by Aaron Crash
Winslo had made it clear that she didn’t like Della or Ymir. Winslo couldn’t tell Della whose exam she’d proctored, but the Princept was fairly certain that the special envoy from the Alumni Consortium had been in the dungeon under the Flow Tower overseeing the barbarian’s exam.
That would explain why Winslo both praised Ymir for being brilliant and showed her complete disgust in him as a person and as a scholar. She used the words handsome, genius, and asshole all in the same sentence, though Della would’ve gone with smug little prick back when she’d first met the clansman.
Della didn’t like Winslo there, looking over her shoulder, but then, if Unger was about, they might all die. Unger. The name made Della’s blood turn to ice. Him being a dragon made perfect sense to her. He’d always been too different, too powerful, too cold. And she could see Unger the dragon starting the Midnight Guild to manipulate the world, to keep it the way he wanted.
It was Friday night after Second Exams; the scholars that failed were on their way home. The ones that succeeded would continue.
Della had been worrying about Gatha and Lillee passing since they had spent so many months drinking, but both did, with flying colors. Tori did well too, and Jennybelle continued to show her gifts.
For now, Ymir and his harem were all safe from expulsion.
As for the poor mermaid girl out on the StormLight Island, Della and Winslo had come up with a way to test her using mere paper and ink. It was an archaic way of running tests and not something that really evaluated someone’s knowledge of their classes, but they had no choice. Ribby did well on both her First and Second Exams.
Della let out a breath. She wanted a kharo stick so badly she felt she might die, and instead poured herself the rare glass of wine from a bottle in her desk. She used an old kaif cup to hide the fact that she was drinking.
The bottle rattled when she opened her bottom drawer, but Della hardly heard it. She heard a voice whisper to her from the shadows, “You worry too much about what others think, Honored Princept. You have not embraced your power yet. You will, I think, and you will learn to relish your power and your passion soon enough.”
Della’s heart stopped. She smelled Sarina Sia’s musky perfume, and the temperature plummeted. The dead were cold, everyone knew that, and Della most especially.
Della poured the wine into her cup. “You’ve been quiet, Sarina. I thought you might have given up our halls and found your own nest in the afterlife somewhere on the lofty branches of the Tree of Life.”
Around her, chuckles, and Della almost felt fingers touch her neck. Those fingers wouldn’t be cold. They would be warm.
“I always did prefer the old gods, Princept, which is why I didn’t want my body burned.” The ghost’s voice was both spectral and immediate, both loud and yet a whisper. “For the old gods promised a heaven where you would kiss the Artist and dance with the Reveler and fuck the Warrior until you were just a bit sore. The sore that is both naughty and nice.”
Della turned quickly. Her office was gloomy. The Sunfire candles on her desk burned brightly, but the winter had its shadows that wouldn’t be appeased. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the elven Princept for a moment—the pointed ears, the wrinkles around her eyes, the salt in her hair. For an older elf, she was lovely, and she had such cushiony tits pressing against her gown.
The image was gone, and only shadows remained.
“You didn’t answer my question, Sarina. You’ve been gone. And now you are back. I’m assuming there’s a reason.” Della lifted her cup to her lips. Her hand didn’t tremble. She found that very satisfying. She could talk with a ghost and not shiver in the slightest.
“Oh, Honored Princept, my movements are watched by viler things than dragons, and yes, the dragon did come to Ymir, to scare him, though it did little to unnerve that man. It did unnerve you, and that was his intent. Don’t doubt yourself. Unger is the dragon, and the dragon is here. Don’t be afraid. You are not the girl you were when you met him. You have spilled blood, and you will deal with him in time. When he reveals himself. You’ll know the time.”
Della felt so close to Sarina at that moment, just a whisper away, just a turn of the head. The Princept could feel the cold shadow of her presence, yet there was a warmth to the specter’s words.
“When the seventh ring is forged. When we grow the uncanny fruit.”
