by Dante King
“That’s why we started hanging together,” Kryn piped up. “We’re both odd ones out.”
“Well, Welcome to the Academy.” Iowyn grinned at me before she gave me a hug. I put my free arm around her, the one not gripping the staff, and felt the soft fur of her back as my hand melted into the warmth. In a moment, she was gone, and Kryn took her place. Her skin did feel a bit like moss, but it was soft and wonderful.
They went back to the pool side. I stood there and watched as they retreated, nearly as wonderful watching them leave as it had been watching them head my way.
“What are Elementals?” I asked.
“Elementals are…” Enwyn’s face clouded over, and she stared at the retreating pair. “A long, long time ago, before the Academy, there were certain wizards that thought to increase the likelihood that any given family would have a magic-abled child. They believed that more wizards with greater powers would be possible, so they created what was meant to be a ‘super wizard race.’ It created a sub-species instead, and when they began to reproduce and become their own race…”
“Yes?” I turned to her, letting my eyes slide off the girls in front of me.
Enwyn turned to face me. “They were hunted,” she said frankly, in a tone that made me realize that I was treading on sensitive ground. “They were nearly wiped out. The ones that were strongest went first. Now the Elementals have few members that are strong enough to merit coming here at all. Those that do have elemental affinities.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Take Iowyn,” Enwyn said off-hand, but my mind was already taking her, had been since I felt that soft, thick fur slide between my fingers. Enwyn cleared her throat and waited. “I meant as an example.”
“Sorry.”
“Iowyn is a Storm Elemental. Her people are naturals with weather, particularly squalls or sudden downpours. Iowyn can harness storms and direct them. She’s stronger than most of her people; that’s why she’s here.”
“And Kryn?”
“Her people are attuned to the winds. They are prized and hired by sailing ships and windmill owners. Kryn is particularly gifted and can conjure gale-force winds.”
“So they’re a race of people that pass wind?” I said, unable to hold the comment in.
Enwyn ignored me. I thought it was clever. “They’re a sub-race,” she said, giving me a look. “All Elementals are. The most powerful of them have been nearly hunted to extinction over the millennium. There are still some old fears around concerning Elementals, but that’s mostly in the cities and more toward the northern part of the continent.” Enwyn shrugged and started walking. “They’re only just seeing some of their people rediscover their strengths, and the Academy is trying to preserve and support them.”
A full elf came to greet Enwyn. This time I wasn’t introduced—I think I had pretty blown that privilege with my passing wind joke. The elf looked at me for a moment, as if she was expecting to find out who I was.
“Why didn’t you introduce me?” I asked my guide, after the bikini-clad elf had drifted away, moving her ass in a way that would have stopped traffic.
Enwyn and I both watched the elf girl leave. There was a lot there to watch and she didn’t cover much of it.
“Frankly,” Enwyn said, from the side of her mouth, “I didn’t introduce you because I’d forgotten her name. I’ve only seen her once or twice before.”
“I can’t blame you—that’s a body that doesn’t need a name.”
Enwyn chuckled. “You almost seem intimidated by the beautiful women here.”
“Intimidated? Me? Any fear or nervousness I had went out the trash along with the Bernard Bits.”
“Good,” Enwyn said. “You ought to be confident. There’s a lot of interest in you, and you’ll need to learn how to handle that. I’m afraid that even just being a male makes you a rarity and a point of interest. Since you’re rather handsome, that scrutiny will be even more pronounced. You may have to get used to a lot of attention.”
I thought for a moment, watching the thin, elongated back of the elf. She was narrow and tall, her hips trim, her breasts tight, and she moved like a dancer. When she smiled at me over her shoulder, the white teeth and the up-swept ears went straight into my heart…and came out my crotch.
“That’s all right,” I said, nodding a bit too eagerly. “I can get used to it if I have to.”
Enwyn tapped me on the shoulder and crooked her finger to get me to follow her.
