by Aaron Crash
“Ribby.” Salt Love sighed. “Ribby suggested you make the trip to Slag’s Reef. And there’s a certain fairy who might’ve guessed as well, since the fairies all stick together, despite the feuds they pretend to have. Like Hickey Silkmuddle is always complaining about the Undergem Guild, which is supposedly why she is out here, to avoid taxes. Of course, that is not the case.”
The smuggler threw a look at Ziziva, who shrugged. “I’m just Letty Lovebutton. I’m silly and don’t know a thing. But how did you know I sometimes have wings?” While she tried to hide it, there was fear in her eyes.
Salt Love shrugged. “Me and Sambal have dealt with merfolk and fairies enough to know a few things we shouldn’t. Besides, you always did have that pretty yellow hair. But you, you especially are your blue, blue eyes. Others wouldn’t catch it. But I’m not like most girls.”
“I’m dumb,” Sambal said. “But I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t fuck with the Fayee if you paid me triple. Nor would I cross a merfolk family. For the same reason. Smart people who want to talk shit about secrets die.”
Their answers made Ziziva look a bit relieved.
Ymir had little patience for this game. “I didn’t come here to talk about fairies. I need my beans for my business. And I’m curious about the supply chain in the future. Will this demon conqueror cause us any more trouble?”
Sambal and Salt Love exchanged glances.
The dark-skinned woman returned with a bounce of titties. She set their drinks down, and then stood there, hands open.
Ymir reached into his satchel and considered giving her one of the platinum shecks. However, he didn’t want to be remembered. So he withdrew a handful of silver and set it into her hand. “This will pay for the night’s drinks. And whatever else.”
The serving girl bent, giving him a view of her cleavage and even her nipples. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Mr. Cormac.” She then sauntered off, giving them a view of her onion-shaped ass.
Ziziva’s eyes brightened and never left the serving girl’s curves.
When it came to sex, fairies had very open minds.
Ymir drank his beer. It smelled like a dead animal on a beach. It tasted like a dark beer with a sweet aftertaste. In the end, it wasn’t bad.
“Your beans are across the way, in a warehouse marked with an H and an S and the number three.”
Ymir put it together. “Hickey Silkmuddle’s third warehouse.”
Ziziva gasped and nearly choked on her honey mead. “It can’t be. I just exchanged sand letters with several suppliers of a certain persuasion, that of the honeypot kind, and money was exchanged. Then they said because of the war, you know, our beans were gone. Only they weren’t. And she knew, my queen knew, that the xoca—”
Ymir cut her off. “You mean beans. There are certain words we should avoid. Our serving girl was very lovely, but she knew my name from listening. I would imagine there is a good deal of commerce done here in information. So we know where our beans are. Why they are there is the real question.”
“To send me a message. To warn me not to raise dust.” Ziziva took too big a swallow and some of her mead went spilling off her chin.
Both Sambal and Salt Love were staring.
Ymir couldn’t blame them. Ziziva Honeygood was sexy and beautiful. She seemed so carefree. But Ymir knew the truth. She had cares, and they haunted her.
Despite his better sense, he was trusting her more. He’d even kissed her. Things would have to end there until he knew more about her and her people. First, business. They seemed to be close to getting their xoca beans, though they just might have to steal from a fairy magistrate to get them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
YMIR LIFTED A FINGER and winked at their serving girl for another sweet kelp beer.
Ziziva giggled at the attention and wiped her spilled drink off her chin. She looked dejected. “I just talked with someone, someone with a lot of power, of the Undergem kind, who said yes, there are beans here, but we’d have to pay a saucy sheck for them. This person didn’t say that it was Hickey Silkmuddle herself who owned them. It won’t be a saucy sheck. It will be a thirsty thousand shecks. Our beans might as well still be on the bushes in some rainforest on Reytah.”
“We’ll get them,” Ymir said confidently. “Let’s talk about the demon conqueror.”
