The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Sherman moaned while clutching a soggy, tear-stained piece of paper. Lark patted harder.

  “See this letter?” Sherman hefted the paper and shook it. “Ruined, I tell you. Thrown over for a Gouda, of all things.” The halfling sighed. “Now, I—Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth—am destined to go down in history as the man who stank at love.”

  ****

  As far as ideas went, this probably wasn’t one of Sarco’s best. Lark purposely dragged her feet in an attempt to delay arriving at her rooms. Why had she even told Sarco where they might find Leeky Shortz at this time of day? And what on Albrath would make the man think that Leeky the gnome could help Sherman?

  The sound of Sarco’s voice made her jump. “If we go any slower, Lark, we might as well be walking backwards. What’s wrong with you?”

  She scowled, but continued ambling toward the rooms she shared with her sister and Laycee. The door was only steps away. “Me? Nothing is wrong with me. I was just about to ask you the same thing. Why would you ask Leeky Shortz to help with anything, let alone with Sherman? Leeky is a very disturbed little man—gnome—whatever. You have no idea the things I’ve seen.”

  “You just don’t understand him, Wonderful, “Sarco sighed. “I admit, he’s a little rough around the edges, especially when it comes to women, but he has life experience that is invaluable. I’m sure if anyone can do it, Leeky is the man—gnome—whatever, to help Sherman regain his self-confidence. It’s worth a try. What do we have to lose?”

  Lark cringed as she hesitated with her hand on the doorknob, not wanting to open it. “That’s precisely what I’m worried about. I’ve seen Mr. Shortz at work. Poor Sherman doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Sarco took Lark gently by the hand and smiled. “Trust me in this, please.”

  Lark shrugged. After all, how much worse could it get? As she swung open the door, the word worse took on a whole new meaning.

  “What the tainted tonsils of a two-toed troll trollop are ya thinking, lass? Close the door before stuff seeps out inta the hallway. Now that would be a mess ta clean, wouldn’t it?”

  Whipped cream—piles of it—were everywhere. Lark wanted to close her eyes, but morbid curiosity prevented her. Leeky Shortz sat on the tiled floor with some kind of a game laid out between his outstretched legs. The game board looked to be fashioned from a pair of very big panties, of all things. He held a set of dice in his brown-gloved hand.

  The gnome was dressed in a cowboy hat, a pair of chaps, and spurs. The only other accessory to his outfit was a red candied cherry sticking precariously out of his belly button. Whipped cream circled his nipples, and what she hoped was chocolate sauce made a ring around his mouth.

  “I found the nuts and sprinkles, love.”

  Lark turned toward the sound of Laycee’s voice coming from the other room and groaned. If Leeky looked like this, what of her gnome governess?

  It only took a moment to find out. Miss Laycee Titwilder strode into the room, wearing a black-and-white cow costume complete with plastic udders and little pink cow ears perched on top of her blond wig. She had a ring of whipped cream around her mouth that suspiciously matched the one circling Leeky’s nipples, and she carried two bowls in her hands.

  The look on her face when she saw they were no longer alone was almost worth the trauma of seeing the two of them.

  “Oh, my, I didn’t realize we have company. Why didn’t ya tell me, Leeky? Aren’t ya supposed ta still be in class, Lark? It’s the middle of the morning. Oh, and I see ya brought along that nice Sir Sarco fellow. Let me just clean this mess up a bit.”

  She took the bowls and plopped them into the lap of the blow-up doll in the corner. The colorful sprinkles and nuts clashed with the dominatrix outfit poor Miss Bunny had been dressed in today. She looked almost as surprised as Lark felt right now.

  Lark gasped as she realized what Laycee meant to do. “No, it’s all right, really. Sarco just wanted to ask Leeky a question. I can see we’re intruding though, so we’ll come back later.” She yanked at Sarco.

  Laycee laughed, “Nonsense, ya aren’t intruding a bit. Are they, Leeky? I’ll just have Tug help me clean this mess, and we can have tea and chat.”

  Lark winced as Laycee grabbed Tug. The only thing that made this whole situation tolerable was the look on Sarco’s face as the female gnome lifted the skirt of the frilly little maid costume she had Tug dressed in, and used the hose where his cock should have been to suck up the whipped cream that was all over the floor, while quickly chanting a spell. Then, she sprayed the white stuff down the drain hole she’d just magicaly created.

