The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Aryanna and King Alfred glared at each other. “I’ll not marry a man—any man—I don’t love. No matter what you or Mother decree.”

  The king’s face contorted with rage. “Are you so selfish as to wish war on your people then, daughter? Because, that’s precisely what will happen if the prophecy isn’t fulfilled. Don’t you think it’s a little late to be bringing up all this love nonsense? Love is a fleeting thing, child, a dynasty is forever. And even if you find some way around the human rule and our dictates, just who do you suggest marries the wizard in your place so the prophecy can be fulfilled and war avoided, one of the twins?”

  “Oh no, not us father,” Ally piped up. “As long as we are talking wishes, we wish to marry Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth. You know, the amazing halfling wizard whom Sarco chose to accompany him.”

  Lark was positive her father was going to explode with anger and braced herself for it. He opened and closed his mouth three times before any sound came out again. “Has this entire family lost its mind? One daughter who wants to marry a diplomat instead of becoming a lady, and two others who want to marry the same…same man. And not even a barbarian man, but a squat little cheese-smelling halfling. Next thing you know, you’ll be saying marry Lark off to the heir of the elves and make her his lady. Wouldn’t that just make your poor, dear mother have a fit she’d probably never recover from?”

  Though her voice came out in no more than a squeak, her words were clear as Lark faced her father. “I do wish to marry him. I love Sarco more than life itself.”

  Her father sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. It was long moments before he looked up. Weariness lined his face as he held out his hands toward his daughters, palms up. “What do you want of me? I am but a man who tries to do his best for his family and his people. I have always done what is right and just and honorable. I would give you all there is in Albrath if it were in my power to do so. It isn’t. What you’re asking is simply impossible. Your mother’s heart is set on this match just the way it stands. I can’t go against her wishes. All of you know what she’s like if she doesn’t get her way. Who do you think I am that I can simply flaunt tradition and rules and decrees as if they do not matter?”

  With resignation and soul-deep sadness, Lark stood. Though she knew it was probably a really big mistake, she couldn’t force herself to remain quiet and simply walk away as she had so many times before. She was no longer the silent, obedient daughter she once was. She had changed. Sarco’s love had changed her.

  “What a fool I’ve been, Father. All my life I thought you were the king and it was you who upheld the traditions, made the rules, and spoke the decrees. I guess I was mistaken.”

  Without another word, Lark walked out, the girls on her heels.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  If ever a man regretted even thinking the word dragon this morning, Sarco Sunwalker was that man. The sun was already high somewhere in the cloud-filled sky, and still the small group of questers stood anxiously waiting in the courtyard to take their leave of this place. The hope of an early start was now a long past aspiration.

  With the very first whisper of the possibility of encountering dragons during the quest today, the head of the royal guard had sent a missive back through the portal to the king and queen and, until an answer arrived, they were stuck here. Not only stuck, but under heavy guard so as to not slip away.

  Sarco sighed. Could he blame the rulers of the kingdom for being concerned about Crown Prince Adan’s safety? Certainly not. But that didn’t make it any easier, knowing that unless they got under way soon, it would be nightfall by the time they arrived at the mountains high above Castle Kuropkat. And the combination of nightfall and dragon was a volatile concoction at best.

  Dragons were known throughout the land to be the source of magic. Though they were helpful to humans and quite peaceful in the light of day, at night their temperament was another story all together. Their primal instincts were heightened, and they were known to become testy and willful with the setting of the sun. Stories had been written concerning nocturnal dragon activity. It was the stuff with which elfin adults frightened their children into obedience.

  Even though he’d personally met two dragons when he’d helped Uthiel fulfill the fable of Castle Kuropkat the previous year—and lived to tell about it—the long ago childhood rhyme still came back to haunt him.

  “Watch when ye wander, little children, and where.

  Be careful. Don’t disturb a dragon in its lair,

  Be it high on a mountain or deep in the wood.

  Walk softly, tread lightly, and always be good,

  For dragons read hearts, be they obedient or not.

  In the darkest of night, the naughty will be sought.

