When the first wave of electrifying spasms shook her, she cried out. A second later, the feel of hot seed flowing and hard flesh convulsing deep within told her Sarco had achieved his pinnacle of pleasure also. The world was perfect, and she was where she belonged.
Without warning, tears fell. Hot and salty, they coursed silently down her cheeks. With a sob wrenched deep from her soul, Lark forced herself to open her eyes and look at Sarco, the man she loved with every fiber of her being. How could the greatest joy and pleasure she had ever experienced and the greatest sorrow and pain she would ever have to live with be one and the same?
“What’s wrong, Wonderful? Please tell me.”
The look of concern on Sarco’s face brought out the protectiveness in her. She didn’t want him to know pain, especially her own. She wouldn’t lie to him again, but she knew she didn’t have to tell him the whole truth either. “That was the most amazing lovemaking I’ve ever experienced. It was perfect. You were perfect. Promise me, Sarco, no matter how old we grow or how far away we may be from one another, you’ll never forget this day.”
Sarco smiled and was about to respond when a completely different sound caught both of their attentions.
“What the blue-painted farts of a backwards-walking troll were ya thinking, lass? Ya should’ve known better than ta put that untrustworthy scoundrel, Tug, anywhere near my sweet little Miss Bunny. Now look what’s happened. He’s trying ta run off with her.”
Sarco and Lark scampered to their feet, grabbed their clothing, and looked toward the sound of Leeky’s winded voice and the waves crashing onto the beach.
A high-pitched screech rent the air. “Sweet little Miss Bunny? It’s that harlot’s fault in the first place, I tell ya! I’ve seen the way she looks at my poor innocent Tug when ya’re not watching. Just wait ‘til I get my hands on ya evil Miss Bunny, and I’ll show ya what a blue-painted fart really looks like.”
About ten feet offshore, something pink bobbed up and down in the water with a bright green and red stripped umbrella sticking out of it. Sarco and Lark shaded their eyes from the glare of the sun and looked harder. There was Tug, stretched out on his back with an umbrella sticking up where any remotely normal male—who wasn’t plastic—would’ve had a cock, and Miss Bunny appeared to be straddling him. The pair were completely naked, and Lark could swear they were smiling even bigger than usual.
The sight on the beach was more disturbing than the one in the water. There stood the two naked-as-the-day-they-were-born, sunburned gnomes with sand-covered asses and angry faces, yelling and pointing at each other and the blow-up dolls.
Sarco cleared his throat. “I suppose we should go help them recover their, umm, dolls before they get themselves drowned or kill each other.”
Lark nodded and giggled. “It would be the honorable thing to do.”
They looked at each other and could contain their mirth no longer. Together they fell to the sand in a tangle of arm and legs as they burst into a fit of laughter.
Sarco encircled Lark within his arms. “I have another idea, Wonderful. Instead of helping gnomes fish dolls out of the ocean, let’s take a quick trip to my home. It’s still early afternoon. We can take the portal and easily be back before Seychelle’s dinner party tonight. Landis is an amazing place, and I really need to speak with Uncle Arizon before the Yulemass is upon us and it’s too late. If anyone knows of a way to get around the dictates of the prophecy, it would be the man who spoke the words in the first place.”
****
Landis was so much more than she could’ve imagined. Lark marveled at the view all around and below them. They were standing just outside the portal, high up on the side of a mountain, and the unimpeded panorama was breathtaking.
A cascading, blue waterfall split the mountain in half, thundering into a sparkling, rushing river running through a lush, green valley. The air smelled of jasmine and was filled with the lilting songs of birds. The lights of homes and businesses dotted the mountainside, and from her high perch, Lark could see movement within many of them.
An intricate roadway of swinging bridges linked everything together, and a cobblestone path led ever downward toward a grand-looking castle with high towers, many balconies, and cultured gardens.
“Oh, Sarco, what a beautiful, magical place your homeland is.”
