The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  “There’s no need to try and explain the fireball incident. I thought it would be obvious to you by now. One of the other students in Sarco’s class must have diverted the ball of fire just to make you think you did it. It was a trick, Lizard, nothing more.”

  He chuckled. “Now, if it had been Uthiel’s wife, Briar, who hit me with a fireball, then I would’ve known it came from her. She’s magic all the way to her toes. Or even Lark. She certainly has more than her share of magical ability. But you? You’ve never shown any indication of such things, Lizbeth, and though I’m sure your talents are vast, there’s nothing magical about you.

  “Forget this silly enchanter stuff before you embarrass yourself. You have nothing to prove. You’re perfectly acceptable just as you are. Queens don’t need to be magical. My mother isn’t.”

  The first fat drops of rain fell as Lizbeth jumped to her feet. Tears stung her eyes as she fought to control the shaking of her limbs. “Embarrass myself? Is it really me you’re worried will be embarrassed if I fail? Or are you afraid I’ll embarrass you? And…and since your mother doesn’t have magic abilities, I shouldn’t strive to hone mine?”

  Her voice cracked, and Lizbeth swallowed twice as she took a deep breath. She clenched and unclenched her fists over and over again. “Well, I can’t be like her, and I won’t. I couldn’t care less what your opinion of me is, and I don’t need you to believe in me, Adan Hammerstrike. You just watch, though, I’ll prove to you I have magic in me. I’ll become the best enchantress you’ve ever seen.”

  She picked up her tunic, spun on her heels and headed toward the portal. A moment later, she turned around and faced her husband. Adan was quickly gathering his own clothing, the blanket, and heading in her direction.

  Lightning flashed across the angry sky and thunder rolled in the distance. Rain pelted the sand, and Lizbeth shouted above the wind. “Don’t follow me, Barbarian. I don’t like you, remember?”

  ****

  The wind rattled the windows of the dorm room so hard Lizbeth was afraid they might break. She huddled further under her thin coverlet, hugged her arms about herself, and rocked back and forth. The blockhead, the barbarian blockhead wanted her to be more like his mother? For at least the hundredth time since she’d arrived back at the Academy a few turns of the hourglass ago, Lizbeth was glad she hadn’t told Adan the real reason she wanted to become an enchantress. Not only wanted, but needed to. It was their only hope for a future together.

  She punched her pillow and shoved it back under her head as she fought a losing battle with her tears. He would never understand even if she did dare tell him. Not only would he not understand, he wouldn’t believe her any more than her brothers had.

  It wasn’t as if they’d been cruel on purpose, for they hadn’t. Since their parents’ deaths, Lionel, Leonitis, and Levi Soulenticer had provided a solid roof over her head, clothing on her body, and food in her belly. They had also a provided a fine, if slightly one-sided, education.

  She knew she had no reason to complain because they considered her nightmares to be simply the ravings of a hysterical female. What had always bothered her though, was the fact they wouldn’t even consider the possibility her fears could have any real basis. Not only wouldn’t they consider it, but they had adamantly refused to hear another word about it years ago. So, since then, when the nightmares threatened, she had taken her comfort from the book.

  Lizbeth peeked out from under the cover and glanced around the dark dorm room. Not a single person stirred. Slowly, she leaned over the edge of her bed and slid her hand beneath the frame until her fingers came in contact with old leather. The familiar rush of warmth she got whenever she touched the volume infused her, and she sighed. Pulling it close up against her heart, Lizbeth quickly lit a small candle, said a protection from fire spell, and huddled once more in the center of her bed with the coverlet over her head to hide the light.

  Goelz’s Study of Enchantments.

  Lizbeth ran her fingers lovingly over the faded, gold-lettered title of the book. Written by the greatest enchanter Albrath had ever known, Horatio Goelz, the man she’d named her bunny after, had long been her hero. The book was her most prized possession. It was old, very old, and probably had been even the day she’d found it in the basement of her parents’ castle when she was but a small child.

