Gideon began bouncing up and down impatiently. “Come on, you two.” He popped away from the overlook and made his way to the stairs.
"Five hundred and one!” he insisted, almost frantically.
Trevor nodded numbly and motioned to Morgan to resume their trek. His heart felt like mud and his legs as heavy as iron as he followed behind. She doesn't even remember the day that changed your life. The day your heart broke, hardened to granite. The day you decided to leave your mother alone, break her heart as well, and run off to the Academy.
And you still want to kiss her, he thought in amazement.
"I'll have that kiss now, Morgan."
Trevor felt fierce and dark and dangerous and wondered if he was capable of forcing himself on her. The thought stunned him and he dismissed it quickly. She's making you insane! She's using witchcraft!
He reached up and grabbed her hand, roughly pulling her back to the landing. She gasped as he laced her hair in his fist and pulled her head back sharply.
Morgan's dress fluttered around her as a warm breeze swept across the hillside. Birds began chirping in the pines and a shimmer of blue light swept up from the ground and circled the couple. Trevor felt a familiar pulse of power begin at his feet. Magic. It had been months since he had felt the strength of magic in his limbs, in his veins. Morgan shuddered as he brought his arm around her waist.
"What's happening?” Her eyes widened as she looked at his lips.
"I'm going to kiss you."
"I thought so. But what's happening to..."
Trevor put his finger over her mouth to shut her up and felt a tingle at the contact. He leaned in, only a few inches, and Morgan laced his hair in her fingers. A second stir of air warmed the hillside further. Trevor felt his knees begin shaking as he pushed closer and Morgan closed her eyes.
A woman's voice slipped into his brain.
"You aren't a boy, Trevor. Take what you want."
Trevor pressed his lips lightly onto Morgan's. And felt the earth fall away from under his feet. Sweet, hot, strong. He took his time, pulling at her bottom lip, then her top lip. A nibble. A lick. Another nibble. A tentative probe of his tongue. Another, deeper probe.
Morgan moaned, and it was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled her in tightly, plundering her mouth as she sighed and pressed her body against his, wrapping his long hair tighter around her fingers. Every nerve ending in Trevor's body lit up and sizzled.
Trevor pulled away for a second and looked into her eyes.
"Morgan, look at me.” His voice shook. I don't remember ever kissing another woman.
The voice returned. "You are not a boy. You are the Wizard of Time."
Trevor pushed her against a tree trunk and held her hands over her head as he devoured her mouth until she panted and squirmed. He pressed his fierce erection against her belly and she squealed at the touch.
"Don't tell me to stop, Morgan. I'll have you now.” He could barely breathe as he moved his lips along her white flesh, along her collarbone and back to her neck, to her ear, and back to her lips.
"Whoa!” Gideon cried out in terror. He began crying and screaming and flopping around on his back.
Trevor turned in time to see the lizard's front limbs sprout long wings. It lasted a moment only.
Gideon sobbed furiously and Trevor ran to him, scooping him up.
"Oh, my! Trevor, what happened?” Morgan ran over to examine the lizard.
"I think a spell that got corrupted began to work again."
Morgan opened her mouth to speak and Trevor shook his head in warning, mouthing the word ‘dragon'.
Morgan mouthed back a silent ‘Oh’ and rubbed Gideon on the head. A cool breeze blew through and Trevor and Morgan both looked out over the trees, together sensing a shift in magic and time. The circling dragon swooped down and disappeared into the forest.
Trevor hugged Gideon close under his cloak and moved to the stairs. He spoke softly into his cloak. “Five hundred and one, five hundred and two!"
A muffled “five hundred and three” escaped from his cloak and Trevor breathed a sigh of relief.
If only his heart would stop threatening to pound out of his chest. Because he had tasted Morgan Daemoniani. And he knew that life would never be the same again. Nothing else existed for him but the need to have her mouth again. Have all of her. He walked the steps numbly, trying to focus on cheering Gideon on.
"Nine hundred eighty-five!" Gideon seemed back to his old self, now scampering on ahead of his slightly tired companions.
The spires and turrets of Galronmeer Castle appeared suddenly and all three visitors oohed and aahed. Gleaming white marble sparkled and shone like opals. Colorful banners flew from every turret. Archers leaned against battlement walls in shining armor.