  “Multi-purpose doll,” Leeky shouted above the noise of the hose. “Ain’t technology wonderful? So, what did ya want ta see me about, Sarco?”

  Lark looked at Sarco out of the corner of her eye and almost felt sorry for the man. Almost. She jabbed him in the ribs.

  He jumped and glared at her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he hissed.

  Lark grinned. “I tried to, remember? You wouldn’t listen.”

  Sarco sighed and his hand shook as he ran it through his hair. “Well, next time kick me or something, okay?”

  Lark nodded. She watched him look at the expectantly waiting Leeky, then straighten his shoulders, and clear his throat.

  “Umm…yes, I wanted to ask a favor of you, Leeky.”

  His voice trailed off as his gaze followed Laycee in her cow costume, its long tail wagging behind her and Tug, the maid, under one arm while she held onto the doll’s cock hose with the other. Whipped cream spurted out the end of the long, flesh-colored hose. It really was quite hysterical, Lark decided, but there was another matter more pressing at the moment to be dealt with.

  Lark jabbed Sarco once more and spitefully enjoyed watching him shiver and take a deep breath before finally looking directly at Leeky. Perhaps next time, Sarco will listen to me.

  “One of my students just got thrown over by his girlfriend back home and is distraught. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take him under your wing and help him get back some of his self-confidence? I’d really appreciate it. Although you don’t need to show him, umm, everything you know.”

  Leeky Shortz cackled, “Why, I’d be more than happy ta help ya student. It’s been a mighty long time since I had someone ta impart my vast knowledge ta. Might be entertaining. Ya send the lad ta see me tomorrow. Now have a seat and play a round with us. It’s my turn.”

  Leeky rolled the dice and got double sixes. “Woot!” he yelled as he grinned at Laycee. “Ya know what that means.”

  Laycee sat Tug down and walked over to the panty play board, placed her hands on her hips, and scowled at Leeky.

  “Again? Ya landed on the Ride ‘Em Cowboy square again? That’s not fair. All I ever get is Use plenty of whipped cream, or Give your partner a massage without using your hands, or Time for toys. Why don’t I ever get Ride ‘Em Cowboy? Are ya using loaded dice again, Leeky Shortz?”

  The male gnome looked positively innocent as he placed a hand over his heart, smearing the whipped cream circling his nipples. “Laycee, ya wound me, lass. When it comes ta games of love, would I ever cheat ya?”

  “I suppose not,” she sighed. “Ya sure seem ta be having extraordinarily good luck today, though.” She got down on all fours, facing away from Leeky.

  Reaching behind her, she flipped open the button-up closure where the cow tail had been, exposing her saggy, pasty-white bottom. “Okay, Ride ‘Em Cowboy…again.”

  Leeky smacked his hands together and giggled with glee.

  This time when Lark tugged on Sarco’s arm, he followed her out the door immediately.

  Chapter Ten

  If ever a man needed to be kicked in the shins for the smug, self-satisfied smile gracing his face this morning, it was Sarco Sunwalker. Only two weeks remained before both of their families were due to descend upon the Academy and the scheduled Yulemass celebrations, and what was he doing?

  Not prepari
ng for their relatives’ arrival.

  Not trying to avoid marrying Aryanna.

  Not even concentrating on his class.

  No, Sarco Sunwalker was spending his time helping Leeky turn poor Sherman into even more of a freak then he’d been before.

  It wasn’t just Sarco and Leeky either. They had recruited help in the form of Sarco’s poor, unsuspecting friend, Sir Uthiel Dragonheart, who had arrived only two days earlier to visit his wife Briar for the holidays.

  Men! What was it about a man that turned his brain to mush and brought out the naughty little boy when faced with what he perceived to be a challenge? As each new attempt at setting the halfling up with various women over the last few weeks had failed, Sarco and Leeky had become more and more desperate. They were determined, with the added help of Uthiel, to turn Sherman into a debonair ladies’ man. Lark sighed.

