Princesses of the Ironbound Boxset: Books 1 - 3 (Barbarian Outcast, Barbarian Assassin, Barbarian Alchemist)

by Aaron Crash

  Tori thought she might’ve plateaued, so she pulled on one of Gatha’s nipples.

  “Harder, Tori.” Gatha’s hot breath scalded Tori’s tit. “Pull on my nipple harder. Don’t be gentle. Be rough.”

  The dwab grabbed the sensitive nub between her finger and thumb, squeezing and drawing it up from the tit itself. That was enough. The bestial woman let out a scream. She worked her hips up and down, her fingers rubbing and rubbing. It might’ve taken her a long time to get there, but her orgasm lasted a minute, if not two. All the while, Gatha whined and grunted as she fell back, breathing hard, whimpering a bit.

  By that time, the Inconvenience had left Tori. What it left behind? Feelings of love and the desire to cherish this strange woman. She kissed Gatha, who smiled up at her, a little frazzled, definitely sweaty, and those rose-colored eyes were soft now. It was like she’d changed from this harsh warrior into this love doll.

  Then tears filled Gatha’s eyes. “I want to do this again with you, Tori. I want you to come to me when you are in the Heat. That’s not what you called it, but I understand what it is. We don’t need Ymir. You and I can be enough for each other.”

  Tori wasn’t going to ruin the moment with an argument, or with the sad news that she already had three willing Inconvenience Partners and didn’t need any more. It would break the she-orc’s heart, and Tori had the idea it had been broken enough.

  Instead of talking about the stickiness of their relationship, Tori gave Gatha a quick little kiss on her green lips. “Let’s get out of here and see what that wave did. Betcha a million shecks that it’s not good.”

  Chapter Twelve

  YMIR HEARD THE CRIES of the people and the roar of the ocean. He’d been at his normal table on the second floor of the Librarium Citadel, going over his notes on how to forge the Yellow Scorch Ring—that damn poem was driving him insane.

  At the sound of the cataclysm, he jumped from his seat, sprinted down the steps, and raced to the Flow courtyard.

  There he saw a sight he’d never forget.

  Professor Issa Leel stood at the top of the Sea Stair, hands held high. The Focus ring on her left hand glowed like sunshine. In front of her was a mountain of ice, a wave of frozen water, which rose up above her in an arc. The wave wouldn’t have just drowned the Librarium Citadel, it would’ve struck the Imperial Palace as well. A spike of stone, perhaps some coral swept from the ocean floor, was like a ballista bolt, ready to slam through the window of the Reception Room.

  Caught in the frozen wave was more seaweed, kelp, and even some boats. The ice was stuck to some apartments, several businesses, and the staircases themselves,. However, the bottom of the Sea Stair hadn’t been iced over, only flooded.

  Ymir ran up to the professor and caught her as she fainted dead away in his arms. He held her, wondering at her power. This Ohlyrran professor had been such a pain in his ass, but her power was undeniable. And she’d saved not only the many books but also this summit meeting between those fucking fish people and the Sorrow Coast king.

  Ymir carried the unconscious professor to the infirmary. There, he found Old Ironbound’s doctor, Nuveehl Naymer, a silver-haired elf with a silver essess.

  Doctor Naymer gestured to the room. “You can lay her down in there, Ymir. What happened?”

  The clansman told her all he knew—a wave had risen out of the ocean and Professor Leel had frozen it before it could do much damage. He laid her in one of the beds.

  Loud shouts rang out in the hallway, followed by the quiet, calm voice of the Honored Princept. Ymir hurried out to see a massive fish man towering over Della Pennez in the hall. The other merfolk stood behind him, including some very nice-looking scaled mermaids with a variety of pastel-colored hair. One of the women held the merman’s ax.

  The Princept blocked the contingent’s exit. At the front was Marrib Delphino, the Ocean Father Divine of the Delphino family. His thick midnight-blue beard fell down the cuirass of his gleaming armor. His bulging dark eyes, spaced too far apart, glared at the Princept even as the tendrils on his squid ears shrank. The slits of his nose-less face flared out in a spray. “Out of the way, Princept! We had nothing to do with the wave! We won’t let you cast your fucking magic on us!”

  He went to shove Della out of the way.