"One thousand and one! Hey, that's not right!” Gideon scratched his scaly head in confusion. “Maybe we should go down and start over?"
"Shush. You aren't supposed to notice,” Morgan warned quietly and pointed to a sign that read, ‘There are decidedly one thousand steps to the castle. Those caught arguing this FACT will be fined three gold orts.'
* * * *
King Artimer paced with his hands behind his back, as kings are wont to do. Gideon jumped up and down trying to get the King's attention, but Art didn't seem to notice. Morgan made the introductions and Trevor and Gideon performed low sweeping bows, which seemed to please Art tremendously.
"You're not the Trevor we went to school with?” Art blew an errant blonde curl out of his deep blue eyes.
"Yes, Sire, in fact I am. We both played for the Squirrels, although I spent most of the time on the bench. As I remember, you hit about five hundred?"
Art smiled and quickly strode to the mantel of the huge royal fireplace, where he picked up a miniscule trophy. He handed it to Trevor, who read the inscription aloud.
"Player of the Year, Castle Borough Squirrels. Wow, Sire, very nice. Sure, I remember now."
Trevor placed the trophy back in its spot of honor and turned to Morgan, stifling a laugh.
Morgan frowned at him and turned to the King. “Well, Art, you seemed pretty anxious to see me? Feeling okay, everything good at the castle?"
Anger slowly built and took shape on her handsome cousin's face.
"You know damned well that things aren't fine, Morgan! First I start getting complaints that my official sorceress is a hack, then the Knights lose several games straight—and hey, I just bought them new uniforms. And then ... well..."
"It's okay; you can talk in front of Trevor. He's a Wizard, and my new partner."
Art paled a bit and eyed Trevor suspiciously. “I heard something about you taking off for the Academy, but I thought it was rubbish."
"Art ... you were saying...” Morgan prompted.
Art flopped into his throne and ran his hand through his golden curls. He looked at Trevor again and nodded.
"Okay, you two.” They all turned when Gideon squealed in frustration. “You too, young man, over here, have a seat.” Art patted his lap and Gideon scurried up and stared up at the King in adoration.
"The potion, Morgan. The sex potion. It's shit."
"Hmnn. Thought so. You see..."
"Sex potion!” Trevor laughed. “Why in Heaven's name would you need a sex potion?"
"It was to make Art irresistible to women.” Morgan looked at him seriously.
"He looks pretty irresistible to me. I mean, to women. Oh, you know what I mean. And he's the freaking King. What's the problem?"
"He's shy. He doesn't really know how to approach women. I guess it's some failure in his upbringing. Now Uncle Lars, his father, had the opposite problem..."
Art cleared his throat. “I'm sitting right here, Morgan. I can hear you. Look, Trevor, I can see with a glance you're the type I hate. Women walk right up to you in taverns, right? Ask if they can buy you ale? Call you ‘big boy’ and names like that? Thought so. Me, I just clam up. I'm getting to the age where folks expect me to sire
an heir."
"Sire, may I offer a suggestion?” Trevor arched a brow. “Why don't you hold a royal ball and just announce that you're looking for a wife. I'm fairly certain a lot of nice young women will show up. You won't even have to come up with a pick-up line. ‘I'm King Art’ should do."
Morgan put her hand on Trevor's arm. “That's not the problem, Trevor. It's the next part ... you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Hmnn. A little trouble in the sack, Sire?"
Art sighed deeply. “Try to understand, this is a pretty big decision. It's not like the olden days, when kings could just whore around as they liked. Have to be a good role model and all that jazz. So it has to be the perfect woman. I get a little, um, shy when I start worrying about things like that. Seems to come up at the wrong moment, if you know what I mean."
"You're frightened of making the wrong choice. Like every man alive."
"But I bet that doesn't stop you from ... you know."
"Well, I'm not exactly in your position. Look, Sire, let me handle this.” Trevor smiled slyly.
"Wizard stuff?” Art looked nervous.
"No, no. I think I might have the right girl. Can I set you up? Maybe just coffee?"
Art smiled shyly. “Is she pretty? Nice? Not a witch, is she? No offense, Morgan."
