by Aaron Crash
With every blissful spasm, Charibda felt more juice drip from her sex. She’d leave a puddle. She was making a mess. Would her mistress be mad? Would Lillee punish her slave? A part of the mermaid, a deep part of her, hoped she would be punished.
It was an eternity of coming, and when the final convulsions swept through her, Charibda couldn’t hold back the emotion. She started crying, and she cried harder when the elf girl shifted to hold her, cradling her, kissing her, telling her she was a good girl. That it was all okay. That this wasn’t just about power and sex, this was also about a gentle love, afterwards, after the games, after the dirty talk, after the sex.
Lillee took care of her. She cleaned Charibda up, found her a new gown, and gave her wine, which the mermaid sipped in trembling hands.
The pair ended up in Charibda’s bed, in her suite. Lillee continued to whisper kindness and love. She had her cuff on because she wouldn’t sleep if she didn’t have it on.
Charibda felt the love, but she was also afraid. Laying on the elf girl’s chest as both of them drifted off, the mermaid whispered, “You must think I’m weak. You must hate me now...for letting you do those things to me.”
“No,” Lillee said softly. “I think you’re strong for showing me that side of you. I’m afraid of what you think of me. I’ve never...I’ve never done that to someone before.”
Charibda raised her head. “No, Lillee. I think I’m falling in love with you. You were stern, yes, and somewhat cruel, but it was game. I’m not a slave. You’re not my mistress, not in real life. We’re just us in real life.”
Lillee kissed her. Both had tears in their eyes.
Charibda knew that something was shifting inside of her. She was afraid of the change even as she welcomed a new life on this strange land so far away from the Blue Dark.
Chapter Fifteen
SATURDAY NIGHT, THE day after they moved into the Zoo, Ymir stood in Jennybelle’s empty suite for a long time. All the furniture was gone. It had all been Jenny’s, and they’d moved every stick over to the Zoo. He walked into the bedroom, which was also empty, the window bare, showing the sunset. It had taken all day, and that was after his morning training with Della, which left both his body and dusza bruised. Gharam had started throwing punches in frustration. Ymir had dodged many but not all.
The old professor was getting his edge back because teaching combat wasn’t the same as battling to the death. Ymir had learned more, though, about the Kurzig Durgha. Not every round was a death match. It was a holy ritual with all manner of ceremony and rules, and the River Deck was involved, though it was called the Fateblood Deck—same number of cards, same suits, but it was considered holy. The Gruul had a vast amount of lore on what each card meant. Ymir wasn’t surprised. Even his own people had their beliefs surrounding the different symbols.
As for the fifth member of their Gungarr, Sturm Valarenza, his first day hadn’t been too impressive, but he’d been holding back. Valarenza was a welcome addition to their team. His Moons magic was powerful and his sword almost as fast as his lightning. So far, he’d not tried to kill Ymir or fuck the Princept, and so he was fitting in well.
Ymir stalked out of the suite’s bedroom and back out into the main room, past the cold stove. He walked out onto the balcony. The Zoo didn’t have a balcony yet. He’d been considering Form magic, which would help them shape some of the more troubling aspects of their new home.
Form magic was how Della was creating an arena on the grounds of the campus. They were going to take the Flow Field and create an orcish fighting pit there. Professor Issa Leel, the elven Studia Dux of Flow, had given her approval. She liked the Flow courtyard better for outside activities.
Thinking of the Ohlyrran professor made Ymir smile. Issa Leel had saved the school from the merfolk’s ocean attack. That old elven woman had surprised Ymir with how much of a warrior’s heart she had. They still didn’t like each other, but there was respect between them.
Issa’s Flow magic was powerful, and he could still remember how cold it had been on that fateful day. Ymir knew about cold, and it had been cold in the Crack. Memories of the night bear, the hunt, and the Lonely Man came back to him. And his curse. At the same time, he had to consider something sobering. If he hadn’t had magic, would he have been able to stand up against Della during their sparring? The answer was easy. No. She would’ve beaten him in seconds with her magic. No, the magic, or fucking magic, as he referred to it, made him more powerful. It was why Della had chosen him to be part of Old Ironbound’s Gungarr.
