The Academy Volume One

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The Academy Volume One Page 83

by Maxine Mansfield


  He glanced at Lizbeth. “How?”

  He watched as her face turned a bright shade of crimson, and she began wringing her hands.

  “Lizbeth, what did you promise Karla for the knife?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a garbled squeak.

  Suddenly the door in front of them flew open and out walked Karla in all her troll splendor. “Where’s my Thad?”

  Adan’s blood rushed to his feet as realization of what the girls had used as a bargaining chip filled his mind. He stared at Lizbeth, hoping to be wrong. “You didn’t. You couldn’t have? Laycee would’ve never? Would she?”

  Lizbeth shrugged.

  Karla wasn’t wasting any time as she advanced on the group. “Thaddeus Titwilder, yout little rascal, yout. Where be thee? Come give Karla a big kiss. I’ve missed yout.”

  Even though O.T.T. was small, Adan heard him hit the ground like a boulder. He turned just in time to see the poor little gnome lying face down in the dirt. He couldn’t believe it.

  Adan shook his head and glared at Laycee. “Your own brother? You gave your very own brother to a…a troll? And not just any troll, but the troll who unmanned him?”

  Laycee hung her head, shuffled from one foot to another then back again before looking up once more. “He’ll be fine, and it’s only ’til we return the knife. It’ll be for the best, you’ll see. O.T.T. isn’t stupid. He’ll be careful with what he says this time around. And just look at her. It’s obvious ta anyone who’s got two eyes in their head, Karla’s still plenty sweet on him.”

  O.T.T. gained consciousness just long enough to gaze into the face of the big green female who held him tightly in her arms. His eyes widened, his breathing came in short strangled little gasps, and he promptly passed out once again.

  Ray took notes, lots and lots of notes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The castle’s subterranean vault was not only dark and damp but chilly. Lizbeth attempted to draw her shawl closer about herself in hopes of staving off the shivers running the length of her spine. It didn’t work. Not only were both her hands too full to accomplish the feat, but instinctively, she realized the cold wasn’t so much from the temperature of the air, as it was from fear.

  Time had run out.

  In a matter of a few hours, when the sun rose high above the stone walls of Castle Kuropkat, Adan would leave this place they’d arrived at earlier in the day and go in search of the nogard. Tomorrow the full weight of the mistake she’d made during her final exam would come to bear.

  Unless she could manage to accomplish what she’d failed miserably at so many times before, she knew in her heart of hearts she stood a very good chance of losing the only man she would ever love. The talisman of protection was the lone answer. It was now or never.

  She placed the candle she held onto the rough wooden table before her and gently set down her most prized possession. As they always did when in close proximity to the old volume, her fingers tingled in anticipation of opening it. She allowed them free rein for a few moments and stroked the familiar, worn leather binding of Goelz’s Study of Enchantments.

  She quickly flipped through its pages, and the book, as if realizing what she needed, fell open to the one set of spells Lizbeth hadn’t yet been able to master. The enchantments of protection.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated on steadying her shaking hands. This time there could be no mistakes, no failure. She could do this. She simply must.

  The babe chose that moment to remind her of his presence as thunder rumbled somewhere off in the distance. Lizbeth emptied the pockets of her tunic and set down the remaining items she’d been carrying.

  With both hands, she cradled the small paunch her tummy had become. “Shush, Zander. Momma has work to do. You don’t want to wake your father, do you? I’m already in enough trouble with him. Go back to sleep.” And even though she wasn’t sure if it was for the baby’s benefit or her own, she added, “Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

  The skies outside quieted, and Lizbeth smiled. When exactly had she begun to know the child growing within her body as Zander? No longer was he thought of as the mischievous little Spiritmaster, but he had become an honest-to-goodness person and so much more than the conglomeration of cells of just a few weeks ago. He was growing rapidly these days, and when she was quiet and still, he moved within her and tucked himself securely under her heart.