  It had been dusty and discarded, and left to decay. Finding it had been her salvation, for within its pages, lay not only hours of escape from the nightmare of Master Seiger, but magic and the solution to all her fears.

  Adan had asked her why she wanted to become an enchantress, but would he really want to hear the answer? Probably not. She needed to become an enchantress because of his mother the queen. Because she’d always known that someday she would have to do her duty and marry Adan Hammerstrike. She’d always known she would have to go live in his castle where the Queen, and probably even Master Seiger, would still be in residence. And she’d always known she’d have to give him heirs. Heirs the Queen and her evil instructor would have access to.

  She had to protect her children. Never would they be stuffed in a trunk. Never would they be told don’t tell. Never would they lose their air. That was the promise she’d made to herself. It was the only way she could convince herself to go through with the marriage contract.

  Lizbeth flipped the book’s cover open and the smell of old ink and parchment was as comforting as the aroma of a feast to a starving man. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the peace of it to seep into her soul. Outside, the winds calmed.

  Again, like so many times over the years, she searched the pages, stopping at the ones that were special to her. Pages that held very particular spells. Like the spells for Talisman-of-Protection, so no one would be able to so much as touch the person who wore it unless the caster wished it. Spells so powerful their magic could cover an entire castle or a space no bigger than the head of a pin. Spells that could reach across great expanses and affect many people and spells so precise they could single out one heartbeat from another. But they all had one thing in common. They could only be spoken into power by an enchanter.

  They weren’t like the normal everyday spells such as the PDUP, the Protection-From-Disease-and-Unwanted-Pregnancy spell. Or even the Directional-Compass so you never got lost spell. Let alone the routine Protection-from-Physical-Harm spells children were taught before they could even walk. No, these spells required much more. They required specific ingredients, intense concentration, the ability to wield magic, and most important of all, the strength of character to believe in oneself.

  Lizbeth yawned, blew out the candle, and carefully closed the book. She wrapped her arms about it as if the power between its pages could ward off nightmares, and closed her eyes. “As God Draka is my witness I will not fail us,” she whispered into the darkness. “Even though you don’t understand, Adan, I will become an enchantress, for you, for me, and for our children. We will not live in fear.”

  Thunder rumbled once more.

  ****

  “You said what to her? Did growing up with four sisters teach you nothing about women?”

  Adan jumped as lightning streaked across the night sky and thunder shook the room. “Will you please stop doing that? I honestly don’t understand what I did wrong. One moment we were lying on the beach laughing and talking, then before more than a smattering of grains of sand could get the chance to sift through the hourglass, Lizbeth jumped up, and stomped through the portal. All I asked was why she wanted to become an enchantress. She’s hiding something, I just know it.”

  Lark glared at him. Adan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

  “Don’t blame the weather on me tonight, dear brother. Sometimes a storm is simply a storm. Whether she’s hiding something from you or not, telling your wife she is certain to fail at her chosen profession because she couldn’t possibly be magic enough to succeed, especially compared to me, your sister, and your friend’s wife, Briar, is a little more than si
mply asking her why she wants to be an enchantress. Then to make matters worse, you all but directly compared her, unfavorably I might add, to our lunatic mother. That alone is tantamount to marital suicide.”

  Even with his eyes closed, he could tell his sister was not only pacing, but building up a head of steam that was near ready to explode. Adan sighed as she continued her rant.

  “Of course she’s hiding something. She’s female, isn’t she? We all have…things we like to keep to ourselves. But when you ask your wife a question, unless it has something immediate to do with the defense and safety of your family and castle, your duty as a husband is to keep your mouth shut, nod vigorously, and smile at her answer.”

  Adan ran a hand through his hair. His head hurt, his stomach growled, and his bones ached with weariness. “So, how do I make this right?”

  A knock interrupted the discussion, and Lark headed toward the door. “Sarco must have forgotten his key again.”

  When the door swung open, however, it wasn’t his sister’s husband standing there.

