Barbarian Assassin (Princesses of the Ironbound Book 2)

by Aaron Crash

  Lillee and Jenny moved to kiss her breasts, to lick her face and lips, to nibble on her ears.

  Ymir stretched out over the little woman, and she was kissing his chest, and he was ramming her hard now. The sacks of rice were perfect—cushioned for her and firm for him. Every time his pelvic bone struck the top of her swampy mound, she squeaked, sweating, then howled.

  Ymir joined her in howling. He lost himself to the pleasure, the scent of the women, and the cries of the Morbuskor maiden who was a maiden no more.

  “He’s coming inside me! A man...a man is coming inside me!” Tori shrieked.

  However loud, Ymir hardly heard her. The pleasure was so intense, and this little storeroom, on this island, had become a paradise.

  He had to pull out of Tori’s sex to kiss her, but kiss her he did.

  She sighed and made a few cute satisfied noises. “Oh, I’m all right now, Mr. Man. And ladies, thank you. That was the most intense Inconvenience I’ve ever had. We can go now.”

  “No, we can’t!” Lillee protested. She got on her hands and knees, her ass facing Tori and Jenny. She wormed her way under Ymir’s body to suck on him.

  Jenny nodded, giving Tori’s head a gentle kiss. “Toriah, girl, you threw a match in dry hay. His sporram might’ve put out your flame, but Lillee and I still have it awful. Can you give us a few minutes with Ymir?”

  Tori giggled. “Yes, but I’m afraid my Inconvenience is gone. I’ll go wait outside. We’re going to have to pay that old woman to clean her blankets, and she’ll probably want new food. I can’t face her, not with how loud we were, but I’ll go check on the boat.”

  Ymir was about to remind the dwab she hated boats, but she was already scooping up her clothes and heading outside.

  Jenny took her spot, legs open.

  “Two more snatches to satisfy,” he said with a grin. “I’m up for the task.”

  Thanks to Lillee’s expert mouth he was hard. He got between the Josentown princess’s legs and slid into her tight tunnel. He kissed her, smelling Tori’s essence all over her face. She was musky and sweet and good. Next time the lust grabbed the little woman, he’d have to have a list of all the things he wanted to do to her. In the excitement, he might forget.

  An hour later, they’d put the storeroom back together. When they went to talk with Damnation Sue, she smiled toothlessly at them and told them to enjoy their youth while they had it. Jennybelle promised to bring her fresh blankets and some new rice.

  Sue said she’d take care of it all. She was glad someone was getting a piece of ass on the damn chunk of rock out there. Oddly enough, they seemed to have made a friend.

  It was nearly midnight as they rowed back to the hidden dock at the bottom of the Sea Stair.

  Tori was shy about what had happened, but Lillee kept hugging her, telling her they were happy to help with her Inconvenience. Ymir hoped it would become a regular task. Aiding the redhead with that particular problem wasn’t work at all.

  Ymir asked again what they’d seen while he’d been tested by the Akkir Akkor. The three women said they hadn’t seen much. One minute he was over the silver bowl. The next minute he was choking something like a shadow, and then it was gone.

  The fisherman had told Jenny to simply lash the boat to the dock. He’d take care of it in the morning.

  The four of them started up the stairs. Ymir, Jenny, and Lillee would have one more night in Jenny’s apartment before they were shuttled off to the Imperial Palace and into whatever barren cell Della had arranged for them.

  Ymir wore the Black Ice Ring. He didn’t expect to run into anyone who would care. As for the Veil Tear Ring, it was in a pocket of his satchel, oddly cold and damp. His right hand rested on the pocket, and he kept thinking his fingers were wet from the thing. Creating the Black Ice Ring hadn’t given him a bad feeling. This thing, though, did. He would use it, but he never saw himself wearing it for long.

  He’d get the women settled in, and then he’d test the ring, take it near the Princept’s Chambers and walk around the college, to see if it actually did something.

  They didn’t make it to the top of the stairs.

  They’d passed the Paradise Tree, closed and locked, when the snake slithered out of the alleyway. The thing was made of darkness with the same shining teeth and leaden eyes as the bear-backed tentacled creature that Jenny had stabbed. This demonic serpent stank of rot and offal, a latrine on a battlefield after the crows had filled their beaks.