  Even though Adan’s mother certainly would never be counted among her favorite people, the Royal House of Hammerstrike tradition was still tradition and very important to the realm. Barbarian custom dictated it was the mother’s responsibility and right to name the children. The King, the Queen, and all of their children, except for Lark, shared the same initials, A.Z.C.H., as had the majority of the King’s direct ancestors as far back as the royal family could be traced.

  So would this child.

  Lizbeth fervently hoped Adan would be pleased with the name she had chosen for his heir. Upon his birth, Alex Zander Collin Hammerstrike, Zander to his mother, would take his rightful place as the next prince of Alaria.

  Remembering suddenly why she had sneaked down into the bowels of the castle in the middle of the night, Lizbeth sighed. When tomorrow was done, would Adan still be alive to see his son born? She shook off the fears and strengthened her resolve. If she had anything to say about it, not only would he live to see the birth of his son, but he would also be there to place the barbarian crown on Zander’s head someday.

  Lizbeth ran a fingertip along the rough rim of her mortar, closed her eyes, and attempted to clear her mind. She had no doubt that one of the most valuable bits of advice Headmistress Seychelle had ever given her in class was “If you don’t believe you can accomplish what you set out to do, then you won’t. Even a mediocre enchantress can rise to greatness with the right attitude, but no enchantress ever got to the level of being a master without first believing in the magic of herself.”

  After flattening out the small soft, supple square of leather meant to hold the contents of the talisman, she got to work.

  Grinding the coriander seeds in the mortar, Lizbeth carefully read and reread the protection spell as she slowly added the motherwort powder, the dill leaf, the chunk of myrrh resin, and, finally, the four drops of essence of dragon. The concoction began to bubble.

  Carefully, she stirred the ingredients with her pestle and drizzled it upon the square of leather while reciting her chant.

  “Protect his body, protect his soul.

  Let not harm take a toll.

  Protect my love, protect Prince Adan

  From first morning light ’til the sun’s rays have faded.”

  With a loud poof, the liquid simply vaporized, and all that was left was an empty mortar and a bare piece of leather.

  Lizbeth slumped to the floor in a heap and sobbed.

  “What are you doing?”

  The familiar voice right behind her startled Lizbeth and immediately stifled her tears. It couldn’t, however, suppress her groan. Slowly, she plastered a smile on her face, rose, and turned to face her husband.

  “Adan, whatever are you doing? It’s the middle of the night. You should be resting. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d practice a few simple little spells. You know, just something to take my mind off…things. Go back to bed. I’ll be up shortly.”

  He crossed his arms, tilted his head, lifted his chin ever so perceptively, and glared at her.

  Lizbeth groaned again. How many occasions had she watched Adan do this same pose? Every single time she’d tried to get away with not explaining her actions to him, that’s how many times.

  He added tapping his foot impatiently to his already angry demeanor. “I was awakened by thunder, Lizard. However, the air smells much more of snow than it does of rain. I wasn’t sure if it really was an honest-to-goodness storm brewing or if perhaps my sister or even my unborn son were
up to late-night mischief. You can imagine my surprise when I found you missing from our bed and followed strange, chanting-like noises down here. I now realize it is my wife who is once again up to only God Draka knows what.”

  He grasped her shoulders, though it was not a grip to showcase his superior strength, but rather one of tenderness. “I don’t need magic, and I especially don’t need a silly talisman, Lizbeth. That is what you’re doing down here, isn’t it? Instead of getting the rest you and the babe so desperately need. I’m a big strong barbarian, and I can take care of myself, love. How many times must I tell you this before you’ll believe me?”

  Tears filled her eyes even though she fought them back. Gritting her teeth, Lizbeth dared them to fall. “Perhaps you don’t require my assistance or even something so basic and probably so completely silly as a protection talisman.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Perhaps I’m the one who needs you to have one. Is it so very wrong of me to desire you to need me, to need something, anything, from me?”