"Trust me on this one. Shall we say, Saturday, your place? Her name is Tessa. Looks, well, looks a little bit like me, except curvy and such.” Trevor kicked Morgan lightly in the shin when he heard her gasp.
"Okay, I'll do it.” The King stood and grinned, then lost his smile quickly.
"There's this other matter. The farmers are complaining that something's screwy. The weather, the seasons?"
"It's time, Sire. It's moving backwards.” Trevor looked serious and waited for Art to take it in.
Art looked up at the golden clock on the mantel.
"No, it doesn't affect the clocks."
"What the hell's causing it, Trevor? This is no good, I tell you. It's disconcerting."
"It's deadly. Because if time moves backwards far enough..."
"Oh. But we're moving forward, I mean, we're not saying what we said a few minutes ago, you know? Hmnn, this is a bit confusing."
"Yes, I know it is. It doesn't seem to be changing our time, but Nature's time. The seasons, the weather, as you said. And magic. It's down to a mere sizzle. A lot of the world is held together by magic, and a lot of it is going to start falling apart pretty quickly."
"Like what?"
"Well, for one, your castle was built around two hundred by an ancestor of mine using magic. I'm not sure how strong the foundations are ... And then there's the Squoog. Remember how the High Council changed its course a few years back when it threatened to flood the town?"
"Crickey. Well, you're the wizard, do something. And report back to me as soon as you've done whatever it is you're going to do.” Art waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and Trevor looked at Morgan. She bowed and backed away from Art and Trevor did likewise. Gideon remained on Art's lap.
"Gideon!” Trevor scolded. “We're leaving."
"Aww, come on, we just got here."
"Run along, little dragon,” Art pushed him off his lap and patted him on the butt.
Trevor and Morgan looked at each other in amazement.
"Art, doesn't Gideon look a bit small to be a dragon?” Morgan ventured.
The King studied the lizard carefully. “Not really. Seems a pretty good dragon to me.” Gideon grinned and wagged his long spiky tail as he joined Trevor and Morgan.
Art winked at Trevor, who grinned in appreciation.
"I like your cousin, Morgan. He hung with a different crowd in school, never got to know him. Maybe we can go out for a drink sometime."
Chapter Four
The class looked up as Headmistress Loves peeked around the corner of the door. Jordan felt the familiar restlessness she constantly evoked in him. Evoked in every male at the Academy. She somehow managed to make her voluminous black robe look sexy. It was those eyes, he thought. Those green jewels. They just drilled through you, straight into your heart and soul, eventually terminating in your crotch until you wanted to scream in frustration.
"Professor Schrom, may I have a moment of your time?” Jordan nodded glumly as the whispers and giggles erupted like sputtering fireworks. The rumors flew through the Academy, he knew. Headmistress Loves and Professor Schrom. Doing the nasty in the teachers’ lounge, it was said. Quick trysts in the library under books starting with the letter ‘X'.
At times, Jordan had nearly begun believing the rumors himself, they were so pervasive. But the truth was, every night he would eat with the wretched young wizards and witches and then retire to his quarters to catch a bit of the ball game or even a bit of the Naughty Channel.
Because Jordan Schrom was a nerd. And Drussy Loves was a fox. And his only friend. And Jordan had a better chance of getting hit by lightning again than getting the Headmistress into the sack.
"How's the head?” Drussy looked concerned as they made their way down the wide hallway, past the trophy case, and into her office. She sat behind her desk and Jordan sat across from her.
"Umn, better, I think. I'm not hearing fruit call my name anymore."
"Well, that's an improvement.” Drussy smiled, and Jordan wanted to leap across the desk to press his hands around her lovely throat until she screamed for mercy. Drussy had quickly pulled off her long robe to reveal an expanse of curvy flesh poking out of a nearly see-through pink blouse. Her short dark hair stood up in messy curls and spikes. Jordan fantasized about getting a good grip on that short hair to hold her head back while he ravaged her mouth.
"You really might want to give up that thunderstorm golf. I don't quite understand why you're the only one ever struck—maybe your powers are a little out of whack."
Jordan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms petulantly.
"Well ... never mind that. Jordy, I need to discuss something rather serious with you. A few things, actually."