Salt Love gestured at him with her cup. “We can say what we want about King Shapta. Everyone is talking about him. For others, kaif might soon be an issue, just as your beans are. However, Sambal and I have connections with people in the Scatter Islands. A few people in the Scatter Islands saw this coming and started planting. We should have suppliers who won’t be affected by King Shapta or that trouble brewing in the Swamp Coast queendoms. It’s this rich Williminaville family. One of the daughters teaches at Old Ironbound.”
“Professor Linnylynn Albatross.” Ymir frowned. Of course, his contact in the White Rose Society had seen trouble with demons to the south and had her people plant different crops. Demons were an obsession of hers. Should he feel better about that? Or worse?
Salt Love winked and nodded at Ymir.
“What do you know of her and her family?” he asked.
Salt Love wrinkled her nose. “Rich family. Good family. Boring family. She added a little spice by becoming a professor, doing research in the Swamp Coast queendoms, on demons and such things, or that’s the rumor. In the end, the Albatrosses follow the rules because they’re rich enough to make most of the rules. And this new farming venture of theirs will only add to their wealth.”
The smuggler woman painted in broad strokes, but it was clear that she didn’t have much information.
Sambal looked pained. “Working with the Albatross family will get kaif to the Majestrial, but I feel sorry for the Wingkin. We’ve talked to people. This King Shapta doesn’t just kill the Wingkin. He changes them. He has this machine, and it rips away their feathers and changes their wings to black leather. Fucks them up. Only spikes and ugliness are left. And with a winged army, they can catch the winds and fly to Thera. They haven’t yet, but they could.”
Salt Love nodded. Her eyes cast about to look for spies and to take in a big orc woman with huge tits that was quaffing beer. She also had a great big belly, but Salt Love’s eyes went lower. “Most think the demon conqueror is waiting for something. He could’ve taken Tubaqua already, but he hasn’t. It could be he only wants Reytah.”
Sambal spoke again. “The fucking Wingkin could’ve asked for help, but they won’t. They’d rather die. They’re too fucking proud. Idiots still think they rid the world of dragons.”
“Could this demon conqueror be a dragon?” Ymir asked.
Ziziva had finished her second drink and was on her third one. “I’m so tired of this fucking dragon business. I’m so fucking tired of it, and I haven’t even seen it. And there’s this green-skinned woman who will probably kill me silly since she hates me so, oh, yes, she hates me so, but I can’t go, you know, but I’ve been feeling so low.”
Salt Love grinned. “And my suspicions are confirmed.”
“You didn’t suspect, you knew,” Ziziva shot back. “My eyes are me, and your eyes are you.”
“Enough,” Ymir growled. “There’s been Flow magic that has shown me a dragon in my future. I want to know if it’s this demon conqueror.”
Salt Love shrugged. “Anything is possible. It would make sense for a dragon to be murdering Wingkin. They fought for eons, if the stories are true. And the Wingkin wiped them out. Perhaps some dark thing has crawled out of a crack somewhere and is looking for vengeance.”
Ymir finished his sweet kelp beer. “I’ve killed things from dark cracks before. And that was before I had magic. I’m going to get our beans from this place. They are rightfully ours. You know nothing about this. We were never here. If you get a new supplier that is not connected to the trouble on Reytah, tell our mutual friend with the cat at the lighthouse, and she will tell my friend, and my friend will te
ll me.”
He considered ordering another drink, then decided against it. He needed to oar home, and Ziziva was getting drunk enough for both of them.
Ziziva seemed to sense his concern. “I’m fine. This is what we should do, Cormac my heart. You should get the sacks of beans. Then we magic them down to the boat, which will be there, with our friend, who will want to hear all about our adventures. I’ll be there, and you’ll see my light.”
Ymir rose from the table. “Be there when I need you. I’m just starting to trust you.”
Ziziva turned serious. “And for that I am glad.”
Salt Love smiled at Ymir. “We don’t know you, we were never here, you never talked to us at all. But I’m glad you did, Cormac.”
Sambal nodded. “And have fun with Letty’s love button, Cormac. It was good you both were here. And getting along. I’m liking you two together.”
“In that, we agree, Sam,” the smuggler woman added.