  “What the blistered bunions on the feet of a Mountain of Geiger billy goat were ya thinking with that ‘do, lad? Ya need more hair cream,” Leeky grumbled.

  Lark simply shook her head as she stood quietly in Sarco’s office, watching the proceedings.

  “I don’t know, Leeky,” Sarco interjected. “Any more and he’s going to look like his head is as plastic as Tug’s.”

  The gnome scoffed as he slipped off his light-purple, eyebrow-plucking gloves and replaced them with his bright-chartreuse, hair-combing ones.

  Uthiel poked Sarco in the ribs. “I see our little friend still has his glove fetish.”

  The ruggedly handsome human pointed in the direction of the gnome, and Lark let the corners of her mouth tilt up in a small smile.

  Leeky, however, didn’t seem to be finding it amusing. He scowled. “It’s not a fetish. I’m just particular what touches me where. A rogue can never be ta careful. These hands are irreplaceable, ya know.”

  The gnome surveyed the halfling. “It’s better ta look plastic than it is ta have the whole mess sticking up every which way. If’n he’s gonna be attracting the opposite sex, his hair has ta be tidy. Girls like that sorta thing. Being able ta lick your eyebrows doesn’t hurt either.”

  Lark choked, and the ensuing coughing fit had her eyes watering. The men didn’t even notice, though, as Leeky switched the topic of conversation back to Sherman.

  “We’ve put him in new duds. We’ve trimmed his toenails, fixed his glasses, even shaved the hair off the tops of his feet. It’s the little touches that matter the most.”

  Sherman shuffled from foot to foot. “I don’t know, Mr. Shortz. I really appreciate you trying to help me out and all, but I’ve never been much of a looker. I once flunked a grooming class.”

  “Nonsense,” Leeky declared. “All ya need is confidence, lad. Repeat after me. I am a sexy man.”

  The halfling giggled nervously. “I am a sexy man.”

  “All women secretly want me.”

  Uthiel laughed out loud while Sarco simply rolled his eyes. Lark snickered.

  “All women secretly want me,” Sherman mumbled almost inaudibly.

  Leeky raised himself to his full three-and-a-half-foot height. “Ya’ve gotta believe in ya self or nobody else is gonna believe in ya. Now say it with meaning this time, lad. I am a sexy man, all women secretly want me. I am the Shermanator.”

  The halfling’s eyes lit. “Oh, I like that, Mr. Shortz. I am the Shermanator. Kinda catchy. Rolls right off the tongue. Don’t you think? Oh, yes, the ladies won’t be able to resist a man who calls himself the Shermanator. I am a sexy man. All women secretly want me. I am the Shermanator.

  Lark threw up her hands and walked away.

  ****

  “No, I won’t do it. You simply must find another way.”

  Cyrrick kissed Aryanna’s forehead as he held her in his arms and sighed. “I wish there was some other way to handle it, Ary. If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears.”

  “Ear comments coming from a high-elf aren’t funny.” Her voice broke with emotion. “I can’t do it, Cyrrick. I can’t hurt her that way. Who would’ve thought the stupid fine print on a thousand-year-old-quest would be so important? If something is that vital, it should be in big bold letters, not tiny little words you can hardly even see.”

  He tucked Aryanna under his arm, close to his heart and smiled sadly into the dimness of the room. “Unfortunately, my love, the fine print is always important. We must deal with this problem. Lark can’t be allowed to help Sarco in any way with the quest. The wording is very specific, and, trust me when I say I went over it thoroughly. The only way I can see to prevent her interference is to find a way to keep them separated after the ceremony. If she helps him, even with her mind control, he can’t choose her. The council will know. I’ve already set into motion the only thing I’m sure will put a damper on his amour for a little while anyway. The rest, my sweet princess, sadly, is up to you.”

  She shivered against his side, and he held her tighter.

  “You don’t know what she’s like when she’s hurt, Cyrrick. Things…happen. Lark has had so much pain in her life, it isn’t fair. She’s so in love with Sarco, and it’s because of our manipulation. Now we have to tear apart what we set in motion? Why can’t we just sit them both down and explain it? They’ll listen. They’ll understand. I know they will.”

  The weight of so many people’s future happiness was like a heavy stone on Cyrrick’s chest.

