Barbarian Dragonslayer (Princesses of the Ironbound Book 5)

by Aaron Crash

  “I am so not ready to be a mother, Ymir.” The mermaid straddled him, and he felt himself harden. Her oheesy was already slick from their lovemaking. He enjoyed the feeling of her rubbing her sex against his. “I’m just talking shit and waiting for you to get hard.”

  Ymir knew that wasn’t the case at all. “I’m already hard, Ribrib. You can dominate my other wives, but you can’t dominate me.”

  “And I wouldn’t want to.” Ribby smiled. “One more thing before we chitub again. You said Damnation Sue didn’t know how to get in touch with Salt Love and Sambal. I do. There’s an island ten miles south of here, a smuggler’s den called the Slag’s Reef. It’s a place of whores and thieves, and it has the blackest of markets. I think I can get Salt Love and Sambal there, and we can talk about getting you xoca beans. I’ll guide. We’ll bring the fairy. And we’ll fuck her together. I’ll bend that tricksy little bitch to my lusty will.”

  The idea of sharing the fairy with the mermaid was very tempting, especially since Ymir wasn’t allowed to fuck the fairy’s oheesy since she was so fertile. Which is probably why the mermaid was talking about children in the first place.

  Did Ziziva want children? He was pretty sure she would be the worst mother ever to raise a child. The baby would be doomed.

  “Neither of us should go anywhere near that fairy.” Ymir tried to throw Ribby under him, but suddenly he was caught in her tentacles.

  “With all eight rings, she shouldn’t be a problem.” The mermaid had him around his ankles and wrists. “Or with six. You don’t need to be afraid of Ziziva. In the end, I don’t think she’s that tricksy at all. I told you she came to visit, and there’s a side of her that would surprise you. It sure fucking surprised me.”

  Ymir wrestled his arm away from a tentacle, then a leg, and then he cast a bit of Moons magic. “Caelum caelarum.” It was something he’d learned in Professor Lola’s class.

  Ymir floated up and spun the mermaid around, catching more tendrils before they could grab him. Ribby lay under him, her wonderful tits in view. She opened her tentacles, and he could see her wet, swollen slit. He slid his hard cock into her slick roony, the Aquaterreb word for her sex.

  She gasped. “You have six of the rings, right? How is it going with the seventh?”

  Ymir thought it was a damn strange time for such a discussion, but he answered the question. “Della and I found the book that Gulnash used, but for the life of me, I don’t understand what the Gruul bastard found in the pages. I spent the day reading it, and it’s about the rains on the slopes of the Judgement Peaks, and how they affect crops on the Judgement Plains south of Four Roads. There are bits of clichéd wisdom as well. Save today lest you be hungry tomorrow. And there are three seeds in the binding.”

  “And how was kissing Della a second time?” the mermaid asked with a giggle. “Was it hot? Did it make your cock hard?”

  “It did at that,” Ymir growled. “Lillee had to rub her wet pussy. Tori had her Inconvenience, which actually turned out to be very convenient. Such is the wordplay in this damn almanac we found.”

  “Did you say seeds?” Ribby asked.

  “In the binding. Yes.”

  The mermaid lifted her hips and forced his cock deeper into her. He was awash in soft, rubbery tentacles—she was keeping her suction cups relaxed so as not to grip him. Ribby used her coils to encourage him to start fucking her. “I want your seed. I love you in me, Ymir. I love you fucking me.”

  All talk of rings, fairies, even dragons, was lost in his passion.

  Ribby might prefer group sex, but she’d come far with what she referred to as chitub. For the merfolk, having sex with one person or masturbating amounted to the same thing.

  Ymir wondered whether he, Ribby, and Ziziva might have a moment together at some point. He’d sworn that the fairy would never again warm his bed, not with how dangerous and secretive she was; however, it seemed that Ziziva had won the sea princess’s heart.

  If the fairy could do that, perhaps Ymir might give her some thought.

  However, any journey Ziziva took to earn his trust would certainly be a long one.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ZIZIVA HONEYGOOD FLEW the wet winds across Angel Bay and over StormCry’s harbor. There were the rougher streets she avoided, the marketplace. A Chapel of the Tree dominated the center of town, and there was the central keep where the mayor lived. North, down a large, quiet street, lay the Undergem Guild’s tower, and that was her destination.