Sarina agreed. “The Ventita Fructus. All of heaven and a good portion of hell is waiting on those rings to be forged. Don’t doubt your courage or your passion. Don’t be cold, Princept. Let your heart guide you. Remember that not all seeds are bought by coins, and the most fertile soil is the imagination. You will be visited by the fairies. Tonight, there is leverage to be had. Use the ring, Princept. Use the ring.”
A second later, both the whispers and the perfume of the former Princept were gone. Sarina Sia had warned her about the fairies, and to be honest, Della had nearly forgotten about them. However, she was looking forward to finally finding equal footing with Dillyday Everjewel. The fairy queen had seduced her before, and then removed those memories—Ymir had made that clear.
Now? Della reached into a pocket in her robes and felt the Veil Tear Ring. She’d worn the ring. More than once. Now the fairy magic wouldn’t be able to remove her memories. And yes, she would put on the ring and delve deeper into the fairy queen’s life.
What connection did she have with the dragon? What games were the fairies playing at her school?
Della was intent on finding that out.
She would’ve just gone to the Winter Solstice Festival in her Princept robes, but now that she knew the fairy queen would be there that night, Della used Moons magic to float up to the sixth floor.
Just peering into her alcove got her heart beating a little faster. She’d had sex there many times, with many lovers, but tonight, she wanted to bring Queen Deedee to her room. But it wouldn’t just be the fairy queen—there would be any number of Fayee. Would Ziziva be there?
The Princept had heard about Ymir’s tryst with her, though the barbarian wasn’t telling her everything. Even when she’d told that man she’d been a Silent Scream killer, her most desperate secret, he still wouldn’t be completely honest with her. It was infuriating as well as intriguing.
Della had never followed her heart. But she was now, even though it meant she might get hurt or die. It was strange how much she trusted Ymir and his harem. Or maybe it wasn’t so strange. They were the best of the best.
Della took her time in her shower, the water warmed by Sunfire magic. She soaped every part of herself, taking care to clean the rosebud between her ass cheeks. According to stories, the fairies had a special affection for what they referred to as their butter hole. The Princept wasn’t unfamiliar with such activities. She often enjoyed them, though the feelings could be elusive. Sometimes anal sex felt good. Other times it didn’t. That made it all the more special and forbidden.
Della put on a fine crimson and gold dress, Sunfire colors, something that showed some of her cleavage, but definitely put the emphasis of the outfit on her hips. She had scarves she threw on, to be a little more formal, since Yannc Winslo would be there.
Della also put on jewelry, which included a silver necklace. She considered putting the Veil Tear Ring on the necklace but thought against it. She didn’t like the ring touching her skin.
She did her hair, added a bit of paint to her face, and brushed perfume on her throat and the sides of her breasts. She’d let her own musk be the fragrance of choice between her legs. Again, she felt the anticipation of the evening with the fairies slicken her sex.
She would remember. And depending on what they did, she would have leverage over them. And she had the ring. She couldn’t forget the ring.
And Della knew that Sarina Sia would be watching from the shadows. Yes, Sarina might be dealing with things worse than dragons, but she was still a perverted voyeur who loved to partake in orgies, if only just to watch.
As a last tou
ch, the Princept took hold of a box of warding powder, fashioned by graduate students in her Form college. She shook the warding powder on the stairs leading up to the Illuminates Spire. She also shook it around the corners of her floor, as well as in the bathroom, where there had been a secret door at one time.
If all went well, she would have guests in her room that night, and while Della trusted in her own power, and the power of the Veil Tear Ring, she didn’t want any of the guests being where they shouldn’t be.
She set out a box of special toys to use that night. She’d gotten a bit of help from Brodor, but she couldn’t very well give the entire task to the dwarf, for these objects were of a special nature. An intimate nature. And after his divorce, it was doubtful that Brodor Bootblack would ever have his Inconvenience again. Besides, these were for women, not grumpy dwarves.
Della locked her front door and took the steps down to the bottom floor. Passing her alcove, she did have a moment of doubt since she’d had so many good times there. However, with the Fayee she wanted more privacy. And Sarina could walk through doors. She’d have to use the door—the warding powder everywhere else would keep her out. For the living, it would have more damaging effects.