Yes, he was cursed, but that curse had somehow become a blessing. He wasn’t out to turn away from acquiring more power, and more power meant crafting more of the Akkiric Rings. He had a special plan for the Yellow Scorch Ring, one that shouldn’t raise the Princept’s suspicions.
He had to keep the rings a secret for now, but he also needed help. He’d had Tori deliver a message to the Studia Dux of the Moons college, Linnylynn Albatross, who was also a member of something called the White Rose Society. They were going to meet in the library, and Jennybelle would be there with them.
Ymir closed the door behind him. A chapter of his life was over. His book, however, still had pages upon pages left for him to fill.
Walking through the Flow courtyard brought back memories of cleaning with Lillee, of walking down to the Sea Stair Alley cells, which they no longer needed. All of their xocalati supplies had found a new home in the Amora Annex. It was mostly used as a warehouse for their xoca business, but it also housed some of Gatha’s special erotica collection. Ymir was fairly certain that the she-orc also had shelves in the Scrollery for what she called her dirty books. Every so often, he’d catch her coming up from the Scrollery, a little disheveled, a little sweaty, but very relaxed. He could appreciate that girl’s appetites. However, he had to agree with the Aquaterreb when it came to the chitubbing. Or was it simply the chitub? More and more, it was rare for him to have sex with only one woman, unless it was with Tori, who still sometimes liked having him all to herself.
Walking into the Librarium Citadel, he saw Jennybelle talking with Professor Albatross, or Linny, as they called her. They were co-conspirators, so there didn’t need to be so many formalities. Ymir was in his Flow robes, with the leather customizations, and he had his school satchel. Inside he had the three rings as well as the Circulum, the text Linny had given him.
Gatha came up from the Scrollery, saw them, and waved them forward. Ymir nodded at her. It was good that they not talk at their usual place on the second floor. They couldn’t be seen talking.
Ymir, Gatha, and Jennybelle would talk to the professor. Tori had gone to bed early, and Lillee was spending time with the mermaid. From the sounds of it, those games included a great deal of talking and screams of pleasure. Maybe some spanking. Ymir had to admire Charibda. She’d won the elf girl’s heart.
In short order, Ymir sat at the central long table in the Scrollery, which, at one point, had been a torture chamber for the vempor. Then Sarina Sia, their friend and spirit, had turned it into a chamber of pleasure, where she had feasts and orgies and such debauchery that strained the imagination. Ymir’s. Not Gatha’s.
There were dungeon cells lining each wall, and inside were scrolls and tomes of a semi-forbidden nature. The real evil grimoires were up above Della’s apartment in the Illuminates Spire.
Sunfire lanterns gave them light and lit up the art and baroque decor of the library basement. Glass windows showed the moat where the laughing eels wriggled by.
Jennybelle had smuggled in a bottle of wine and three cups in her satchel. When Gatha withdrew to collect some books, the swamp woman poured them each a glass. “If Green Stuff catches us, blame me.”
Ymir wouldn’t want to be at the center of that fight, but he wasn’t about to turn down wine.
Linny took hers and gulped it. “Yes, it’s good. I was thirsty.” The professor’s manners were awkward however pretty she might be. And she was pretty, with a round face, a round
nose, and dusky skin. Her angelic face was framed with tight curls the color of ink.
Jennybelle frowned. “You’ve got to excuse me, Professor, but I’m gonna be blunt. Never heard of the White Rose Society, and this is from someone who’s been tracking the Midnight Guild since they sent people to kill Ymir. Do your White Rose people have similar designs?”
Linny’s mouth turned into a surprised O. “Never. The thought is shocking. We’d never think of hurting anyone. The Midnight Guild doesn’t want anything to change. The White Rose Society knows all life is a constant flow of change. We seek to increase our knowledge, and we aren’t frightened by what others might call evil or demonic. For instance, the Akkiric Rings. We know they are powerful, but we trust that Ymir will use them wisely. We believe in beings like Ymir, chosen by otherworldly forces to usher in a new era.”