  Ziziva knew Ymir was with Charibda Delphino, and while the fairy girl didn’t know what they were doing exactly, she could guess. Yes, there would be sex, though it would only be chitub for the mermaid.

  More importantly, the fairy girl assumed the pair would be talking about her.

  Why had Ribby agreed to help Ziziva? The fairy couldn’t be sure, but she was very grateful. May the Divine Verum Spark bless that sea princess!

  Ziziva winning her way into Ymir’s harem wouldn’t be easy, but harder still would be facing the fairy queen.

  As she flew over the coastal town, Ziziva smelled the humans, their farm animals, their dirt, and it made her miss the sweet scents of her river home. The cities of the Fayee were clean and organized, and there wasn’t the chaos of all that human desire. All served the fairy queen or her magistrates, of which there were many.

  Ziziva was in her Winkle Self, small and undetectable, and she kept her Scintilla Dust dim. She’d sent a sand letter to Queen Deedee, and so the mistress of the Undergem Guild had lit a blue lantern to point the way to the perch outside of the queen’s suite at the very top of the guild building.

  Ziziva landed and embraced her Verum Self. Her dark cloak transformed with her, and she swept the hood back. She wanted to make sure Jacinta Sugartime knew her and didn’t try to stab her.

  Jacinta was there in her armor, with her sword sheathed at her side. She also had a dirk, a broad-bladed knife that had drunk the blood from many a throat. Jacinta was a brutal warrior, and the closest person to Deedee.

  Growing up in the Long River District, Ziziva had been jealous—as a child, she’d wanted the attention of the fairy queen always. It was odd that Ziziva got so much of Deedee’s attention, yet she had always wanted more.

  Ziziva nodded at Jacinta, who stood in the open entryway of the suite itself. They were using Sunfire for heat and Moons magic for the perfume. Candles burned, colorful fabric hung from the walls, and at the center of the room was Dillyday Everjewel in her Verum Self, at a desk, going through papers and piling up shecks.

  Ziziva so wished she could use the Winkle Way, to talk nonsense, to hide everything, but she couldn’t. This was her one last chance to play by the rules. Even so, if either Jacinta or Deedee guessed Ziziva’s true intent, the fairy girl wouldn’t be leaving alive.

  Ziziva approached, with Jacinta falling in behind her in a spray of Scintilla Dust. It was a tad muskier than the fragrance of other Fayee, and that was on purpose. Jacinta wanted you to smell her strength.

  “I know why you’ve come, Ziziva.” The blue-haired fairy, with the bright blue eyes and blue wings, sipped wine from her gold cup. Those blue eyes narrowed, showing her wrinkles even more. The fairy queen was ancient, several thousand years old. And the Ohlyrran thought they were long-lived.

  The fact that Deedee could guess the reason for Ziziva’s visit had her sweating. She couldn’t sweat. She couldn’t giggle or use the Winkle Tongue. She had to stick to the Verum Way and state her case, coldly and logically. “Queen Everjewel, I am here for a reason, but I don’t think you know what that is.”

  Anger flashed in the queen’s blue eyes. “I don’t know. Silly, silly, girly gone. I was alive when you were but a song. Your business is scary, your money is waning. Trouble is coming, death in the raining.” She giggled and drank more of her wine.

  Was she drunk? Why else would the queen converse in the Winkle Tongue? Ziziva was caught off guard. “Might I sit, your majesty? For I want to talk and to be seen. I want
your ear, and may it be kind. This talk won’t take long, if you don’t mind.” She kept her giggles and silliness aside. She used the rhyme to see what the queen would do next.

  The queen laughed a little. “Is it about your business, little Ziziva? My little love of the Long River, my own little love, and the love of the Sondus River Magistrate, and then the Sorrow Coast Magistrate as well. Everyone always loved little Ziziva, for she is always so obedient to the Divine Verum Spark, whom we all serve.”

  “The Divine Verum Spark,” Jacinta repeated behind her. “Whom we all serve.”

  Ziziva echoed the words, as was expected. “The Divine Verum Spark, whom we all serve. And you, your highness, knows more about the Spark than anyone.”