Della took her spot at the faculty table in the feasting hall, which was decorated with evergreen branches and candles. Crimson streamers hung over the windows below big green bows. Everyone seemed to be happy and festive. Gharam and Brodor had already drunk too much beer and were shouting across the room to Ymir. Even Issa Leel was a bit less reserved.
Della found two sets of guests interesting, however. The fairy contingent, which did include Dillyday Everjewel as a special guest, sat at their little table balanced atop a larger table. Deedee, Ziziva, and Zorynda had all filled out the requisite paperwork to attend the festival, since they were neither staff nor scholars. With the fairy queen was her bodyguard, Jacinta Sugartime, pink-haired, in her tiny armor, carrying her tiny sword.
There was another fairy with them, the liaison to the royal imperial family, Anny Prettytoad. The green-haired fairy giggled and acted as silly as the others. Ymir insisted it was something called the Winkle Way, and that the Fayee had used it to trick all of Thera. When they were serious, or conducting business, they used the Verum Way, which was completely different.
Deedee, the fairy queen, caught Della looking.
Della didn’t glance away, but continued to stare at the queen. Della wanted to make it clear that she didn’t want to spend the evening watching her scholars dance. She wanted the fairies, as many as she could get, all together in her own bedroom.
The imperial family didn’t seem to miss the fairy. Arlynda Appleford, the matriarch and mother of the dead vempor, laughed and asked for more of the festival beer. Her daughters-in-law were embarrassed by her, but they showed their discomfort in forced smiles rather than frowns.
The three grandsons, the heirs to the throne, all had bright faces and inquisitive eyes, glancing around at all the pretty scholars.
The eldest, Erwin, with the big nose and little sense, shouted along with Gharam and Brodor and Ymir. Fannen kept muttering for his older brother to shut up. Too bad Fannen didn’t have a chin. And then there was the youngest, Jayke, who stood to escape the dramatics of the Appleford family.
Jayke approached Della and knelt. “I would just like to say thank you, Princept, for allowing us here, for giving us such good protection, and for bringing in the dignitaries to discuss the future of Thera. I know we’re supposed to be festive tonight, but you’ve been very busy, and I’ve not had a chance to thank you.”
Della noticed the orange flecks in his otherwise mild green eyes. He was such a polite, smart young man.
The Princept wondered if he was still a virgin—growing up in the court at Four Roads, being as handsome as he was, and with a definite if unlikely path to political power, Della could only assume some woman had taught him sex.
If not, Della might have to take a trip to Four Roads to help the boy with his education.
The idea shocked her for a moment. Then she chided herself. There was no way that would ever happen. She nodded. “It is our pleasure, Jayke. What happened to your father was very sad.”
“They found him naked, whole, his bed had burned to the stone, but he hadn’t been touched by it,” the boy whispered. “My mother found him. She said there was a sweet smell in the air. We think it might be poison, something he breathed in. The Silent Scream have their poisonous powders, I’m sure. Powdered bloodcross mushrooms, mixed with sugar rose, perhaps. It would be a pleasant if deadly perfume.”
Della was surprised.
Jayke saw her surprise. “I read a great deal. Some think that was how the Vempor Aegel Akkridor was murdered, but no, he died in fire, a flame so hot that it melted rock. Ancient Sunfire magic, perhaps, or the technology of the hellfire arrows. Maybe a hellfire sword.”
Della noticed that Anny Prettytoad had her eyes fixed on both Jayke and Della. It could be that Anny had fucked the boy silly and then either made him forget or made sure he remembered every single dirty thing the fairy had done to him.
Either way, Anny was very interested in their conversation.
Was Jayke doing this on purpose?
Della bristled at the idea she was being used. Again. She thought about slipping the Veil Tear Ring on right then, but she’d tried to scry the family to get to the truth of the murder. They were being protected by something or someone. Maybe by Anny Prettytoad herself. Perhaps. Della would learn that night.