Just inside the temple, there were massive portraits of men and women—mostly women—in long voluminous robes. Everyone looked as though they were vaguely disappointed at the people that traveled the hallways beneath them.
Then, I noticed that one of them was looking right at me. I thought that that was a cool trick. I’d heard that some really good artists could make a portrait look like they were watching you as you moved around a room.
Then the painting rolled its eyes and sighed.
I felt someone run into me before I realized I had stopped walking. The person tripped and nearly fell, but her frantic grab for my staff steadied her.
“Sorry,” we said at the same time.
“I shouldn’t have grabbed your shaft,” the young woman said, a cute blush on her cheeks. Blonde hair framed her high-cheekboned face. She was another elf, and the weird thing was that I was getting used to seeing them already. Since Enwyn and I had left the pool area, the elf wasn’t in a bikini, but I had to admit I was putting her there in my mind. Like every elf I’d seen, she was long-limbed, thin, and moved with an elegance I’d only ever seen in cats.
“My fault,” I said, only then realizing I was holding on to her arm. I’d reached out automatically to steady her and then forgot to let go again. I dropped the hand so fast I might have left my fingerprints on her wrist. “I, uh…” I glanced back at the painting which was now looking forward with a distinct air of annoyance. “I swear that painting rolled its eyes at me.”
The elf looked up to where I was pointing. “Oh. That was Professor Thran. From what I hear, she was a real bitch.” She patted my shoulder and smiled. “Don’t take it personally; she does that to everyone on their first day.”
My head swiveled from the painting to the girl and back again. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m Cecilia, by the way,” the elf said, offering a delicate hand.
“Justin.” I took her hand gently, like I was holding a small bird. I was afraid of breaking it.
“See you around, Justin,” Cecilia smiled and then—I swear—she checked me out. She looked me up and down and then walked off with a wink and a sway of her hips. If you’ve never seen an elf girl swing her hips, you need to add it to your bucket list.
I felt a weight on my shoulder. Enwyn had returned, and I felt kind of bad because I hadn’t realized she’d walked off until now.
“Remember what Barry said about the Chillgraves?” she asked.
I nodded. That ominous prediction just before he was led away in chains had stayed with me.
Enwyn nodded once in the direction of the retreating elf. “That’s the scion of the Chillgrave House.”
“Her?” I blinked. That was what I was supposed to be careful of?
Enwyn nodded.
I took a last glimpse before that wicked little ass disappeared around a corner.
Hell, it was worth the risk.
Chapter Four
Enwyn snapped her fingers under my nose and brought me back to reality—or, at least, back to the insane arcane world that was currently passing for my reality. I blinked. The vision of Cecilia Chillgrave’s retreating ass seemed to have been burned into my retinas like the sun does when you stare at it for too long.
“Yo,” I said, turning back to Enwyn. “I’m back. What’s up?”
“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” Enwyn asked me.
“About?”
Enwyn looked like she was having real trouble resisting rolling her eyes at me yet again.
> “About Cecilia,” she said. “About her family? You heard that, yes? That you should tread carefully around them?”
I nodded, trying to clear the hypnotic vision of the elf girl’s hips moving up and down, up and down, up and—
Enwyn jabbed me in the stomach with her finger.
“Ah, yes, yes, I heard you!”
“Good.”
Enwyn opened her mouth, as if thinking she’d give me a little extra rebuke, then ran her hand swiftly up the flat planes of my stomach and over my chest. She nodded to herself. “At least you’re in good shape,” she said, and there was a definite twinkle in her eye.
“Well, you never know when you’re going to find yourself at some mad, magical pool party, do you?” I replied, grinning.
Enwyn flashed a smile back at me, the crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes crinkling in that way that I was finding more and more alluring.
Goddamn it, but I bet she knew a trick or two in the bedroom.
“Right,” Enwyn said, cutting my imagination off before it could start wandering too far down that inviting little avenue of thought, “I’ve got to go and take care of a little business.”