Ymir frowned. “I’ll leave first. Letty, you stay with Salty and Sambal a bit longer, and then you’ll go get the boat, and get her to the western wall. I’ll look for your light.”
Ziziva agreed.
Ymir nodded at his smuggler friends and took his leave.
He wanted this business over. Ziziva was playing a dangerous game, and Ymir was being punished for it. In the end, their fates, or at least their business, were bound together. Ziziva had paid for the beans, and the fairies had stolen them and put them in a warehouse.
From what Ziziva said, it was Queen Deedee who told her the xoca could be found on Slag’s Reef, and that the fairy girl would have to rebuy things she’d already bought. And at a higher price. Just more fairy fuckery.
Ymir was angry about the Fayee and about this King Shapta. He wasn’t about to let his business get hurt by something happening oceans away. For now, he’d assume the demon conqueror would stay on his continent, and Ymir would stay on his. If that changed, Ymir would feed this demon conqueror his ax.
And if there were dragons to kill, Ymir would kill them.
First, though, a bit of thievery.
Ymir walked through the whores and men in the Horny Pig to get to the street, which was busier than ever.
Then it was simple. He walked to the very end of the street and found a shadow. The timing was perfect. Ziziva’s powerful Form magic, the same magic that had changed his face, lapsed, and he was Ymir once again.
That wouldn’t be a problem. No one would see him. No one could scry him.
While in the shadows, he cast his Obanathy cantrips to hide himself. From the darkness, he saw there was a total of six mermen guarding the warehouses, obviously on Hickey Silkmuddle’s payroll. The Fayee and the Aquaterreb had close connections—Ymir knew about that firsthand.
Two of the guards walked through the alleys. Two more guarded the entrance. And down the way were the last two, at the very end of the avenue. There were twelve warehouses altogether, six on each side, and they were marked with numbers. The third building was on the sea side of the street. Not on the Titty Tower side. That was good.
Ymir walked to the edge of the street to look down on the crashing waves hitting rock and reef. The bone harbor was on the southern side, and there were more docks on the eastern part of Slag’s Reef. The north and the west, however, were quiet and dark. Tall ramparts protected the ocean city from the elements.
Ymir slid on the Crystal Null Ring, one of the rings he didn’t usually wear since it was so distinctive. He reached out with his dusza and felt the souls of the first two front sentries. It was easy to pull the power out of the pair. At the same time, he reached out with the Winter Flame Ring, felt the moisture around them, and was able to glue their feet to the stone. He also created an almost invisible sheet of ice between them and the building.
Both of the mermen were unconscious, but they still stood, so no one would think anything was wrong.
Ymir sped across the street and then ducked down the alley between the second building and the third. The door was locked and chained closed. He could deal with that in a minute.
The guards were walking back down, wearing their battle skirts, their top armored in mail shirts. Both had their tridents. They were talking quietly.
Ymir moved until he could see into the central lane. For this, Ymir again used the combination of the Winter Flame and the Crystal Null. When the pair came into sight, Ymir sent a wave of freezing wind into them.
That stopped them, and then Ymir froze them to the ground. Their tridents were in the perfect position to help prop them up. He froze their hands to their weapons. Before they could shout out in alarm, he ripped energy out of their duszas and added both souls to his core. He only had so much time before the last set of guards wondered why the mermen had stopped midway down the street.
Ymir then ducked back. Using the Yellow Scorch, he felt the amwabs in the chains. He churned up the heat in the links until they were glowing red. They then turned into red slag and dripped down onto the wet pavement. Ymir silently set the broken chains down. Then he did the same thing to the locks on the iron door set in the stone.
He didn’t need to speak a word. He just used the Akkiric Rings.
There was enough light from the street market to let him see the shelves inside. There were two full shipments of xoca beans. That would keep them going for months. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his business anymore.
Again, the Winter Flame aided him. He made a staircase of ice down the alley and up the tall wall.
Since he’d taken the duszas from four mermen, he had plenty of power to try his flight skill. “Caelum caelarum,” he whispered. He lifted four of the bags off the shelves, kept them floating, and then let them drift behind him as he climbed the ice steps to the top of the wall.