  Ymir wasn’t going to let that fucking fish man touch his Princept—they might not be friends, but she was an enemy that Ymir liked.

  He brushed through the merfolk, grabbed Marrib Delphino by the back of his armor, spun him around, and slammed his back against the wall. Marrib was an armored tower of a creature, a full eight inches taller than Ymir, which put the merman over seven feet tall.

  The Ocean Father went to grab Ymir’s throat with his webbed fingers, each nail long, thick, and yellowed.

  The clansman struck away both arms. His first instinct was to punch this fishy fucker right in his slitted nose. He stayed his hand. He had merely wanted to stop him from shoving Della.

  A merman grabbed Ymir and drew him back, hands on his right arm and shoulder. A woman to the left went to seize the clansman.

  He tore himself away and spun, and, before Della could cast a spell, he was standing next to her.

  “Ignis ignarum!” the clansman spat, wreathing his fists in flames. It was a simple Sunfire cantrip, but it looked impressive. The hallway brightened.

  Marrib faced them. He reached back, and a purple-haired woman gave him his ax. Scales burst out of the skin of the merman’s already monstrous face. His pupils visibly shrank in the firelight. “You dare lay a hand on the head of the Delphino family? Who is this whelp?”

  The Princept lifted a hand. “Who he is doesn’t matter. Who I am is much more important. As the Honored Princept of the Majestrial Collegium Universitas, I can’t let you leave. You requested the conference at my school. Then we were nearly hit by that wave. You must admit, Ocean Father Divine, it is very suspicious.”

  The merman laughed, his eyes on Ymir. His blue beard split in a sneer, showing fangs instead of teeth. This thing ate fish whole, still living, as they wriggled down his throat. Ymir was sure of it. “If there was a windstorm, would you blame tornado people? Or maybe the Wingkin cause the hurricanes that plague the Scatter Islands. It was an earthquake wave, Princept, a tsunami. We had nothing to do with it!”

  Ymir found that ridiculous. That long shaft of coral had been headed for the Imperial Palace. This had all been a ruse to assassinate King Velis IX. He wanted this Marrib to try to come through him. He’d take that ax away and cut this fish man into steaks. He’d fry what was left in butter.

  “If you’ll allow me to cast a simple Flow spell,” Della said, “I might be able to ascertain if you are telling the truth.”

  Marrib lifted his ax. “If you utter a single syllable of the Studiae Magica, I will cut you both down.”

  “I would like to see your attempt,” Ymir said, locking eyes with the merman. “I’m curious about the color of your blood.”

  One of the mermaids laid a hand on Marrib’s shoulder. Ymir recognized her as Beryl Delphino, Charibda’s mother. “Marrib. Let me escort you back to the sea. Tempers are running high, and I wouldn’t want to risk this uncertain peace we discussed today. Please.”

  Marrib shrugged the hand off him. “Leave me be, sister. Your husband, my brother, was murdered by these dirt worms. I gave them the chance to treat me with respect, and they accuse me of treachery! Bah!”

  The merman was playing the victim a bit too well for the clansman. Ymir had seen the future. He’d seen that at some point, there would be war on the grounds of his school. That very day? Or in six months? He didn’t know.

  “Enough with the flames, Ymir,” Della said quietly.

  “Ignis inanis.” He let the fire around his fingers die.

  The Princept nodded. “Very well, Marrib. We will let you leave for now. Before you sink another ship, however, remember your pledge to us and the Sorrow Coast Kingdom.”

  Marrib coughed a snide grunt. “I
will not be reminded of things I agreed upon. I will let the families know what went on here...both the work I did and your accusations. We shall see how the next months unfold. I do not have hope. You’ve always hated us.”

  Della drew Ymir to the side to let the merfolk past.

  Beryl, the green-haired woman in a shimmering gown, stayed with them.

  “I had a vision of violence,” Ymir said. “The merfolk will attack our school. I’ve seen it.”

  The Princept sighed. “I’ve seen such things myself. If we are lucky, we can stop this. If we aren’t? We’ll fight.”

  Beryl hurried forward. She turned and gave both Ymir and Della a worried look. “I’ll talk to Marrib. We don’t need bloodshed. Thank you Princept, for allowing him to leave and avoiding violence.” Her eyes lingered on Della a moment too long.

  “You are most welcome, Former Ocean Mother Divine.” Della returned the heated gaze.