  The attack was immediate and devasting. Dozens of feet long, as wide as Ymir’s leg, it swept its coils around Jenny, crushing her before she could scream.

  Ymir didn’t pause. He leapt and grabbed the Sapphire Fang from its sheath on her belt. He looped his left arm around the neck of the demon snake, gagging at its stink, feeling revulsion at the touch of its pulpy, mottled flesh. It had a rubbery give to it, but underneath were jagged bones.

  The snake let go of Jenny. She fell, silent, unconscious, crushed.

  Tori staggered backward, cursing. Lillee wailed.

  The serpent coiled itself around Ymir, trying to crush him, too. It never had the chance. The clansman pulled the demon snake’s head back. He took the dagger and drove it up through the bottom of the snake’s head and out the top of its skull. Black, foul-smelling filth spewed from the wound, covering Ymir. The demon opened its maw of needle-teeth and emitted a shriek that must’ve echoed across the Sea Stair Market and the apartments around them. Then the serpent went lifeless, sinking down, every wretched inch of it dead. The skin spat and steamed, turning to liquid and dribbling down the drains, leaving only white bone behind. That bone then sizzled and began to liquify.

  Tori and Lillee pulled Jenny away from the mess and laid her on the stones.

  Ymir, breathing hard, covered in the blood of the demon, gazed down. The Flow visions had come true.

  The awful truth dawned on him. It was after midnight. Officially, it was the Third Exam week. The assassins hadn’t been after Ymir after all. Auntie Jia had sent someone who could summon demons, and that creature had caught Jennybelle unawares.

  Then they were rushing Jenny up the Sea Stair, heading for the infirmary in the Imperial Palace. She was breathing, barely, but they only had minutes to repair the damage the demon had done to her.

  If she was dead, Ymir would finish his schooling, he’d go down to Josentown, and he’d murder every last one of Jennybelle’s relatives until the gutters ran bright with blood. He’d cut off this Jiabelle Josen’s head and sink it on a spike as a warning to all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THE DOCTOR GAVE LILLEE a disgusted look, similar to the one she’d given her months before after the incident with the former Moons professor.

  Old Ironbound’s doctor, Nuveehl Naymer, was a silver-haired elf woman who wore a silver cuff. She was still relatively young, or so the rumors said. With the Ohlyrra, it was hard to tell.

  Lillee couldn’t bear to see the broken body of her friend. The doctor said Jenny would survive, and that with enough magic, she would walk again. For now, Jenny was resting. Doctor Naymer had reached out to all the Studiae Duxi, to bring them in. The Princept was in her chambers, but Della had said she was going to cast a very powerful Flow spell and couldn’t be disturbed.

  Lillee thought it was about Ymir, and the assassin, but the Princept was too late. The killer had been after Jenny all along. Jenny should’ve been with Ymir in the shower for that first attack. The demon had come after her the first time on StormLight Island. Then, of course, there was the snake.

  They were all in the spacious infirmary, three beds in a row in front of rain-stained windows. Lillee, Ymir, and Tori stood back to watch Jenny’s life being saved by the faculty at Old Ironbound—Doctor Naymer, Professor Leel, Professor Bootblack, and even Gharam Ssornap cast the cura magic. Professor Slurp glared at Ymir and didn’t say a single word to him.

  The teachers as well as the doctor left to talk out in the hall.

  Ymir stood like he
was made of stone, against the wall, arms crossed. The Black Ice Ring was visible. As for the other ring? Lillee didn’t know. She knew he was hating himself for not putting the new magic item on immediately. Yet, from what Lillee understood, the Akkir Akkor might be watching.

  Lillee knelt at Jenny’s head. Tori sat in a wooden chair next to the unconscious princess.

  They heard the professors muttering out in the hall. The word “Princept” was whispered over and over. They were discussing if they should bother Della Pennez in her chambers. There had been a demon attack, on campus, and it seemed like the right thing to do. However, the Princept might even now be in the Illuminates Spire, deep in the Flow magic. Disturbing her could be dangerous.

  Tori had her hand on Jenny’s body. The dwab shook her head sorrowfully. “We were going to become good friends. She made me feel good about myself. Here she was, this big girl, and there I was, as big or bigger. Now, to think we’ll lose her.”