He set the bags down and let the spell lapse. Then he flicked out a finger and pointed to a stone down below at the waterline. “Ignis ignarum.” A little Sunfire spark came to life and glimmered there, a perfect signal for Ribby and Ziziva.
Then he went down and brought up four more bags. It took four trips to get everything. His steps were melting, but he was able to use the Winter Flame Ring to both keep them together and to add a layer of snow across the top so his feet weren’t directly on the ice.
He’d carried the last bag up on his shoulder with three more floating behind him. His empty boat sped toward him. Ribby towed it with a rope thrown over her shoulder.
Ziziva was back in her Winkle Self, barely discernible on a seat. She’d turned her Scintilla Dust low.
The pair had seen his Sunfire spark.
“Ignis inanis.” Ymir snapped it off.
Then he lifted the beans out, but he wasn’t alone. Ziziva flew up and used her own Moons magic to lower down the bags four at a time.
“Michalub! Andrub! Why have you stopped?” The two guards at the end of the street had grown too suspicious to keep silent.
Ymir took hold of the amwabs making up the ice stair and scattered them. The steps went from ice to water and splashed down. Ymir then dove off the walls and into the water. He caught the edge of the boat.
Ribby took off, pulling them through the currents with Ziziva, all of her lights doused, sitting in the boat, wrapped up in her cloak.
They cleared the northern parts of the wall, but already they could hear the cries, and the western side of the city grew bright with Sunfire magic as the merfolk realized someone had stolen the xoca beans right from under their noses.
Hickey Silkmuddle wouldn’t be happy, but what could she do? Slag’s Reef operated outside of the law. And there would be no proof that it was either Ymir or Ziziva who had taken the beans. Now, of course, The Paradise Tree would be operating normally for months to come. That would be suspicious, but Ymir was already seeing how he could have Professor Albatross spreading rumors that her family on Williminaville had gotten into the farming business. And at such a good time. He didn’t trust Linnylynn, at all, but he would keep her close, to use
her, and to keep an eye on her.
All these thoughts spun through Ymir’s mind as he was pulled through the water. It was a good thing he was strong.
Then Ribby pulled them into the shadowy swells, farther out to sea.
They’d done it. They had the xoca.
Ymir pulled himself into the boat.
The minute he did, Ziziva was in her Verum Self, straddling him and kissing him. “I want to answer your three questions, Ymir. And I’ll answer them honestly. Doing this with you, being in that place, with all those men wanting to fuck, has my honeypot dripping. I want you and Ribby to fuck me. I want you to fuck me everywhere.”
Ymir asked the sex questions of his people. “Will it disrespect our families? Will it disrespect ourselves? And will there be babies?”
“Yes, yes, yes, I know!” Ziziva complained.
He tried to use the Winter Flame Ring to ease the fairy girl back, but she didn’t mind the cold. So he ignited his Yellow Scorch and she yelped, her face red. “Ouch, bad Ymirry! Bad barbarian!” She smiled. There was a part of her that loved the Winkle Tongue.
Ziziva lifted a flask of some liquid. “We’ll drink more. We’ll talk. You’ll row some because we don’t want Ribby tired out because we can have such horny fun together. Such horny fucking fun.”
Ymir had no doubt of that. He took the flask and drank. It was some kind of sweet kelp liquor. It tasted like sweet rum. “We have a few hours to discuss the questions. Looks like we have a lot to talk about.”
Again, he promised himself he wouldn’t bed the fairy girl until he was confident she wasn’t trying to ensorcell him. It was amazing that she was winning him over as well as she was. She did have a certain magic to her, and it had nothing to do with spellwork.
Chapter Twenty-Five
YMIR BROUGHT THE BOAT up close to the lighthouse island’s dock. Ribby crawled out of the ocean on writhing tentacles and tied off the boat with her human hands. She circled a tendril around Ziziva’s waist and lifted her out of the boat. Then the mermaid dragged Ymir out of the boat and threw him onto his back.