Ymir watched Jennybelle. He thought most of what Linny said was indecipherable claptrap, so he said nothing.
His Jenny, so good at the game, affirmed the claptrap and followed up with a question. “Yes, we all trust in Ymir. So, your interest in the Akkiric Rings is merely academic?”
“Yes.” The professor nodded enthusiastically. “Only academic. We don’t want to summon demons. We don’t want to end the world. We just want to learn. For instance, I know that’s the Black Ice Ring, and I’ve been looking for texts on what it might do. You don’t know, do you?”
Ymir shrugged and showed it off, part gold, part dark ice full of shadows. “I’m hoping once we master the Gather Breath, the secrets of the Black Ice Ring will be revealed. The two are tied together, which is why we had to finish the Gather Breath before our Fourth Exam. For now, I use the Black Ice Ring as my Focus ring. When I crafted it, I felt the power it had, and I could’ve used it to destroy my dusza. That was Siteev Ckins’s plan for me.”
Linny frowned. “And when that failed, my friend Hayleesia Heenn came here to kill you.”
“Actually, Haylee came to kill me and seduce the Princept.” Jennybelle rolled her eyes. “You yourself know how the Swamp Coast families can be. My Aunt Jia wanted me dead. We’ve since...come to an understanding.”
“An understanding?” Linny looked mystified.
“I don’t kill her, she doesn’t kill me, and we both pretend I’m dead as far as the Swamp Coast queendoms are concerned. Which is the truth.” Jenny sipped her wine. “But we’re not here to discuss that. We need your help with the Gather Breath Ring. We’ve run into some academic issues.”
Gatha’s footsteps rang out. She came with a stack of dictionaries in her arms. She saw the wine and scowled. “By the Tree’s bloody roots, Jennybelle Josen, how many times have I told you? We do not allow food nor drink anywhere near my books.”
“Do you mean the library’s books, sweetie?” Jenny asked innocently.
Gatha growled at her. “If I weren’t so interested in the Circulum text, I would drink all that wine myself and break that bottle over your head.”
“Would that be before or after you kiss me?” The swamp woman blinked her eyes seductively.
That stunned Gatha for a minute. The she-orc’s gaze dropped to Jennybelle’s generous cleavage. Gatha had a strong attraction for breasts, the bigger the better.
The she-orc let out a harrumph and sat.
Already, Linnylynn had the book open. She reached out a hand. “Yes, some of this is familiar. I can translate some of the text because, while the book is old, it uses some verbiage preferred by the priests of the vempor. The priests used a strange ancient dialect of Theranus when they inscribed their more peculiar notions.”
“Priests of the vempor?” Ymir asked. “Let me guess, there were seven of them. Seven wives. Seven royal guards. Seven governors. What did the seven priests of the vempor worship?”
“The Vempor Aegel Akkridor himself,” the professor answered. “There was a cult who venerated him as an all-powerful god, a man who defeated death and held an empire together for a thousand years. They wrote about him in ancient Theranus, and I learned it because they described a world beyond ours, a place that reverberated with a dark power.”
“And this world can be found on the Stair?” Ymir asked.
“The Stair connects all worlds everywhere together,” Linny replied. “All possible worlds, where anything is possible, where there are demons, sure, but angels as well. Angels who want to protect us and love us.”
Ymir thought that Linny would rather have the demon she’d seen in in her youth. Tori had relayed the entire story, and Ymir had seen it for himself when he wore the Veil Tear Ring. Linny had been a young girl when her obsession for other worlds started, in the garden of her parents’ estate in Williminaville, one of the Scatter Islands.
Tori had tried to use the Veil Tear Ring to learn more, but the professor herself had noticed Tori’s spirit and had stopped all such investigations. She was powerful, strange, and seemingly harmless.
“Can I see the Gather Breath for myself?” the Williminaville professor asked.
Ymir fished it out of the satchel and laid the ring on the table. The emerald seaweed strands held together the three hoops of precious metals. “We crafted it following the instructions from the book, but it’s not active yet.”
Jennybelle shivered and started twirling her dark hair around a delicate finger. “I still have nightmares about those skeletons.”