  “I wish we could, Ary, I truly do. Are you willing to take the chance Lark will be able to resist helping Sarco, even if she perceives him to be in danger? You yourself didn’t expect the mental bond that formed between them to be so strong. What did you call it again?”

  “Spirit Union, that’s what it’s called. It’s so rare, it’s almost never heard of anymore. So why this time?” she groaned. “Why them? It’s even stronger than marriage vows. Only death can break it, and then only temporarily, I’ve been told. Lark hasn’t realized what she’s experiencing yet. Let’s hope she doesn’t figure it out until this is all over with. I wouldn’t want to be stuck outdoors if and when she comes to that particular realization after we rip her entire world apart.”

  Cyrrick hugged Aryanna close. “So you’ll do it? Years from now we’ll sit around and laugh about this, you’ll see.”

  The wetness of her tears touched his skin.

  “I doubt I’ll ever find anything about this situation funny, no matter how much time has passed. I suppose I don’t have a choice, though, do I? If I don’t, I may very well end up married to your brother, whose mind and heart will forever be bound to my sister. I don’t have to like it, though, and I don’t have to be happy about it, and you, my dear diplomat, are just going to have to put up with me that way, for a long time.”

  Cyrrick kissed the lips of the woman who possessed his soul. “It’s my sincere wish to put up with you for the remainder of my days, my love.”

  ****

  It had been a long day, and Lark was glad it was almost over. After her last class, she had come back to Sarco’s office to go over tomorrow’s schedule and, of course, to see the man himself. Just watching his long, strong fingers writing out the next morning’s class plan was a pleasure. Her body warmed at the memory of those same fingers upon her skin, and her senses tingled with desire.

  For a moment guilt tugged at her conscience. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t really hers. He would never be.

  Lark shook her head. Ary didn’t even want him, and she so desperately did. Was it really so very wrong to take what she could while she could?

  Every inch of Sarco Sunwalker was perfection and then some. From the tips of his jet-black hair, to his crisply pointed ears, to his sensual, full lips, his strong chin, his broad chest, and his oh-so-talented hands, he was everything her heart had ever desired. And that wasn’t even taking in consideration what lay just south of his perfectly indented belly button. God Draka help her, she wanted him with a passion that knew no bounds.

  “I hope I’m who you’re thinking about, Wonderful. You’re positively glowing.” />
  Heat crept up her neck, and still Lark lifted her gaze to meet his without hesitation. “I was just remembering the way your hands feel on my body and wishing they were there right now.”

  Sarco held out a hand. “Come to me, then.”

  She shouldn’t. Even if Ary didn’t want him, this was wrong. One of Grandmother Ava’s sayings came to mind. If you have to do something in secret, child, then it’s probably not what you should be doing.

  Lark stubbornly ignored the voice in her head and teasingly lifted the hem of her tunic over her head and tossed it carelessly on the floor. She tamped down the last vestiges of her guilt as she slowly sauntered forward until she stood directly before him. She would be strong tomorrow, she silently promised. She would end the relationship then. Really, she would. But not today. She wasn’t strong enough today.

  Holding out a hand for help, she giggled as she climbed up, straddled his thighs, and settled herself firmly on his lap.

  With a wink and a pucker, Lark touched her lips to his. He was hot, familiar, safe, secure, and oh, so sexy. It was like coming home to a welcoming fire on a chilly day and finding a brightly wrapped present just waiting to be opened. Sarco was home, her haven, her holiday, and everything else all rolled up into one.

  “I need you now, Wonderful. I can’t wait another moment to be inside you.” He tugged his robe up past his hips and freed his cock. Lifting her along the hard planes of his body, he slid her down until she could feel the head of his large, hard cock probing the opening of her pussy.

  Lark sighed as he entered her and slid his cock in so deep, it touched her womb. She wrapped her arms around his neck, arched her back, and rode.

  The door banged open with a resounding thud that shook the entire room.

  Sarco jumped so quickly Lark landed on the floor in front of him in a heap. “Mother! Father!” He quickly slipped his robe back down over his still-rock-hard cock. “I wasn’t expecting you until next week at the earliest.”

  Sarco stepped over and in front of Lark, somewhat blocking her from his parents’ view.