The feel of Sarco’s arms tightening about her and the smile he sent her way had Lark’s heart soaring. “I’m glad you like my home, Wonderful. It’s my fondest wish that someday it’ll be your home also.”
The warmth of his hand in hers as he led her down the path brought a sense of oneness. No matter what his uncle might say this day, no matter what the future may hold, her heart would now and forever belong to Sarco Sunwalker. No prophecy could ever change that.
They stopped just inside a courtyard, and Sarco led Lark to a small enclosed garden, complete with a tall, bubbling fountain in the very center. Roses of every color of the rainbow bloomed in well-kept beds and the air was filled with their fragrance. A feeling of contentment settled over Lark.
“Would you mind waiting for me here, Wonderful? Next time, I’ll introduce you to Uncle Arizon, I promise. For today, though, I think I should speak to him privately. I shouldn’t be long.”
Lark smiled and nodded as she took a seat on a nearby bench. “Take all the time you need. I could stay here forever.”
****
“Why does it have to be me? Why does it have to be now? Why does it have to be Aryanna who I marry? Tell me again, make me understand, Uncle.” Sarco ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Even after a full turning of the hourglass, he still didn’t know any more than when he’d first arrived.
He paced back and forth before his great-uncle, the High-Elf Arizon Windstrider, who stood silently staring off into space as if he were no longer aware of his nephew’s presence.
Just when Sarco’s irritation level attained its peak, Arizon spoke. “I didn’t realize the ramifications of the prophecy at first. I had no idea the impact it would have. It stopped a war, you know? Right then and there, they laid down their weapons—elves, barbarian, and humans alike. Those words came directly from God Draka’s mouth himself, even though it was I who uttered them. Words are powerful things, nephew. Once spoken, they can never be taken back.”
Arizon hung his head, as grains of sand silently filtered through the hourglass.
Finally, the old man looked up and stared at Sarco with an unfaltering gaze. “Why does it have to be you, you ask? That’s simple enough to answer but probably not what you’ll wish to hear. It can only be you, Sarco. The prophecy clearly states the firstborn heir of the elves must marry a princess of barbarian-human descent. Even if you wanted to abdicate your Lordship for this woman you’ve been ranting on about for the last turn of the hourglass, your brother could not take your place. He can never be firstborn. That is, of course, unless your life comes to an untimely end. Only upon your death can your bother step into your rightful role.”
Sarco sighed, and even the very beating of his heart became painful.
Arizon Windstrider slowly made his way to a bench and sat. His long white beard hung nearly to the ground and the consequences of living almost nine hundred years showed on his weathered face. “Why does it have to be now, you wonder? Because the time is upon us and the stars are aligned. The three moons of Albrath will soon all be in full phase for the first time in centuries. Who knows when that will happen again?”
Sarco ran his fingers through his hair. “But, but…”
High-Elf Wizard Arizon Windstrider held up a hand. “What has been set in motion will stay in motion until it connects with an unmovable object. That is a universal law, not mine, and so is unchangeable by man or magic. The fable of Castle Kuropkat was solved, and with your help, I might add. That single incident set into motion the need for the second part of the prophecy to be fulfilled by the rotation of the next triple full-moon phase.”
“But why does it have
to be Aryanna I marry? She isn’t the only barbarian-human princess,” Sarco bellowed.
It was as if Arizon hadn’t even heard him.
“Peace came to Albrath with the first part of the prophecy being satisfied, and continued peace depends on the second part being seen to its conclusion in a timely manner.”
Arizon closed his eyes and was silent for long moments. Sarco was afraid the old man had fallen asleep until, with a deep gasping breath, the wizard continued. “Why does it have to be Princess Aryanna you marry? For no other reason than she is who her parents have chosen. It’s their right by Barbarian law to choose and you must not go against their wishes. Keep in mind what is truly important here, Sarco, and that is the fulfillment of the prophecy and maintaining peace throughout the land. Your people are counting on you. Don’t worry so about the wife part. Take it from me, I’ve lived a very long time, and after awhile, one woman is much like any another.”