Ymir took her hand from her head. Jenny hated her nervous habit of playing with her hair. “It was very frightening.”
For her it had been. For Ymir? He couldn’t be afraid of such weak enemies. They hadn’t hurt him. They’d merely been dull bone. Sarina Sia’s specter was more troubling, but she hadn’t attacked them either. But would that change? Spirits who weren’t at rest could become dangerous, fickle things.
The clansman continued. “To activate the ring, we need certain breaths, and that is where we are having trouble because the language is so difficult.”
Linny let out a long sigh. “See? This is the problem with superstitious people. There should be consistent, relevant information about the rings, but much of it was destroyed, along with other more questionable texts, when the vempor was killed on the Night of Fire. Even that event is shrouded in mystery because people believe that some truths are better kept secret. All truths should be celebrated and—”
Gatha cut in. She wasn’t about to let the professor ramble. “I’ve been able to discern three of the breaths. The breath of a righteous woman. The breath of an angry man. The breath of sadness. What does that mean?”
Linny’s brow furrowed. “From this, it seems you have to summon the breath with a verbal command, and the person must breathe on the ring. You will need eight black candles. And you will need Form magic, a simple fascinara spell.”
“Tori,” Jennybelle said. “She can do Form magic better than any of us.”
“I’ll try my hand at it first.” Ymir took out his grimoire, taking notes as to the nature of the Form fascinara spell. He was still working on that branch of the Studiae Magica. However, while working on the Akkiric Rings, he’d discovered a rogue Morbuskor alchemist who might advance his knowledge.
Linny squinted at the open book. “There are five more. You need a unique person for each, and not the wearer of the ring. It repeats that over and over. The breath of the righteous woman but not the wearer. The breath of sadness but not the wearer.”
They compiled the list. There were the three Gatha had figured out and five more:
The breath of the artist.
The breath of the warrior.
The breath of an orphan girl with sweetness still.
The breath of ultimate cold.
The final breath of the Storm King’s daughter, forever changing and forever changed.
Ymir frowned at the last one. “Does that mean this Storm King’s daughter must die? The life’s breath?”
“It could very well be,” Linny said. “Though I don’t think so. The language is more metaphorical. We won’t be sure until we find th
at person. I’m not sure who the Storm King’s daughter might be. I can do my own research, though.”
Jennybelle laughed. “It’s rather on the nose, ain’t it? The Gather Breath Ring has us gathering breath. And what will it do when we’re finished?”
Linny brightened. “I don’t know. Doesn’t that make this all the more exciting?”
“Not the word I would use.” Jennybelle sobered. “I’m an orphan. The question is, am I still sweet?”
“You better be,” the Williminaville professor said. “For there is a warning: if any of the breaths are untrue, then the wearer will suffer, sicken, and die. His dusza will be as ash in his chest.”
Ymir laughed at the warning. Movement drew his eye. He thought he saw a woman standing near the steps leading down into the catacombs and lower chambers of the library. Supposedly, if you went deep enough, you’d find the Stair, which would then lead you to any number of worlds.
A lantern near the gated steps flickered. When it grew brighter, the woman was gone. Had that been Sarina Sia? He thought so, and he felt a chill trace icy fingers down his spine. It wasn’t the ghost—it was his magic, tickling him.
They finished drinking the wine, while talking about the next steps to craft the ring. They moved on to language and history and Aegel Akkridor. Ymir would be taking a class on the most famous of the vempors next year. Then he would delve into the mystery of these seven servants of the vempor. There seemed to be a definite connection between Aegel Akkridor and the Akkiric Rings.
They left the Scrollery. Ymir was padding back to the Flow courtyard when Jennybelle stopped him. “No, Ymir, we live in the Zoo now.”
He grinned sheepishly. “It’s going to take me a bit to remember.”
“You and me both,” Jenny said, exhaling. “I loved that apartment. I’m going to miss that balcony. Care to walk me back to our new Zoo?”
Gatha let out a rare chuckle. “The Zoo might be a good place for me. Supposedly, I smell bad. And I’ve been called a beast before.”