  “Perhaps,” the queen said dryly, switching to the Verum Tongue. “Now, tell me why you are here.”

  Ziziva felt her heart hammering in her chest. How could she talk with her heart beating so loudly? She smiled and then jumped from the seat. She had to move...part of her wanted to turn into her Winkle Self and flutter around, but she stayed Verum and paced. “The deal, Deedee, the deal was that you would finance my shop, you would help me with the automaton, and you would negotiate deals with the Aquaterreb for the xoca bean. In return, I would keep an eye on Ymir, get close to him, seduce him, and work our magic on him. I did that, and I told you all I could about the barbarian with magic. He’s working on something forbidden, but I don’t know what it is. Ymir and Della are close now, closer than ever. But more I can’t say. If I could reveal some of our secrets to him, if I could love him, and if he could love me, I would be so much the better spy.”

  Deedee sat without moving, with no expression on her fine face. A little Scintilla Dust floated around her, blinking with lights and smelling sweet, but other than that, not even her wings moved as she sat listening.

  Ziziva finally sat, working hands up and down her legs—she was so nervous, she had to keep moving even in her seat. “I wouldn’t tell him everything, and already he knows about our size and shape and our heightened fertility. He knows so much because our memory magic doesn’t work on him. If I could truly be honest with him, I could win his heart.”

  “I’m not sure it’s his heart you want,” the fairy queen said softly. She stood up, walked around, and offered Ziziva a hand.

  Ziziva took it, not knowing what else to do. Deedee walked her out of her suite and onto the perch. Below, the lights of the marketplace were blurred by an incoming mist. The ocean beyond the lights of the harbor was a plain of darkness, marred here and there with the white lines of waves.

  Deedee sniffed. “Do you smell the stink of them? This world smells of shit and pain. But the Fayee have risen above that, by being careful, by holding true to our ways, both Winkle and Verum. And thus, we are more successful than any other race. Richer than even the dwarves. You know this. I raised you to know this.”

  “You have.” Ziziva had always wondered why the fairy queen took such interest in her. Most likely, Deedee was her mother, but the Fayee never said as much. Babies were raised by the entire Fayee community, overseen by the magistrate of whatever district they found themselves in.

  Not Ziziva. While there had been a magistrate of the Long River District, it was Queen Deedee herself who raised Ziziva. And that was highly irregular since the Long River Magistrate ruled one of the most powerful districts on the entire continent. The Poisoned Fruit people had their own maps and governments, but the Fayee ignored them and embraced their own.

  Deedee drew Ziziva in close and embraced her. “I know what you want, Ziziva. I’ve always known. A baby. A child. Soon, we will let you have this, but it will take some time. And your fertility is not under my jurisdiction. You would need to speak to the magistrate of the Sorrow Coast District.”

  And that was Professor Lolazny Lyla, who kept her baby rates low for whatever reason.

  Ziziva pushed the fairy queen back until they were at arm’s length. “Magistrate Lola is against me mating with Ymir. I would need to leave this district to find someone more accommodating. I don’t want to do that. I want to stay near this school because we both know history will be made here. Is being made. There is a turn happening to this world, and here is the fulcrum point. I want to be here to serve the Fayee when the new age dawns. And that will happen here. You’ve helped me before, my queen, and I am hoping you will help me now.”

  Deedee took a step forward for another embrace, but Ziziva eased herself back.

  It was instinctual. It was the wrong move.

  The warmth in the fairy queen’s face vanished.

  Queen Deedee’s eyes turned icy. “This old school is important. Why do you think I’ve been working out of this sewer of a town? Yes, here is where the new age begins. And it will be profitable for us. We will know a success undreamed of. Now, more than ever, each of us must be obedient to the Spark.”

  Ziziva knew what that meant—obedience to the Spark meant obedience to your magistrate, who was the divine representation of the Spark. Ziziva knew Professor Lola, and she didn’t have any special knowledge—she was as lost as anyone else.

  Right then, Ziziva knew what she had to do. It would mean exile and death, but she was never going to get what she wanted if she waited for the fairy queen to hand it to her. Their people had been successful, but the Fayee had also been caged. In secrecy. In lies. In the hierarchy of their culture.

