by Martha Carr
“What happened to your old car?”
Cheyenne blinked at him as she stepped up onto the sidewalk. “Totaled.”
Corian raised an eyebrow and turned his head toward her, though his eyes remained on the shiny black Panamera. “Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid like run a red light or try to drag race in a beat-up Focus.”
She snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.” The Nightstalker finally spared her a cynical glance from the corner of his eye. “I’m a great driver. Never been in an accident. Including today.”
“Congratulations.”
Cheyenne shot him a deadpan stare. “If I told you that another of those O’gúl loyalists wearing that stupid bull’s head—and looking like a human—blew up my old car with a non-magical bomb, would it get you to cheer up a little and quit holding a grudge?”
Corian’s eyes widened when he turned to face her, and his gaze darted up and down the street. “We should be having this conversation inside.”
“By all means. Lead the way.” The halfling gave him a mocking little bow and gestured toward the side of the house and the stairwell leading down to Apartment D.
With one more glance around the dark, quiet, empty row of rental units, the Nightstalker headed across the grass toward the stairs. Cheyenne followed, and they didn’t say another word until Corian had removed the wards from the metal front door and they were both safely inside his empty, unfinished single room.
After he closed the door behind the half-drow, Corian’s fingers moved in quick, precise gestures, and the orange light flared up around the inside of his door again. “What did he look like?”
“A human who just broke out of a mental hospital.”
Clearing his throat, the Nightstalker smoothed down the front of his charcoal-gray sweater and headed across the room toward another circle of candles arranged in the center of the floor. “And the bomb didn’t have any magic involved?”
“Not that I could tell. Just a good old-fashioned homemade.” Cheyenne chewed the inside of her bottom lip, waiting for her newest mentor to say something else. Corian just stared at the circle of candles. “He told me I don’t belong here. That she’s calling me back, whatever that means.”
She didn’t think it was possible for the Nightstalker’s back to stiffen any more, but it did.
“Did he say anything else?” The words came out as a low, warning growl.
The halfling shrugged. “Something about blood.”
“Blood bonds with blood.”
“So, you do know why these assholes are coming after me.” Her fingers tightened around the straps of her backpack. “Now would be a great time to let me in on the secret everyone knows but me.”
“I already told you, Cheyenne. When you’re ready to know the truth of things, you will.” The Nightstalker’s fingers moved quickly at his side, and he dropped his illusion spell. It gave him a few more inches in height, the sweater hugged him tighter, and the pointy, catlike ears emerged from beneath his short, mussed hair. “Until then, it’s too dangerous to go down that road.”
“Dangerous for who?”
Corian turned around and fixed her with those glowing silver eyes in his feline face. “Everyone. Mostly you.”
“Really? ‘Cause at that mansion yesterday, it sounded like you were a hell of a lot more worried about saving your own skin.” Cheyenne gritted her teeth when the usual flare of her drow magic didn’t appear with the heat of her anger. Still weird.
“If you just came here to point fingers and get all defensive again, I’m more than happy to take down those wards. You can show yourself out.” One of the Nightstalker’s ears twitched, but his face remained emotionless.
Taking a deep breath, Cheyenne forced herself to let it out slowly through her nose. Suck it up and make some progress. “You know that’s not what I want.”
“Then act like it and tell me you’re ready to table this for later so we can train. That’s why you’re here.”
The halfling held his gaze for a little longer, then slid her backpack off her shoulders and set it down against the wall by the door. She pulled out the copper legacy box, a little surprised when it still didn’t react to her touch, and took it with her to join Corian beside the circle of unlit candles. “Consider it tabled.”
“Excellent.” Corian cast another spell, his hands working quickly as he whispered words in O’gúleesh. Flames winked to life on every candle, and the air above the center of the circle shimmered with dark light. The orb of his portal grew in seconds, revealing a shadowy doorway looking out onto a sloping grassy hill. “Let’s not waste any more time, huh?”
Cheyenne was stepping over the closest candles when he gestured toward the portal. She passed through the large, dark oval in the air.