  For though dragons by morning can be quite gay,

  And afternoon dragons may be found in play,

  When the sun doth set and dusk draws near,

  If you’ve misbehaved, you’ll have reason to fear.

  For by darkness of night, wings will take flight

  And seek out the naughty to devour by next light.”

  A chill ran down his spine and Sarco shook it off. This wasn’t the time for childish fairytales. It was a time for action. Glancing at Cyrrick, he gestured. “While we’re waiting on Adan, Cyrrick, tell us about the stone we seek today.”

  His brother’s eyes suddenly lit with an interest Sarco hadn’t seen in their depths for quite some time. Cyrrick slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out his small notebook. Flipping it open, he made eye contact with Sarco, then Uthiel, Leeky, and Sherman.

  A grin tugged at the corners of Sarco’s mouth. After the last couple of days of Cyrrick’s moodiness, it was good to see him excited about something.

  Cyrrick glanced between his notebook and the group of men. “After you’ve collected the Maiden’s Desire bloom, you must next obtain a Spirit Alexandrite. It’s said, both the Alexandrite and Opal needed to form a Spirit Alexandrite can be found in the dragon caves above Castle Kuropkat. One of the entries I discovered in my research states, ‘Spirit Alexandrite, a gem forged by fire but not consumed. Can be held in the hand, a pledge from a groom.’ The Geological Text of Minerals and Precious Gems says that Spirit Alexandrite is formed when the intense fire of dragon’s breath comes in direct contact with the rare metal Alexandrite and the gemstone Opal, forever fusing them into a single stone.”

  Sarco nodded. “So all we need do is find a dragon cave and chisel off a hunk of rock. Sounds easy.”

  Cyrrick didn’t look as confident as Sarco felt. “I wish it were that easy, brother. The problem comes in finding a dragon willing to cooperate with us. They don’t normally breathe that intense a fire in their own caves unless seriously provoked, and provoking one can prove to be an extremely dangerous endeavor. So it’ll be a challenge. After all, it’s not as if we can simply walk up to a full-grown dragon and ask him politely to melt some rock for us.”

  Uthiel chuckled, and at first Sarco didn’t realize why, then understanding dawned. Carnelian.

  “Of course we can,” Uthiel said. “Though it’ll be a her, not a him. Male dragons are extremely rare.”

  Sarco smiled at the confused look on his brother’s face, already knowing what Uthiel would say next.

  “I know a dragon who’ll be more than glad to help us. She’s a friend of mine, and the biggest, blood-red-scaled dragon I’ve ever seen. Carnelian’s her name. She lives above my castle in those same caves you spoke of, Cyrrick, with her dragling, Obsidian, who is one of those very rare male dragons. When we get close, I’ll contact her. We have a mental bond, she and I.”

  Sherman hopped up and down while waving his hand, his eyes as big as the second full moon of Albrath had been last night.

  Sarco sighed. “You don’t have to do that, Sherman, remember? This isn’t class. Just say what you have to say.”

  The halfling puffed out his chest. “I took a class on dragons once. That, of course, was before I saw
one up close in real life. It was almost as big as our home. It tried to get our cheese. I’ve been told dragons really like cheese. Scared it off all by myself. Took one of the skewers we use for kabobs and poked it right in the foot, and it flew away. I sure wish Prince Adan could’ve seen that. He wouldn’t mind his sisters spending time with me then, I bet.”

  Leeky Shortz harumphed, “What the slimy green belly of a Landis bullfrog jumping over the head of a lopsided troll do ya take us for, lad? Ya know for a fact ya’ve never seen a dragon, let alone run one off. If ya did, ya’d piss yaself right then and there, for sure. There’d be no shame in it either. Dragons can be fierce creatures. They scare much bigger men than ye. And don’t ya be worrying about Adan seeing ya as a coward. If that barbarian does get ta go along with us, I’ll talk ya up ta him and make sure he doesn’t know how afraid ya truly are.”