  Surprise gleamed in his eyes. Adan’s hands slipped from her shoulders. He held both hands, palm up and out toward his wife. “Is that what you really think of me, that I don’t need you?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I need you, Lizbeth, more than you could ever know. How can you doubt that? What will it take to prove to you I not only need you but want you as my wife?”

  “Believe in me,” she cried.

  He ran his fingers through his hair once more then looked her straight in the eye. “I do believe in you. What will it take to convince you that I do? Will acting as your servant this night and wearing your talisman on the morrow convince you? If it will, then tell me what it is I can do to help you so we can both seek our bed. I may not believe I have need of magic, Lizbeth, but I do know I have need of you.”

  Those were the last words she’d expected to hear from her barbarian husband, and Lizbeth had no idea how to respond. She stood paralyzed, staring openmouthed, unable to fully comprehend what had just transpired.

  The slight uplifting of the edges of his lips snapped her out of her trance.

  “You would really help me?”

  He raised his eyebrow and nodded.

  Her voice broke ever so slightly. “You wouldn’t jest with me about something so important, would you?”

  He slowly shook his head, sighed, and crossed his heart.

  The tears she’d been holding back tumbled forth, and Lizbeth didn’t realize Adan had moved until his strong arms enveloped her.

  Her skin began to tingle from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes as he whispered against her hair. “Morning will be here soon, Lizard. Perhaps we should cease the weeping and get to work.”

  She almost laughed. Leave it to Adan to get right to the point. She pulled away, just enough so she could still feel the heat his body generated yet clear her mind and look him in the eye. “You’re right, husband, let’s get started. Oh, and how many times have I asked you to not call me Lizard?”

  ****

  “Are you sure you’ve been adding everything you’re supposed to and reciting the spell correctly? We’ve been at this a long time, Lizbeth. Perhaps you should give me a chance to do something other than just hand you…stuff.”

  Lizbeth glared at her helper, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Like, I could be the one to hold the book and read the spell to you for a change. Maybe I’ll see something you’ve been missing. Want to try it that way?”

  She wanted to hit him. Not just a small companionable thump on the arm, but an all-out I-am-not-the-idiot-you-obviously-think-me-to-be punch right in the nose.

  Lizbeth sighed. How could she have thought for a moment help from Adan would be anything but the disaster it had been for the last turn of the hourglass? After all, the man was a barbarian. She swallowed back a sudden giggle, realizing Adan wasn’t the only barbarian in the room.

  Perhaps he had a point.

  Lovingly caressing the leather of Goelz’s Study of Enchantments one last time, she silently handed it over to her husband and pointed out the spell.

  He smiled at her and her heart lifted as his voice rang out loud and clear. “Continuously grind five medium-sized coriander seeds as you slowly add a pinch of motherwort powder. Next, crumble in one dried leaf of dill, and a crushed chunk of myrrh resin.”

  He didn’t even have time to say slowly add four drops of essence of dragon before the concoction, once again, went up in a puff of smoke.

  Lizbeth groaned as she gazed at Adan in defeat. “It’s no use. You were right all along. There’s nothing magical about me. I’m sorry, I’ve failed you.”

  Adan looked as if she’d slapped him. “No, don’t say that. I didn’t mean it, Lizbeth. I swear I didn’t. You are the essence of magic. I don’t know what had gotten into me when I said those hurtful words to you. I think I was just jealous and afraid you wouldn’t need me anymore if you had magic to rely on. I was wrong, so very wrong. Try again, please! Don’t ever give up because of me.”

  Lizbeth had an overwhelming urge to rush into Adan’s arms. Her eyes roamed the length of him, taking in not only the sincerity in his eyes and the fullness of his lips, but also how the fine leather of his tunic molded itself perfectly to his broad-chested frame. For a moment, her breathing quickened as heat rushed up her neck and down into the pit of her belly.