  Lillee couldn’t talk. She felt choked—like Ymir and his shadow. On the boat ride, he’d told them what he’d seen. And he’d mentioned the Akkir Akkor had known Lillee’s name, and Tori’s as well.

  Anger flooded the elf girl, then sorrow, because even if Jenny survived this, she would only get a few more decades. At some point in her life, Lillee would have to mourn her human lovers, and she didn’t feel up to the task.

  Her tears came too fast to stop. She rushed from the room, out into the hall, and when Professor Leel got in her way, Lillee shoved her aside.

  Lillee was running when she left the Imperial Palace, sped over the bridge, and into the Librarium, which was as gloomy as it was empty—the Sunfire lanterns were turned low.

  She finally stopped, standing on the emblem of the school, a diamond-shaped mosaic showing the symbols of the four Studiae Magica.

  The elf girl couldn’t let go of her rage or her despair; they fought like beasts inside her.

  She heard the footsteps. By now, she knew exactly who they belonged to. Boot leather slapped the polished stone floor. When Ymir grew close, his scent, musky and sweet, filled her sense. He’d become as familiar to her as her own skin.

  The clansman didn’t speak.

  He didn’t need to. He knew that she needed to talk, and he’d only prompt her if he lost patience. She whirled on him. “Yes, I know! I know if I talk about what is troubling me, I’ll feel better. But I hate it. I hate every bit of it.”

  “Hate what?” Ymir stood in his leather shirt and pants and Gharam’s boots. He’d gone back to Jenny’s suite to wash off the demon blood and to change his shirt.

  Lillee was so tired, so worried, so wrung out. These other people lived their lives with such ease, but not her. Her feelings felt like cold water drowning her. Her thoughts moved like quicksilver. And always the fear, the awful fear, haunting her.

  “I hate myself,” she said in a strangled voice. “I hate myself for being weak and fragile.”

  He nodded. It was clear he didn’t agree. He didn’t argue.

  She hissed her next words. “I hate death. It will take you, and Jenny, and even Tori, and I’ll have to watch. I’ll live on, and before long, your memory will fade, and I’ll find other lovers, and I’ll forget you. It hurts me to think it. It makes me want to shriek and tear at my hair. It makes me want suicide. See? I’m weak. I’m fragile.”

  The two stood, and it was quiet for a minute. Until the rain started outside, pattering loudly on the Flow courtyard.

  Ymir heard it as well. “I didn’t think it would rain again so soon. We got our clear sky for the ritual. Now? It will probably rain for another month without ceasing. You probably knew that. You probably know who the secret assassin at the school is. You’re all-knowing, after all.”

  It was a cruel thing to say. She flung out a hand to slap him.

  He caught it. “You don’t know what minutes you have left. My grandmother would always tell me—worries over the future are lies that have no end. You could’ve died a dozen times in the past months. We only have this second, this moment.” He reached into his satchel and drew out the Veil Tear Ring. The metal was dull like lead. The runes on it were the same color as the black ink they’d made. It looked wet, but as she’d learn, it would always look wet and feel clammy. “If you want to see past the veil, you can put that on, and you can witness my death, or Jenny’s, or even your own.”

  She didn’t want that. This was her chance, though. They lived in a world where Flow magic could show you the future. She could see if her worst fears would come true. She could see herself as a widow before her lovers were taken from her.

  Yet, she realized, she didn’t want that. Ymir was correct—she was lying to herself. She didn’t know what would happen. And she didn’t want to know. She would enjoy the day she had, not the day when her heart would break.

  Too much emotion choked Lillee so she couldn’t talk. She stepped into Ymir’s arms, and he held her, quietly, the two standing there, two pieces of a much larger puzzle.

  The elf girl thought of her friends and how disturbed they were. Jenny had told Lillee about her nightmares, about how much murdering Siteev Ckins had bothered her. Lillee was terrified of losing her closest friends. And then there was Tori, a heartbroken girl who smiled through her pain, though she thought she was ugly and alone. In fact, she wasn’t. She’d become a part of their growing family.