Sarco shuddered.
Arizon looked thoughtful a moment. “You’ve never known war, nephew, and I hope you never do. It’s an ugly, cruel thing. Women wailing for their lost husbands. Children weeping for their dead fathers. The last mournful cries of a dying dragon. Blood and pain, atrocities beyond your imagination. It’s always amazed me what man is capable of doing to man. When God Draka came to me in that long-ago dream and gave me the prophecy to speak, he also gave me a warning. The races must be joined. If the prophecy is not fulfilled, a war such as no man’s eyes have ever seen will come to pass. The streets will run red with the blood of men and dragon alike ‘til the sins of their ancestors are washed away from the land.”
Sarco hung his head.
“From the time you were old enough to hear and comprehend our ways, you’ve been told this day might come. You’ve always known you’re the heir and upon your shoulders the fulfillment of the prophecy might come to rest. Don’t allow doubts of yourself or frivolous feelings for a female to stand in the way of what you know must be done. It’s your duty, Sarco, your burden to bear, and the continued well-being of your people depends upon it. Have I made myself clear enough this time, nephew? Have you any more questions? Did I succeed in helping you understand?”
Sarco nodded. “I have no further questions, Uncle. I’ll do what I must. My duty is clear. You’ve more than succeeded in your explanation. I now completely understand.”
He hung his head in defeat.
****
“Mmm…you smell more tempting than warm ambrosia, Ary, my sweet, and I’m ready for a snack before this boring dinner party. How about if we slip away somewhere for a quick little nibble while we have the time?”
A satin-clad slipper stomped on his foot, and Cyrrick jumped backwards. “What was that for?”
Princess Aryanna’s snapping violet eyes glared holes right through him and he wished he hadn’t asked.
“What was that for? What was that for!” she hissed. “Am I really that easy to forget? Where were you all morning while I was left waiting alone in your room? After all, it was you who set up the rendezvous with me, remember? Then, today you simply forget I exist? Or were all those sweet words and promises you were whispering in my ear yesterday a figment of my overactive imagination?”
Cyrrick looked around Headmistress Seychelle’s office-now-banquet-room to make sure they weren’t causing a scene. Luckily, they were the first guests to arrive and the only other people milling about were those still doing setup. He gave a sigh of relief. The last thing any of them needed at this point was to be embroiled in a scandal. The culmination of all their preparations was too close for stupid mistakes now.
He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep, calming breath. “I take it you didn’t get my message then? I left you a note, Ary. I personally watched your gnome governess tuck it into one of the pockets of that silly doll’s pants. You know, the one she’s always carrying around with her? And she swore she would give it to you the moment she saw you today.”
Aryanna looked like a petulant little child playing dress-up, and Cyrrick had to restrain the smile he almost let show, knowing the sight of it would simply make her angrier.
“But I haven’t seen Laycee today, or even Lark for that matter. The whole world has deserted me.”
Instead of grinning, Cyrrick took her gently by the arm and led her into the shadows of the room, away from curious eyes. He wrapped his arms loosely around her middle, with her back snuggly warm against his chest. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he finally gave in to his urge to smile.
She was beyond beautiful tonight. Her long, sun-kissed curls hung about her shoulders like a shawl spun of the finest gold. They accented perfectly her rose-tinted cheeks and cotton-candy-pink kissable lips. Her form-fitting gown of deep-red velvet clung to every luscious curve like a caress. For a moment, Cyrrick had trouble remembering what they had been discussing.
“Ahh, Ary, how I do love your flare for the dramatic. No one has deserted you, my love. I’m not sure where Laycee and Lark disappeared to, but as for myself, I was roped into showing my parents around the Academy and couldn’t slip away. Sarco was supposed to do that duty himself, but he seems to have disappeared on us as well. And since wherever Sarco is, you’ll probably find Lark, we should be happy instead of grumpy about the situation. Don’t you think?”
Cyrrick felt Aryanna’s sigh as if it were his own.