  Adan groaned. He’d always had a soft spot for the female gnome who’d once been governess to all four of his sisters, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood for whatever business brought Miss Laycee Titwilder to Lark’s door. Especially considering her large, watery brown eyes had lit up like twin torches the moment they caught sight of him.

  “Adan, oh good, ya’re here, too. Now I won’t have ta hunt ya down.” She carefully held up two identical manila envelopes as if they were made of the purest gold. “As I’m sure ya’ve both heard, my dear brother, O.T.T., is here at the Academy, giving a series of lectures this semester on his specialty—historical artifacts.”

  She grinned from ear to ear. “Leeky and I are throwing a party tomorrow evening in his honor, and we’d consider it a huge favor if ya and yare spouses would attend. I know it’s been a long time, but ya two remember O.T.T., don’t ya? Ta think, the assistant ta the assistant of gnome and ogre affairs, came all the way from the other side of the world just ta give lectures and visit with me. I’m so proud.”

  Adan looked longingly at the door. Not that he had anything against Laycee’s brother. He just had bigger problems on his mind right now, the least of which, gnome parties.

  Laycee folded her arms across her more than ample bosom. “It’ll be the party of the season. Everyone who is anyone will be there. Even Headmistress Seychelle has agreed ta stop by. And Briar, of course, will be in attendance.” For a moment, a crease furrowed Laycee’s brow. “Though not Uthiel, I’m afraid. He’s still rebuilding that drafty old Castle Kuropkat and can’t make it.”

  As quickly as the crease across her forehead formed, it was gone, and a smile once again graced her chubby face. “Oh, and just wait until ya see the special outfits I’ve been fashioning for me, Tug, and Leeky. Been working on them all week. Sometimes I amaze myself. By the way, since it’s almost the start of Samhain, the theme is end of autumn, beginning of winter, so dress accordingly.”

  Laycee Titwilder turned, and back through the door she scurried. Over her shoulder, she gave one last departing message. “Party of the season, I tell ya. Starts at sundown, don’t be late.”

  Even before she opened her mouth, from the gleam in her eye and the smirk on her face, Adan knew he wasn’t going to like whatever Lark was about to say. Then she giggled.

  “You really want to know how to make things right with Lizbeth? I say take her to Laycee and Leeky’s party. Trust me, compared to what she’s bound to hear there, she’ll think anything that comes out of your mouth to be pure poetry.”

  Adan wasn’t amused.

  Chapter Eight

  What was he up to now?

  Lizbeth glanced once more through the open doorway of her enchanter class and, just as he’d been for the last half-turn of the hourglass, there was Adan Hammerstrike, directly across the hallway, pacing back and forth like a caged animal and starring at her. Did he honestly think since he’d failed to talk her into throwing away her dreams yesterday, he could intimidate her today and get her to quit? Well, it wasn’t going to work. All his antics were likely to accomplish was to make her even more determined to stay and prove him wrong.

  Finally, the bell tolled the end of class, and Lizbeth took two deep calming breaths and prepared to face her husband. Even though she had hugged her precious book close to her chest all night long, she hadn’t slept well. She was tired, grumpy, and hungry, and at the same time, a little nauseated. Her breasts were tender even though her cycle of the moons wasn’t due for a few more rotations of the sun, every muscle in her body ached, and her head pounded. To make matters worse, the entire day had been cold, gray, and drizzly. If it was a fight the barbarian wanted, then a fight was what he would get. She lifted her chin, straightened her spine, and prepared to meet Adan.

  Before she could get within verbal sparring range, he held up both hands.

  “Truce, my lady? You look near ready to do battle, and it’s not my intention to fight with you this day. I admit, at times my mouth gets ahead of my brain, and I’m truly sorry about what was said yesterday. Forgive me, Lizbeth? I’m here only to inform you of an invitation we have received, nothing more.”

  For the space of a heartbeat, she was disappointed he didn’t wish to fight. All day, a nervous energy had flowed through her and she’d found herself looking forward to the chance to dissipate some of it with a shouting match. Instead, she settled for answering his question with one of her own. “An invitation for what?”