"Mnnn?” Take your clothes off and lay naked on this desk for me or I'll fry you, Drussy. At least, I would if I hadn't lost magic.
"I intercepted this ... this missive. Last night. Mary Mischcan was climbing down the trellis of Amaryllis House and making a beeline across the field towards the wizard's dormitory."
"Well, I certainly don't get involved in these matters, Drussy. Doesn't Dr. Schneiderman deal with the students’ interpersonal issues?"
"Just read it, Jordy."
Jordan opened the scroll and gasped.
Dear Professor Schrom,
I love you. I will die without you. I hate Headmistress Loves and hope she turns into a Borongo Hissing Frog so we can be together. You don't love her, and we both know it. I saw you wink at me in Alchemy 101. I'm ready to be your sex slave and I hope you are ready to be mine.
Sincerely,
Mary Mischcan
"Crickey.” A horrific image of the rotund cherub-faced Freshman in dominatrix garb flashed before Jordan's eyes. “Crickey,” he repeated.
"Mmnn. Well, Jordy, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here. Don't imagine you're ready to be Mary Mischcan's sex slave?"
He took off his wire-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think I may have blinked at her a few times after I got new glasses. Could barely see for days."
"I see. And the rest? You haven't been telling the undergraduates that we are an item?"
Jordan noticed a bit of flush sweep up to Drussy's cheeks. “Of course not! Why would I do that?"
"Oh, maybe because you want the boys to think you're hot stuff or something? You aren't seeing anyone that I know of?” She shuffled through some papers and Jordan caught her glance up quickly for his reaction.
What's this? Trying to humiliate me? “You know damned well I'm not seeing anyone, Drussy. When would I have time? I go from classes to dinner to papers to..."
"Oh, well, one night I came to your room...” Drussy sort
ed furiously through files. “And I thought I heard sounds. Sex sounds. You know, moaning, groaning, screaming, a woman crying out ‘yes, yes, yes!’ that sort of thing."
"Drussy!” Jordan shifted in his chair a bit to ease his growing discomfort. Her description, albeit somewhat clinical, was enough to make him rock hard in an instant.
"Well?” She tapped her pencil impatiently on the desk and looked him in the eyes. There it was, that feeling, drilling into his soul. Jordan let his eyes drop to her full red lips, then further down to her white breasts and back up to her huge green eyes.
"Screw you, Drussy. It was the Naughty Channel, and you know it. I'm thirty years old and quite entitled to a little adult escapism if I like. There's nothing in my contract..."
"Was it the episode with the big blonde and the two men with the biguns? Both of them at once outside near the pool?"
"Yeeess. That one.” Jordan thought he heard fruit calling his name again, but no, it was Drussy turning his brain into jelly, he thought. “Well, I'm not sure, now that I think of it. There's another one that might have sounded similar?” Please, humor me, you witch.
"Hmnn. Oh, maybe it was on Wednesday, what do they call it?"
"Scarves and Gloves night.” Jordan leaned back and put his glasses back on, regarding her carefully. He was burning up, sweat beading on his forehead. He pulled off his robe and gathered his long blonde hair in his hand. Drussy reached into her desk drawer, pulled out a rubber band and handed it to him. He looped his hair into a ponytail.
"Better?” She asked. He caught her darting glance to his chest and back up to his eyes. No, you're imagining that. Dork.
Jordan nodded. “I don't catch it on Wednesdays much. Coach wrestling on Wednesdays, and we usually grab a pizza pretty late and watch the Freshwater Fishing Report...” He trailed off, wondering exactly how pathetic that must sound to her.
"Oh, you should try to catch it if you can. I like Wednesdays the best. Last week, the guy with the really big one stripped down the woman with the huge ones, you know, the one with the long dark hair?” Jordan nodded numbly. “And he tied her to a bed like this,” she spread her arms and legs out, “and then he went to work on her, let me tell you. Woooeee! Yes sir, she was feeling it, all squirming and crying out. And then he took off his clothes and pushed his thing into her face and well, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked for all she was worth. When he let her free ... Well, you get the idea. But that's not the one you saw? Jordy? Are you okay?"
The Wizard of Time Page 3