  Then, an entirely new thought occurred to her. “Strip, Barbarian, hurry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Adan coughed. “Now? Here? Really? Umm…okay. It’s kind of dusty in this basement, and there’s really nowhere to lie but on the cold stone floor, but you know me, Lizbeth. I’m ready whenever, wherever you wish. I’m just surprised you’d want to stop what we’re doing and have sex right now is all.”

  She did punch him then, but playfully.

  “Not that, silly. I have another idea, and I need your leather garments to test it.”

  “Another idea?”

  She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Yes!”

  Adan lifted his tunic over his head and tossed it to his wife. He then made a production of slowly pushing his breeks over his hips and down his legs, before kicking them off and toward her. “Umm…while I’m already in a state of undress, you wouldn’t, by chance, want to take advantage of me, would you?”

  Lizbeth smiled as his cock proudly rose to attention and bobbed under her scrutiny. “If this works, I’ll gleefully ride you the rest of the night, Barbarian. Right now, though, I need to concentrate on my spell, so make that thing behave for a while longer.”

  His eyes were upon her as she turned first the tunic then the breeks inside out. Finding just the right section of leather she was looking for, she held out a hand. “Knife.”

  Adan chuckled. “And just where do you think I would be hiding a knife right now, Lizard? I’m naked remember.”

  She had the grace to pinken. “Oh, I forgot.”

  Reaching into her tunic pocket, she pulled out the small knife she used for eating. “Guess this will have to do.” With more hacking and sawing than cutting, Lizbeth managed to extract a small square of leather from the hem of Adan’s tunic where it wouldn’t be quite so noticeable. She laid it on the table and glanced at her husband.

  “This talisman of protection is for you, so I’m hoping by using a piece of leather that is personally yours to contain it, the spell will work this time.”

  Adan nodded and began reading the requirements of the enchantment. “Grind the coriander seeds.”

  Into the mortar Lizbeth dropped the five coriander seeds and ground them with her pestle until they were the consistency of dust.

  “Add the pinch of motherwort powder.”

  She did so and ground the ingredients together.

  “Now, it’s time for the crumbled leaf of dill and the crushed myrrh resin.”

  Lizbeth held her breath as she added them both to the mixture. Her fingers started to tingle and the substance within the mortar began to shimmer
. She looked at her prince and smiled.

  Adan locked gazes with her. “Slowly add four drops of essence of dragon.”

  She drew the dragon’s essence up, but the dropper shook so violently in her hand, Lizbeth was afraid she’d either miss the mortar completely or accidentally add too much. The sudden steadying touch of Adan’s hand was a welcome relief.

  They counted the drops together as they fell. “One, two, three, four.”

  The mixture started to bubble, and Lizbeth began the process of slowly drizzling it upon the square of Adan’s leather. While praying silently to herself, she recited the chant out loud.

  “Protect his body, protect his soul.

  Let not harm take a toll.

  Protect my love, protect Prince Adan

  From first morning light ’til the sun’s rays have faded.”

  She held her breath and waited.

  The square of leather shot from the table. A streak of blinding, white light emanated from it. Suddenly, the leather piece folded itself into a packet, trapping the light within. Just as quickly as it rose, it landed back down, coming to rest in the same spot it first had begun.

  Lizbeth gingerly scooped it and held it toward Adan as carefully as if it were made of the finest crystals.

  He grinned. “It worked then? I knew you could do it. Didn’t I tell you, you are the very essence of magic?”

  Lizbeth shook her head but couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “I’m not sure why it finally worked this time. Was it simply using something personal of yours, or was it a combination of that and you believing in me? I don’t know and I don’t care. It worked.”

  Picking up his breeks, Adan ripped the hem off a leg. Taking the shimmering piece of leather Lizbeth offered, he attached the strip to the talisman and looped it over his neck. It settled snuggly between his pecs and pulsed with energy.

 

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