  Ziziva couldn’t believe it, but she knew she was going to break free by engaging in the ultimate sin. The fairy girl was very careful to keep the truth off her face. Instead, she fluttered her wings, making sure her Scintilla Dust was more sparkly and happier than ever. “You are right, my queen. It’s for the Divine Verum Spark, whom we all serve.”

  “Whom we all serve,” echoed Deedee and Jacinta.

  Ziziva then moved forward to let the fairy queen hold her, and they discussed Deedee’s plans for Della Pennez. She’d already seduced the Princept, which had been surprisingly easy. She would move forward with her plans despite the assassination in Four Roads.

  In the end, who ruled the Holy Theranus Empire didn’t matter because the real power was in the guilds. And who ruled the guilds? It was the Undergem Guild—where Dillyday Everjewel held ultimate power as the guild’s mistress.

  There was an apocalypse coming, certainly, but it was an Armageddon that would be managed by Queen Deedee.

  Before Ziziva left, in good standing with the queen and her bodyguard, Deedee held her hand. “You know, there are xoca beans on Slag’s Reef. They might be pricey, but they will allow your business to continue. You don’t need to thank me for this information. It’s the least I can do. I want you to succeed with the barbarian, Ziziva, just not in the way you want.”

  Ziziva giggled. “What I want is silly when compared to what lies ahead for our people. In this time of demon conquerors to the south, and dragons to the west, we will endure. I will endure.” She made sure to end speaking in the Verum Tongue. And she made sure to end it with a personal pronoun.

  Ziziva would endure. And so would her child.

  But how could she convince the barbarian to give her one? And it wasn’t just that. Ymir would have to protect her from the fury of her people.

  Why would he? Ymir and his wives hated her.

  Ziziva Honeygood was determined to change that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE FOLLOWING WEEK, Ymir was in his religion class, in the Moons Tower, with Linnylynn Albatross. The professor was lecturing on the religious nature of the Fayee when Gharam Ssornap threw open the door. The big orc stomped into the room, remembered it wasn’t his classroom, and turned sheepish. “Excuse me, Professor Albatross, but could I take Ymir from you? He’s needed. There’s a bit of an emergency on the Flow Field.”

  “Yes, of course,” the Scatter Island professor agreed.

  It was getting dark—not that you’d know it with how dark and stormy the day had been. Lightning had flashed in the windows, followed by a boom of thunder. Ymir had to adm
it being inside the classroom during a storm was rather calming. Growing up on the tundra, they’d simply braved the wind and rain. Thunderstorms were just the Axman and Shieldmaiden having an argument. The Axman would flash the lightning of his ax, and the Shieldmaiden would answer with thunder. Some said their fights scared the Wolf so much, he pissed the rain. Ymir thought the Wolf didn’t give two elk shits about the disputes. He pissed himself laughing at them.

  Ymir gathered his things.

  Darisbeau said something about Gatha and chuckled.

  He stopped laughing when Ymir glared at him. Silencing that whelp would never get old.

  Then he followed Gharam down the steps. The big orc explained what was going on. “Gatha decided to nearly kill all of my students today, and yet she’s not done. She wants another fight with you, and you alone. I’d blame the ippa, but I’m fairly certain she’s sober.”

  Ymir was too angry to talk. This had gone on long enough. While he wasn’t sure what to do about Lillee and Jennybelle, he knew what Gatha needed.

  They hurried past the feasting hall and the Librarium, across the Flow Courtyard, and past the Flow Tower. The Flow Field, where the Kurzig Durgha had been held, was on the northwest corner of the campus. Brodor Bootblack had removed some of the seats and extended the grass, but they’d kept certain aspects of the grand arena. The smell of the ocean was strong. The tide was out, so an expanse of sand lay at the bottom of the cliffs.

  There, on the Flow Field, Gatha stood in the middle of the grass. She was wreathed in fire, with a sword of flames in one hand and a flaming buckler in the other. Underneath some shelters on the field, there were any number of scholars, bruised and bloodied, a few being taken care of by Old Ironbound’s doctor, Nuveehl Naymer. She was a silver-haired woman with a silver cuff who was still relatively young, or so the rumors said. With the Ohlyrra, it was hard to tell.