  Ymir hid his smirk. So, it seemed the Princept had found a new lover. He hoped this one would be less treacherous than the last.

  Beryl hurried across the bridge, under a hidden portcullis, and into the Librarium. Ymir instinctively thought about how it could withstand a siege. If need be, those bridges could be destroyed and the portcullis closed. Then the citadel would be a fortress once more.

  Della folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t need your help.”

  “I didn’t punch the fucking merman in the face. You’re welcome.”

  She turned her head, an amused expression on her face. He liked her new short white hair, and those gray eyes—they had a certain mystery to them, a certain weary wisdom. She was shorter than he was but not by much. Even in her Sunfire robes she would never be confused with a student—there was an agelessness about her. “I should be grateful. And the Sunfire cantrip was unexpected. You’ve come a long way.”

  “Professor Leel is a fair teacher. Mostly, I work hard, and it has been a year and some months, Della,” he growled.

  “Princept,” she corrected. “Now, to clean this mess up and try to find out what happened. Take my hand. Lead me to the Flow courtyard. Jelu devocho.” Her Focus ring flashed yellow-orange flames. Her eyes turned from gray to white, glowing. She reached out.

  Ymir took her hand. He didn’t talk since she was blind to the moment and he didn’t want to ruin her concentration. She was using powerful Flow magic to see if the wave had been sent by the merfolk or if it had been a natural occurrence.

  Her slender hand grew sweaty in his, but he didn’t care. They walked through the Librarium and out onto the Flow courtyard, where scholars had already gathered. Professors from the various colleges were leading the cleanup efforts. Gharam Ssornap directed some Sunfire upperclassmen to melt the wave that Professor Leel had frozen in place. Flow professors and upperclassmen directed the water back down the Sea Stair and out to sea. The Flow magicians included one mermaid and one fairy—those would be Phoebe Amalbeub and Lolazny Lyla, respectively. Form sorcerers led by Brodor Bootblack plucked debris from the frozen wave. Meanwhile, Moon sorcerers, including Ibeliah Ironcoat and Linnylynn Albatross, used wind to dry the stone. It would take a lot of work to clean up the entire eastern half of Vempor’s Cape, the cliffsides that included the Flow housing and the Sea Stair Market.

  Della’s eyes flashed back to normal. She didn’t offer up any information, and Ymir didn’t ask. She joined the other professors.

  Ymir watched, shaking his head. If the tsunami had managed to wreck his apartment in the sea alley, he’d lose a fortune in packaging and xoca pods. He hoped that wasn’t the case, or he might find himself back working for Gurla, the Janistra Dux.

  Chapter Thirteen

  YMIR SURVEYED THE DAMAGE at the top of the Sea Stair. He was surprised to see Tori and Gatha come walking up the steps, both looking flushed and flustered. They must’ve been down in Gatha’s mysterious new shop when the wave hit. They were lucky to be alive.

  Gatha didn’t bother to give Ymir even a side eye as she walked by him. Tori, though, fell against him. He reached down and pulled her into a hug. She stuck her face in his belly. He petted her hair. “You okay?”

  “You have to forgive Gatha,” Tori said. “She lost a lot of her smutty books in that annex. It was part of the Librarium. She’s not going to be very easy to get along with for a while.”

  Ymir burst out laughing. “And how is that a change?”

  The dwab jerked back. She shoved him. “You be nice now, Mr. Man. We’ve been through a lot, and Gatha more than most, I’ll warrant.” She lowered her voice and hissed the rest. “Did you know her family back in Ssunash hates her? And that includes her gosh-me-underground ahmer?”

  Ymir stopped laughing immediately. He took a moment to think. Ahmer was the Morbuskor word for mother. As for Ssunash, in Homme that was Grass City on the Blood Steppes.

  “No,” Ymir said seriously. “I didn’t know that.”

  Tori sank a fist onto her hip. “Well, now you do. And those books are important to her. She’s important to me now, if you must know. Because things happened when that wave hit. I had my damn Inconvenience.”

  “I’m glad you’re safe, Tori,” Ymir said. He had to steady himself so he wouldn’t grin. “So, Gatha helped you?”