I gave her a sly, knowing smile. “Do you just?”
The raven-headed woman snorted at me. “Not that kind of business,” she said. “I need to debrief Reginald on what happened to poor Bernard.”
I nodded, not knowing or really caring who Reginald might be. It was the sort of name that conjured an image of some dusty old fart with a mustache you could hide a badger in.
“All right,” I said. “What do you want me to do?”
Enwyn led me down to the end of the high-ceilinged corridor we were standing in and opened a door at the end of it. We stepped through this door and out into a magnificent marble-floored, circular hall. There were a dozen doors leading off of this hall—the doorway of one we now stood in—as evenly spaced as numbers on a clock face, and above it was—
“Well, would you look at that!” I said, my words colored with awe.
It was a chandelier—though that simple word didn’t do the thing the slightest bit of justice. Just calling the extraordinary object hanging fifty feet above mine and Enwyn’s head a chandelier was like calling the 1961 Jaguar E-type just a car, the Mona Lisa just a doodle, or the Empire State just a building.
It had ten exquisitely made arms; five crafted from what looked like solid ice, five carved out of gleaming black obsidian—alternately colored spokes in a stunning wheel. Each one was subtly different in its shape. At the end of each of these arms, where the candles should have been, burned a flickering golden flame suspended in the air. Every now and again, spider webs of branching lightning rippled across the surface of the great structure—from the base to the tips of each arm—and the flames flared slightly brighter. The entire otherworldly construction hung unsupported in the air and revolved slowly, powered by, what I could only assume was, a shitload of magic.
“Yes, it’s really something,” Enwyn said, winning the prize for the understatement of the year.
I grunted and hoisted my jaw off the floor and back into position.
“What is it for?” I asked.
“To light the room, of course,” Enwyn replied.
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” she said, flashing me another one of those illuminating smiles. She looked back up at the massive chandelier. “It’s a reminder, I suppose,” she said.
“Reminder?”
“Of what our world is made of, of the facets that make it what it is,” Enwyn explained. “Each arm represents one of the ten branches of magic. The five ice arms represent the five types of Elemental magic, while the obsidian arms symbolize the five types of Elder magic. The chandelier itself is constructed of magically frozen water and stone—symbolizing ice and earth—the flames, obviously, stand for fire—”
“And, let me guess,” I interrupted, “the flowing energy is lightning and the way that the whole thing revolves typifies the wind? The ten arms help support the whole structure, which probably personifies the kingdom?”
“That right. The Avalonian Kingdom, of which the Academy is a part, yes.”
“Is that my first A?”
Enwyn laughed. “You’ll need to do more than that to achieve top grades. But it seems you are not just a pretty face.”
I tore my eyes away from the chandelier, and they fell upon the Goth-looking older woman.
Who was magnificent in a whole other way.
“Okay,” Enwyn said, giving her head a little shake, “I’m going to debrief with Reginald.”
“And I’m going to…?”
Enwyn motioned to a door across the hall from us. It was slightly ajar and soft music spilled out of it into the cavernous atrium. “You’re going to mingle, Justin,” she said.
A smile lit my face. I couldn’t wait to meet some more of the students here. Hell, I might even find myself tongue-tied with a beautiful elemental, dwarf, or some previously undiscovered species of the fantastical variety.
Suddenly, I could feel the corners of my mouth tugging upward. I felt like a bloodhound on an unexpected scent. Here I was, a freshly minted wizard, in an arcane college stuffed to bursting with gorgeous women of all sorts of races and shapes. Not only that, but I was massively outnumbered in the gender department and was, according to Enwyn, probably going to be the hottest point of interest in the Academy.
May as well make the most of it. You never know when you might wake up and find that it was all just one hell of a dream.
“Justin? Are you all right?” Enwyn asked. Clearly, she had not failed to notice the dazed smile that had spread over my face.