Jayke rose and bowed. “I don’t want to disturb your meal. I will take my leave, but you have my gratitude. And being here I know, when I’m old enough for college, I want to come here. The place has fired my imagination.”
Sarina’s words came back to Della. “Our imaginations do provide fertile soil to grow the gardens of our lives,” she said.
Jayke smiled sweetly. “That is it, exactly. You know, I’ve spent my entire life studying the Withering.”
It was cute how the young referred to their “entire life” as if it were so very long.
“Perhaps I’ll come here and find a cure,” Jayke said. “Then some of us might go back to monogamy. I’ll probably have many wives, but what I really want is a love so strong that it eclipses everything else.”
He bowed.
Della nodded.
And the encounter was over.
The Princept found the boy adorable—this princeling with medical inclinations, who wanted to address the Withering and bring back monogamy. Della couldn’t imagine marrying and only having sex with one person for decades. She’d rather be the seventh wife in Ymir’s harem.
All those oheesies. That one big uht. Yes, Della could see herself being very happy in such a situation.
The party moved from feasting to dancing. The Princept stood and chatted with the professors and several scholars, and then she got a fresh glass of wine and approached the fairy queen.
Queen Deedee spun around Della, her blue wings sending blue dust in the air and her blue hair swinging around her head. Her eyes showed her wrinkles when she smiled, and she smiled all the time. “Happy, happy, Winter Solstice. The days are short, but the light isn’t gone. A new age is upon us, a new day will dawn. You gave me a look that might be more than a look, it might. What have you come to say this night?”
“I have a question to ask,” Della said, keeping her voice firm.
Her eyes went from Deedee’s face, down her little titties, to her plump hips, a little bit thicker than the other fairies, given her age.
The Princept had a vision of getting all of the fairies in a row, in their Winkle Selves, and having them bend over naked. Then she could rub a finger over each one of their tiny oheesies. It was a strange and nasty thought.
The fairy queen saw it immediately. “A special meeting, a special talk, like we had before, but you might not remember.”
Della smiled good-naturedly at what was typical conversation. Only it wasn’t. Queen Deedee h
ad just admitted to removing memories after seducing her. “I have had dreams of us together. What strange things dreams are. But yes, I do have some business to discuss, about the imperial family, about the assemblage, and a few questions about the Undergem Guild. Perhaps we’ll speak of dragons.”
A little fear flickered through the fairy queen’s eyes.
It was gone in a moment. “I’ll gather up a few of my cohort, and we’ll come to you. Where will we have this meeting?”
“My bedroom,” Della said bravely.
She then turned and walked away. She wasn’t sure if Deedee gasped or giggled. It sounded like it might’ve been both.
Chapter Thirty-Three
DELLA HAD A TABLE WITH chairs in her room. That was where she set the wine, the beer, and some treats that Agneeyeshka had brought up from the kitchen. With Tori’s help. Though Tori was now dancing and enjoying the Winter Solstice.
Della thought about inviting the little woman to join them, but then, Tori was taking a break from her Inconvenience, which Della would understand. Carrying one’s sexuality could be burdensome at times.
Della didn’t need the chairs since the fairies sat on various little things on the table: a book, an overturned bowl, a cup. There were five fairies in all. Queen Deedee was there, of course, and her pink-haired bodyguard, Jacinta, who smiled and giggled but rarely spoke. Professor Lola had come at Deedee’s invitation. The Flow professor had short dark hair and black eyes, and was a little drunk already. She had little cups of honey wine that made her sneeze every so often. Two former students had joined them, Ziziva Honeygood, who seemed very nervous, and Zorynda Gold, who was not nervous at all. Her tiny eyes kept dropping from Della’s face to her chest.
With five fairies in her room, Della was growing accustomed to their sweet smells. She knew she would have to go through the normal pleasantries, but she was getting horny. And the queen hadn’t made her move yet. Della hadn’t gotten dizzy, and there hadn’t been a shower of that dust, which seemed to both make her horny and make her forget.