  Sherman stretched to his full five feet and one inch and glared down at Leeky. “I have too seen a dragon, I tell you, and they do like cheese. When we find one, I’ll prove it to you. And I’m not afraid of any ole dragon. I’ll show you, I’ll show all of you.”

  The ground beneath their feet rumbled as Prince Adan Hammerstrike, along with a full contingent of fifteen soldiers, marched into the courtyard. The discussion of dragons was forgotten as Sarco waited for the decision.

  The barbarian prince looked almost sheepish when he finally made eye contact with Sarco. He cleared his throat, then did it again, trying to delay what he obviously had no choice but to say. “I’m not a coward. I want you to know that, Sarco Sunwalker. There has never been and will never be a dragon I’m afraid to face one on one. I’m not a child who needs protecting. I can take care of myself in any situation. I am, however, Prince of Alaria, and as such, am required by my parents, the king and queen, to bring these men along to ensure my safety. It isn’t my choice, but it is my duty.”

  Sarco sighed with relief. Duty, he understood. “I don’t care if you bring the whole city with you as long as we can get on our way.”

  The tenseness around Adan’s mouth eased. “Well, thankfully, we don’t have to take the whole city, only these fifteen. Shall we ride, then?”

  Leeky twiddled his thumbs as he glanced at the barbarian. “Where the frost-bitten pecker on a short-legged billy goat do ya think ya’re going? Isn’t there someone ya just might be forgetting, lad?”

  Adan bent low from his horse and collected the plastic doll from Leeky. He placed Miss Bunny securely in front of himself on the saddle and wrapped an arm protectively about her middle. “What the whatever on the whenever by the wherever are ya talking about, gnome? I’d never forget our favorite girl. Unlike you, though, I fill out my saddle. I was simply scooting back to make a little room so Miss Bunny would be comfortable. After all, it’s the princely thing to do.” He winked.

  Leeky suddenly stopped. “On second thought, we better leave Miss Bunny here until we come back for the flower. Where we’re going there’s gonna be dragon’s-breath fire flying everywhere, and as we learned last year, fire and plastic don’t mix well. I don’t know what the short and curlies betwixt the legs of a goat-humpin’, barefoot-stompin’ ogre I’ll do without her, though, while we’re gone.”

  Adan passed Miss Bunny down to one of his men. “Place the lass in my royal suite and guard her as if you were guarding me.” He winked at Leeky. “Treat her like a queen.”

  ****

  “Nothing.”

  Despair filled Lark with a darkness to rival the night. Even the two full moons and the almost-full third one couldn’t shine enough light through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the library to lessen her feelings of helplessness. As a matter of fact, the sight of them only served to remind her that time was indeed running out.

  Flecks of dust floated about her face as the musty library smell of old parchment and ink filled her nose to the point of nausea. Her head pounded, her stomach rumbled, and her rear end had long ago gone numb.

  Twelve hours of non-stop reading. Twelve turns of the hourglass as sand trickled, hoping that perhaps the next volume she picked up might hold the key. Row after row of shelves had been emptied, and books lay scattered on the surface of the long table. Piled four and five high in places, the remnants of a full day’s toil had still not yielded a single word to help their dire situation.

  There had been pages, chapters and sometimes even entire books concerning human history, anatomy, physics, physiology, psychology, chemistry, and to some extent mating rituals, but nothing helpful concerning the order of marriage.

  Volume after volume stated the same thing: In the organization of marriage in a royal family, it is the proper way of humans to marry their daughters by order of their birth. The only footnotes as to why, and what possibly might be exceptions to the rule, had been found only in the collection of the oldest reference tomes.

  These digests, a set of three volumes, were rumored to have come to Albrath from the original human world galaxies away and centuries ago. Manuscripts of such importance were not to be found in a simple Academy library, so the question remained, where did they reside? There were only four copies of the set known to still exist in all of Albrath, and they were all privately owned.

  VoT! What was she going to do now?