  “She did.” Tori sighed, frustrated, probably as much with herself as she was with him. “And she was nice about it. Maybe too nice. She’s hurting, and I want to help, but by the old gods and the Tree, I just don’t know how that is going to play out. I wanted to use the second floor of her annex for our cook, but I have no idea the state it’s in.”

  “If it’s terrible, we could see about buying it and fixing it,” Ymir said. “But I have to check on my sea cell. There’s a good chance our business might have been ruined.”

  Speaking of ruined businesses, a very dazed Ziziva fluttered up and landed next to the Flow fairy professor. Lolazny held the little Fayee, her hair soaked, her dress ruined, as Ziziva wept. She might’ve lost most of her shop, and there was a good chance Nan Honeysweet had been swept out to sea.

  Ymir would have to check because that might have dramatic consequences for their business.

  Tori threw up her hands. “I’m going to the Zoo, and I’m gonna shower, and I’m going to make myself a cup of kaif and calm down some. Then I have to get to the feasting hall because all these hungry scholars are going to need to eat after they clean!”

  “After what you’ve been through, I think the feasting hall can live without you tonight,” Ymir said.

  “But maybe I can’t live without it, Mr. Man. Have you ever thought of that?” The dwab scowled and stormed off.

  As for Ymir, he found Jenny and Lillee standing at the top of the Sea Stair, watching the people work. The Sullied elf had her face buried in the crook of Jenny’s neck.

  The swamp woman gave him a miserable look. “My apartment’s all right. The wave didn’t hit that far north. As for Lillee, she’s scared all her artwork in her cell is ruined. She can’t bear to look. Do you mind?”

  Ymir rubbed the Sullied elf’s back and walked down the steps to see the wreckage. The owners of the Unicorn’s Uht, two human women, stood shaking their heads. Melissa Teheregi and Kadie Gnal owned the tavern.

  “How bad is it?” Ymir asked.

  Melissa Teheregi was the older and shorter of the two. She had red hair going white. “Heyya, Ymir. That’s the thing. We lost the sign. Other than that? Other places got hit harder. We’re good for now.”

  Kadie Gnal was younger, brown haired and brown eyed. She sighed. “Thank the Tree but we won’t have to close. Don’t quite understand it, though. That wave should’ve killed us and taken our business. But looks like things are all right.”

  “Good to hear it.” He gave them a nod and continued on down the steps.

  The Paradise Tree had survived the wave even better than the Unicorn’s Uht. That was very good news for Ziziva, and it gave Ymir some hope.

  As he descended the steps, he saw less wreckage, less debris, a
nd less damage. At the bottom, he turned to the left and walked under an archway, which led to the sea alley and his cell on the right.

  The rock above flashed as he walked under the stone, and he felt a blast of cold touch his back. He reached the other side and turned. Something there wasn’t right. The stones were dark and covered in black from their time in the weather. They dripped water from where the wave had hit them. The place smelled dank, but there was something else, some kind of maliciousness he could feel.

  Disturbed, he continued onward, sloshing through the water. He passed by the shower where the fire had almost killed him. The water was draining down the stones and out the grate at the other end. That round iron grate still had the broken lock, which Ymir kept broken. He liked that he had at least one little secret at the school.

  If the windows in their cells held, then they should be safe since the doors were raised off the floor and sealed in case of flooding. He checked Lillee’s cell first, whispering a Form cantrip to unlock it. That was something he’d learned that year in his study of cantrips.

  “Lutum lutarum.” He pushed open the creaking door. The room was dry. The window’s glass hadn’t been shattered. On the desk lay several sketches Lillee had been working on. He walked in to take a closer look. She’d sketched one of the mermen, Marrib Delphino, by the look of his long beard and the big ax. She’d captured the three bony ridges on his odd skull perfectly. He certainly looked the villain and had the arrogance of one as well.

  Ymir backed up, closed the door, and used magic to lock it. Again, he didn’t understand how the water could’ve left those windows intact while the damage was worse farther up.

  He checked his own cell with another spell, and yes, his cell was also undamaged. They’d put up shelves inside, pushing the desk and the bed against the far wall. The sacks of xoca pods were all safe and dry. The stacks of red ribbons and velvety black paper were undamaged. They’d also stockpiled extra supplies here, beet sprinkles and bottles of vanilla. The milk was kept cold in the Flow cupboards in the kitchen, magical boxes that kept the cream from spoiling.