  Though Adan smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes and there was no joy behind it. “A gathering this very evening, Lizard. Laycee has requested our presence at a party in her brother’s honor. I realize this is short notice, and if you don’t wish to attend, I’ll understand. After all, I’m sure you have better things to do than sit around a boring, stuffy dinner party for a gnome you don’t even know. On second thought, don’t give it another thought. I’ll be more than glad to give Laycee and Leeky your regrets.”

  He turned to go, and Lizbeth knew without a doubt he didn’t wish her to be present at the party with him. Was he really so ashamed she was his wife that he didn’t want to be seen with her? Or was there something or perhaps someone else behind his reluctance? Anger hot and sudden bubbled forth.

  “I don’t suppose my dorm-mates, your Pooksie-pie club, will be there, will they? After all, since Laycee is giving the party, I doubt she’d single me out and not invite them. Is that the real reason you don’t want me to be there with you, Adan? Since I’m not begging to share your bed, you’ll take your pleasure elsewhere?”

  His mouth gaped, but for long minutes, no sound came out. Finally, just as Lizbeth was beginning to realize she’d most probably misjudged him, Adan spoke. “For all your complaining about the years of endless classes where I was the main subject, your lack of understanding even my most basic characteristics never fails to astound me. Your low opinion is undeserved, my lady. It truly was your best interest I had at heart. Now, however, I insist you grace me with your presence. After all, you do owe me my one turn of the hourglass this evening, and nothing teaches a better lesson like firsthand experience. The theme is end of autumn/beginning of winter/Samhain, so dress accordingly. I’ll pick you up at sunset.”

  He leaned in close and whispered against the ridge of her pointed ear. “Oh, and Lizard, it’s just a suggestion, but if I were you, even though there will be food served, I’d eat before you get there.”

  Adan chuckled, but instead of making Lizbeth smile, it sent cold shivers down her spine.

  ****

  She had insulted him without reason and knew it. Not only did she know her words had been unjustified, but if the sour, stiff look on Adan’s face was any indication, she was going to have a very long evening to regret them. Even her sincere “I’m sorry” had been met with nothing but cold silence when, good to his word, Adan had called for her promptly, just as the last rays of the sun were tucking the horizon in for the night.

  Li
zbeth tried to keep her eyes on anything other than her husband as he led her through corridor after corridor and down first one flight of stairs to the left, then another to the right, until finally they were in the very underbelly of the Academy. She glanced at dusty pipes overhead and slabs of plain, reddish stone that made up the floor below as they followed a winding trail.

  She didn’t want to notice how splendid he looked this evening, but she did. From head to toe, Adan Hammerstrike was every inch the barbarian prince. His golden mane curled seductively about the nape of his neck, and his anger at her only proved to add sparks of blue fire to his already strikingly azure eyes. The soft harvest-gold suede of his snug-fitting tunic and breeks kissed and caressed his tall, muscular frame, teasing her senses with what she knew to be hidden beneath.

  Shaking her head, Lizbeth let out a breath. What was wrong with her today? One moment she wanted to flay him alive and the next all she could think about was running her fingers through his hair while her tongue licked every inch of his body.

  Suddenly, Adan stopped before a plain wooden door and Lizbeth didn’t have any more time to analyze her emotions as he turned toward her. What she did notice, however, was the anger was gone from his gaze. For the first time since he’d picked her up, she relaxed enough to smile.

  “I thought not to warn you about the situation we are about to find ourselves in, but, in good conscience, I can’t do that. Though, you would deserve no less for being so disagreeable earlier.”

  Lizbeth had the grace to blush as Adan tweaked her nose and granted her a smile.

  “I don’t know if there is any way to prepare you for what you are about to see and hear, my lady, but I’m obligated to try. Leeky is a friend of mine, and I’d lay down my life for him without reservation just as he would for me, and Laycee…well, she’s family and has been for as long as I can remember, but never forget for a moment, they are gnomes.”