because I was proud of my wife. All around you, others were dropping, but not you. Oh, no, you were magnificent. A true barbarian queen if I’ve ever seen one.”
Warmth crept into Lizbeth’s cheeks. “Don’t lizard me, Adan Hammerstrike. We both know you don’t want me here, and you’re doing everything in your power to make things hard for me so I’ll be forced to leave.”
She didn’t want to meet his eyes, but the touch of his hand, warm and gently stroking her own, drew her gaze to his. Then, he had the audacity to wink.
“You couldn’t be more wrong, Lizbeth. I want you anywhere I can get you, and if here is where you wish to be, then here will do just fine. Though, I would prefer the privacy of our room. And as far as making things hard for you, aye, I can think of one thing in particular I wish to make hard.”
Lizbeth swatted him on the shoulder, and Adan playfully grasped both of her hands in his own as he spoke once more. “In all seriousness, there is something I would ask of my bride. Would you give me one turn of the hourglass each day, Lizbeth? Just one shifting of the sands for us to really get to know each other? I promise you won’t regret it.”
Where once there was simply warmth at the point their hands touched, the tiny circles Adan made with the pad of his thumb against Lizbeth’s palm turned to tingles of unexpected pleasure. Tingles that traveled up her arm and straight to her brain, making it difficult to concentrate and even harder to breath.
“There’s no need, really. I already know all there is to know about you. And as for me, there isn’t anything of importance you don’t know.”
Lizbeth took in three deep gulps then held her breath. She tried to look away from the piercing, stormy blue eyes that saw too much. But then he smiled at her and she couldn’t. The challenge in his gaze held her entranced.
Adan chuckled. “I doubt a lifetime of studying you could tell me all there is to know about you, Lizard, but we must start somewhere, mustn’t we? Did you not bet me that you knew me better than I know myself? Shouldn’t I be afforded an equal opportunity to learn?”
Lizbeth’s cheeks burned with heat as she whispered her answer. “You know very well why I took that bet. You also know I lost it, so I suppose I don’t know you as well as I thought I did. It’s very ungentlemanly of you to remind me of it though. Especially in front of your sister, her husband, who happens to be my instructor, and my entire wizard’s class.”
Those same classmates began all speaking at the same time, and Lizbeth wasn’t sure if perhaps Lark and Sarco’s voices weren’t somewhere in the mix.
“Give the lad a chance, what can it hurt.”
“I bet she doesn’t.”
“I’ll take that bet. Just look at how she’s staring at him. She’s already more than halfway lost her heart to the lad.”
“Naw, my money’s on her. Don’t believe for a minute women are the weaker sex. They’ve had us by the willies since time began.”
“For God Draka’s sake, move away and give them a moment’s privacy please.”
The same thumb that had been stroking her palm traveled her wrist. The rough calluses formed from hours of brandishing a sword stoked a fire in her belly. Thi
s was no weak man. This was a barbarian warrior, and he was asking permission, not taking as was his nature. Still, she hesitated.
Adan grinned. “I could find a suitable chaperone if it would make you more comfortable. Say yes, Lizard.”
Lizbeth laughed. “I don’t need a chaperone. I can handle you just fine on my own, Adan Hammerstrike. And how many times must I tell you not to call me Lizard?”
Adan’s hand roamed the inside of her arm until it grazed the outer edge of her breast. He grinned lecherously. “I was thinking it was I who needed the chaperone’s protection. I can’t help but notice how very aggressive you look when you gaze upon me. But if you insist on having me all to yourself, who am I to argue? You will be gentle with me though, won’t you? After all, Lizard, everyone here has just been witness to you trying to do me great bodily harm.”
She swatted him on the shoulder once more as she rose. “You are incorrigible, Adan Hammerstrike.” But she couldn’t quite contain the smile that threatened the corners of her mouth or the fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of her gut. “One turn of the hourglass a day and that’s all you’ll get. Now leave me alone, you daft barbarian. I have classes to attend and studying to do.”
Though her mind was still befuddled and tiny sparks of pleasure continued to course through her, Lizbeth couldn’t help but wonder how she had let Adan win once again, and so easily. Shaking her head, she grinned, turned, and walked away. She still had enchanter class to get through today, and hopefully an enchanter class without Headmistress Seychelle’s pet Ray in it. She would just have to save dissecting her reactions to a particular barbarian for later.
****
“Quit fidgeting and leave it alone.”
Lizbeth reluctantly stretched both hands straight out in front of her and allowed Adan to lead her. “Why must I be blindfolded to go wherever it is you are taking me, and what is the blanket for? This is ridiculous. It better not require more than the one turn of the hourglass you’ve been allotted to get there and back.”
The Academy Volume One Page 67