“I suppose you’re right. It’s just the closer it gets to the ceremony, the more nervous I’m getting. So much is riding on the outcome. I could end up married to your brother instead of you and having my baby sister despise me for the rest of my life if things don’t go as planned.”
Aryanna paused and shuddered. A mournful sob racked her delicate frame. Cyrrick hugged her closer.
“She cried half the night, you know. Lark, that is. I have no idea what happened yesterday, but it must have been very traumatic and it somehow involved Sarco and your parents because I heard her whisper their names over and over between sobs. This has to end soon, Cyrrick. I simply can’t take it much longer.”
Aryanna turned in Cyrrick’s arms and laid her cheek against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, either, and I’m sure I have dark smudges under my eyes and look simply dreadful. Lark blames me for this mess, even if subconsciously, I know she does. And she’s in her right to do so. It’s my fault we’re all in this situation. If I hadn’t gone and allowed myself to fall in love with you, life would’ve been so much simpler. But I did, and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world now.”
Aryanna shuddered again, and Cyrrick did his best to envelope her in his warmth.
“Do you know what she did last night? She made it rain in my room. Just in my room, directly over my bed, and nowhere else. I don’t think Lark was even aware of it. The harder she cried, the more it rained. I had to sleep in the hallway on a settee all crunched up into a tight little ball. It was horribly uncomfortable, and I kept waiting for lightning to strike me dead. I’d probably deserve it if it had.”
Her tears fell faster and faster. He held her tightly and let her continue to vent.
“And your parents, my future in-laws, what are they going to think about me if they ever find out our role in all this? I’m sure they’re wonderful people, Cyrrick. I’d hate to see disapproval or disappointment on their faces every time they look my way…for what?…the next hundred years or so? Oh, wait. High-elves live much longer than humans or barbarians. Make that only-God-Draka-knows-how-long, and probably even well into the afterlife.”
Cyrrick rocked her slowly back and worth as if she were a small child. All the while trying to organize his thoughts before he spoke. “Let’s try and take this one day at a time, shall we, Ary? Tonight, let’s just get through dinner then tomorrow we’ll worry about Lark, Sarco, my parents, and the next hundred years or so. Don’t even think of Lord Tylindius and Lady Jillian Sunwalker as your in-laws right now. Tonight they’re
just two ordinary people you’re socializing with at a dinner party.”
“You, my pretty princess, are an expert at socializing.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You know how to win people over with your charm and that beautiful smile of yours. Those qualities are bonus reasons you’ll make the perfect diplomat’s wife. When this is all said and done, everyone will realize just how perfect and giving you truly are.”
Cyrrick tweaked her nose playfully and planted a quick kiss on the tip of it. “My parents will love you, Ary. Not quite as much as I do, but they’ll love you. Trust me, you’ll see. This will all be resolved soon, and, in the end, everything will work out as it’s meant to be. I believe that with all my heart. I have to. Anything less is unacceptable.”
She nodded against his chest, but he could feel her reservations and fears as strongly as if they were tangible. He wanted desperately to alleviate those fears, to drive them away, to see her carefree smile once more. Her next words reminded him that her fears were his also and had a very real basis.
“Right now it feels like nothing will ever be resolved, and I have no choice but to think of Lord Tylindius and Lady Jillian as my future in-laws, Cyrrick. It may not yet be decided which Sunwalker son I’m going to end up married to when this disaster is all said and done, but there’s no doubt whatsoever who my in-laws are going to be.”
Ary’s voice broke, and her tears fell once more.
Cyrrick did what was in his power to do. He lifted her face to his own and kissed her soundly—not caring who in Albrath might see.
Chapter Thirteen
If ever a man was born to be a lord, Sarco Sunwalker was that man. He was resplendent tonight in his royal-purple robes and winning smile. Only his eyes held a hint of telltale sadness when he glanced her way. Lark wished with all her heart she could kiss away his worries. She knew that wasn’t possible, though. It wasn’t her place or right.
The Academy Volume One Page 43