  “That’s it, then. There are no more books to look through.” Lark yawned and stretched as kinks and aches in her muscles reminded her once more just how long she’d been sitting in one place. She glanced around the table at the faces of her sisters and friends. They all held the same expression of desolation she was trying to hide. One by one, they laid down the manuscripts they’d been reading and quietly closed the covers.

  “So, what now?” Aryanna asked while rubbing her forehead. “Do you think there’s any way to find a set of those three old volumes in time?” Tears filled Ary’s eyes, and Lark wanted to cry right along with her as she continued, “This is all my fault, and I’m so sorry. It never occurred to me our human half would be that important, but it should have. We can’t give up now, we simply can’t. I promised Cyrrick I would find a way.”

  Lark took Ary’s hand in hers and smiled even though she didn’t feel it. “We aren’t going to give up. I promise. We’ll find a set. We must.”

  The dark-elf librarian, Authorn Hawthorn, walked over to the table. “I’m so sorry to disturb you fine princesses, but it’s well past closing time and I still must put these books back in order before I can lock up. My significant other is going to be very angry with me. He’s probably been holding the night’s sustenance for at least two turns of the hourglass by now. Perhaps you can return tomorrow and continue your search?”

  Lark shook her head. “There’s no need for us to return. What we’re looking for isn’t here. We do appreciate all your help, Authorn, really we do. We’re sorry for being such a bother and making you late for your evening meal.”

  The dark-blue of the librarian’s skin brightened to almost a glow as a smile relaxed his face. “No bother at all. It’s my job, and I take it very seriously. If there is ever any way I can help, please don’t hesitate to ask. It’s not often we get royalty in the library.”

  A thought occurred to Lark and for the first time in hours her smile felt genuine. “I know they aren’t here in this library, but you wouldn’t happen to know where we might find a copy of the three ancient human history texts, would you?”

  Authorn appeared to be deep in thought for a moment. He tapped an indigo-blue finger against the side of his dark cheek. “The Chronicles of Shak-spere? I don’t know their exact location, but I do believe I might have an idea of whom to ask. I remember someone once mentioning that High Mystic Purrell is a collector of extremely rare books. Perhaps he has a copy. That’s who I’d check with if I were you.”

  A sudden gasp caught Lark’s attention. Briar’s face had gone completely white and looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “What is it, Briar? What’s wrong?”

  Briar shuddered before she spoke, and her voice sounded
shaky. “Remember when I told you about what happened to Ray? It was because of that same High Mystic Purrell Authorn is speaking of. And trust me, I’ll never forget my one and only experience with that man. If we must go, then I suggest we stick close together, and whatever you do, under no circumstances, let him get close enough to touch you,” Briar grimaced. “I won’t shock you with the details, but trust me when I say it was scary.”

  Lark nodded, concerned with having to face the powerful mystic but at the same time, her heart raced anew with the hope of possibility. After all, how bad could it be? There would be six of them to Mystic Purrell’s one. Safety in numbers. She smiled. “It’s settled then. We’ll meet at the cafeteria first thing in the morning, and after we break our fast, we’ll pay High Mystic Purrell a visit.”

  ****

  Darkness enveloped him and Sarco’s senses leapt to keen awareness. The only light available to the group was the glow of lit torches held high in the hands of Adan’s soldiers. Even if it hadn’t been for the clouds, the light from Albrath’s three moons and the brightness from the stars would have been mostly obscured between the towering solid rock walls of Castle Kuropkat’s high mountain pass.

  Still, he climbed without hesitation, leading the group ever upward.

  The smell of sulfur and brimstone hung heavy in the air and burned his lungs. His throat hurt to swallow, it was so parched, and his eyes stung and watered. Waves of heated air drifted toward him on all sides, and even though it should have warmed him, it had the opposite effect.

  Sarco shivered.

  The fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled and his skin tingled. They were breathing down upon him, watching his every move, whispering among themselves and waiting for a signal of some kind.

  The ground below his feet pulsed through the soles of his boots with an energy of its own, and he could not only feel the hypnotic beckoning of the throb, but also hear the steady, rhythmic cadence of at least a hundred huge hearts beating in unison.