  “We’re trouble,” Lillee whispered. “Your princesses are such trouble. Me, Jenny, Tori—why do you even bother with us?”

  Ymir leaned back and took her face in his big, strong hands. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “Because I’d rather be troubled by you princesses than be at peace alone. I’d get tired of stroking my own uht. I prefer others to help me with that.”

  Lillee laughed despite the vulgarity. With her essess on, she had trouble appreciating a dirty joke.

  Ymir seemed so serious, yet there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re not all princesses. For all we know, Tori might only be a well-connected serving girl in the Ruby Stonehold. Brodor told me she’s related to someone famous among the Morbuskor.”

  “She’s with us now, isn’t she?” Lillee loved the idea of Tori joining them.

  “I believe so,” Ymir answered. He then stepped back from her. “I’m going to put the ring on now. I’m going to see who tried to kill Jenny. Then I’m going to kill them.”

  Lillee saw the passion in him. That night, he was going to use both his determination and his rage to murder. The elf girl realized that she was glad. She wanted Jenny safe. And she wanted justice. She didn’t feel weak and fragile right then. She felt part of a powerful family that was going to conquer the world. She could write the songs and tell the stories of their rise.

  She could tell the story of Ymir, son of Ymok, of the Black Wolf Clan. She felt how monumental the task would be, and how lucky she was to be right in the middle of what could only be a tale for the ages.

  He held the ring. It was smaller than the Black Ice Ring. It would only fit on his pinky finger. “It’s wet, it always feels wet and cold, even when I know it’s dry.”

  He frowned and then took the Sapphire Fang from his belt. He gave the dagger to Lillee. “I’m going to put the ring on, Lillee. Then I’ll take it off. If I can’t take it off, I want you to cast a Flow cantrip, freeze me in place, and then cut off my finger.”

  “Because it might be cursed,” she said quietly.

  He nodded. “I don’t think it is, but I don’t know for sure. I didn’t want to put it on alone. I wanted to wait a bit, actually, to do more research, but this can’t wait. It’s only the start of the Third Exam week. I’m not sure Jenny will make it to the end.”

  Lillee led him to a table. “If you can’t take the ring off, put your hand down on that flat surface, and I’ll cut off your finger.”

  He grinned. “You’re not feeling weak and fragile now, I don’t think.”

  “No, actually.” She smiled as well. Her heart was beating. She was afraid.
However, she felt the thrill of the moment and she respected Ymir’s iron will. She would rise to the occasion to match that will. “If I’m to be your lover, if we’re to conquer the world, I better get used to doing things like this.”

  Lillee didn’t feel like herself that moment. She wasn’t some frightened, shy artist. No, she felt like Jennybelle Josen, a bold woman, reckless even. She liked this side of herself. It was like when she took off her essess and let the lust take her. What a wonder it was, to have so many people inside of her.

  “Ready?” Ymir asked.

  “Ready,” she said.

  He slipped the Veil Tear Ring on his left pinky finger next to the other Akkiric Ring.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE HONORED PRINCEPT was awake at midnight, late Sunday night, the week of the Third Exam. The Examiners had cast their Form spells to create the exam rooms in the dungeons under the college towers. Della had been called to deal with a number of issues, and she’d addressed them all.

  Exhausted, she’d made herself kaif to get to her real work. She’d found a Flow devocho spell, one that helped her step into the stream of time and space and once again, try to see who was bringing violence and death to her school.

  Della sat in a power circle in the Illuminates Spire, above her private chambers. Around her were bookcases full of forbidden books and scrolls too dangerous to be held anywhere else. Magic items were scattered around on stone pedestals, some new, some ancient, all with the power to destroy the world. Her eyes went to a long staff, bound to the wall in iron bands. The Fractal Clock just might be the most dangerous item in this arsenal. If anything could change the world, it was that odd-looking stick with the clockwork at the top.

  Five Sunfire candles sputtered in the circle she’d chalked on the floor. She sat cross-legged in the middle, in her nightgown, with her hands resting on her knee. She reviewed the suspects. Who wanted either Ymir or Jennybelle dead?

  Of course, she immediately thought of the scholars from the Swamp Coast queendoms. Both Nellybelle Tucker and Darisbeau Cujan had motives to want the barbarian and the princess dead.