Every perfect ass, every lithe leg, every curious eye, and crooked smile that had seen outside by the pool played across my vision. There were about ten chicks to every guy, it was as simple as that.
“Simple economics,” I muttered to myself. “Fucking supply and demand.”
“What was that?” Enwyn asked.
“Nothing. I’ll go and, ah, mingle then. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay,” Enwyn said. “And remember; this is your first day. Go and get yourself a drink and chat. Play nice and behave yourself.”
I turned away from her and set out across the floor.
Behave myself…
I’d always found that to be about as easy as bagging flies.
I sat at the bar and eyed the drinks menu, while also trying to surreptitiously eye the chick pouring the drinks. She was petite, pale-skinned with slick-backed hair that glistened, and beads of moisture across her full lips. She looked like a supermodel who’d just stepped out of a swimming pool.
“Can I get you something?” she suddenly asked me, jerking me from my reverie. I realized that I’d been staring.
“What? Oh, uh…”
“What’s the matter?” she asked, in a voice that sounded like cool rain falling into a clear pool. “Haven’ you ever seen a water nymph before?”
Water nymph. Better add that to the freakin’ lexicon.
“Honestly,” I said, “no.” I gave her a half smile. “But I would definitely remember if I had, if they all look like you.”
Once more, I was reminded of how I had stepped into a world of so many potential firsts.
Ever slept with a nymph? No.
Ever slept with an elf or an Elemental? No.
Did I want to? You bet your ass I did.
The nymph’s sanguine face twitched in amusement. “What are you having?” she asked.
“What do you recommend?”
“Well, the Insanity Special is always popular, but it might not be the place nor the time to be getting quite that drunk. The Occult Vodka Blitz is a cocktail that’ll leave your breath smelling enchanting. A shot of bat brandy will put a fire in your belly, though”—the nymph leaned forward, cocked her head to one side, and licked her dewy lips—“you strike me as someone who already has plenty of that.”
It w
as apt that she was talking of fire, because at that moment, I could feel something like molten metal slowly uncoiling through my gut and into my groin. I realized that it was lust. This nymph was the sort of girl that could give a jellyfish a hard-on.
I swallowed. There was no harm in trying to behave myself for five minutes, was there?
“Just some”—my eyes flicked over her tantalizingly bare shoulder to look at the drinks menu behind the bar—“Makutu Mead, thanks.”
The nymph slunk to the end of the bar and began to fill a silver tankard from a tapped keg. I sat on my stool and made a mental note to ask for her number.
That was a good point. Did they even have phones here? How the hell were you supposed to get in contact with your 3a.m princess after a few too many magic martinis if you didn’t have a phone?
A friendly clap on the shoulder broke my train of thought and made me turn from the water nymph’s alluring curves. I rotated on my stool and found myself face-to-face with a trio of guys who I took to be fellow Academy students.
Correction. I found myself face-to-face with two of them, and face-to-chest with the third guy. It was the third guy who captured my initial attention—it was kind of hard to overlook a dude who was the size of a vending machine and looked like he’d been carved out of a giant block of beef.
“Hi,” this fucking enormous guy said. To my astonishment, instead of adhering to every Hollywood convention I knew about big, intimidating dudes tapping on the new guy’s shoulder and then punching his lights out, the giant gave me a bright smile.
“Uh, hey,” I said. Then I quipped, “Don’t eat me, I swear I’m not an entree.”
The huge stranger—a Hawaiian or Pacific Islander I guessed his ethnicity to be, and at least seven-feet tall—laughed. It was a great, rumbling chuckle that seemed to echo out of the bowels of the earth. His body, made up of nothing but giant slabs of solid muscle, heaved with mirth. His thick black dreadlocks writhed like snakes about his face.
“Well met, friend!” he said, his voice a deep bass.
“The name’s Justin,” I said, holding out a hand. “Who’re you lot?”