The smell of saltwater and fish hit her instantly, followed by cold, slightly damp air that didn’t belong to Richmond at the end of September. The moonlight sparkled across a black expanse of water, joined by the reflection of thousands of tiny, glittering lights behind her. The halfling turned around to watch Corian step through the portal before the dark opening disappeared with a soft pop. “Where’d you take us this— What the hell is that?”
Corian smirked and faced the steep incline of the hill behind them and the wide, sweeping expanse of the stone building that would have been white in the daylight. Now, it was light gray, the tower of the lighthouse rising into the starry sky. “You ever been to the Rock?”
“My first thought is a resounding no.” The halfling stepped to the side, trying to peer around the massive building in front of them. In the distance, she saw more land jutting out into the water and all the sparkling lights from the city.
“Nowhere to go but here, kid. Being on an island and all.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out.” Cheyenne gestured toward the walls of the huge building above them. “The Golden Gate Bridge is right on the other side, isn’t it?”
“As far as I know.”
I really wanna punch that smirk off his face. “Why the hell did you bring me to Alcatraz?”
“Well, it’s not so I can lock you in an empty jail cell. As fun as it would be.” He snorted. “For me.”
“What happened to the field in the woods?” Cheyenne turned around again and stared at the glittering Pacific Ocean stretching out in front of her. “Or at least an ocean with warm water?”
“Riker’s Island is still an active prison so that one’s off the table.”
“I’m serious.” She spun around again and found him chuckling. “There’s a whole city of people over there who are gonna want to know why Alcatraz is lighting up like the Fourth of July in September.”
“Huh. I didn’t think about that.”
“Are you serious?”
“No.” Corian flicked his hand out toward the ocean. A shimmering dome of orange-tinted light appeared, stretching from the edge of the island and arcing over them toward the other side. “I don’t rush blindly into a new plan, Cheyenne. That’s another thing to put on your to-be-learned list.”
The orange dome disappeared, and the halfling shook her head. “You don’t have to rub it in, man. I get it. Still not sure why your portal had to take us all the way to California.”
“Got something against the Golden State?”
“Yeah. Too much sun.” When the Nightstalker snorted, the corner of Cheyenne’s mouth quirked into what was almost a smile. “I’m a fan of the woods.”
“That particular location was compromised, kid. I’m trying to keep our trail clean.”
She headed toward him, just to fall under the shadow of the prison building again. It still feels like people can see us. “We got out of there before the other portal opened.”
“Yeah, but they found where we were first.” Corian blinked in surprise and let out a wry chuckle. “Look at that. I’m talking to somebody who’ll understand this on the same level.”
“Not quite.”
He shook his
head. “Opening a portal leaves a trace. Think of it like diving into the dark web, Cheyenne. No official VPN for a portal, but we have time to do what we came here to do tonight before I have to find another safe place for us to work the next time. Once you take off that pendant, I can only keep you hidden for so long. By the time they find this place and whatever markers we left here that I can’t cover up, we’ll be somewhere else.”
“They?”
“The people who almost crashed our last training session. I’m sure you and I are on the same page when it comes to not wanting them to succeed.”
“Yeah, we are.” The halfling grabbed the thin silver chain around her neck and lifted the pendant out from beneath her hoody. “So, can I get rid of this thing now?”
“Temporarily.” The Nightstalker took a deep breath of the salty ocean air and cocked his head. “You hear that?”
A low honk drifted over the constant rush of waves breaking on the ocean and crashing up against the sharp drop off the Rock. Another echoed it, followed by more.
Cheyenne blinked and shot her mentor a disbelieving stare. “Does your magical island bubble keep out seals, too?”
Corian shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out. Ready to start?”
Rolling her eyes, the halfling spun the chain around on her neck so she could untie the knot she’d put there yesterday. “Give me a second.”
“We don’t have all night, kid. Hurry up so we can make the most of it.”
Finally, she loosened up the broken ends of the chain and jerked off the pendant before stuffing it into one of the many pockets lining her cargo pants. It surprised them both that she didn’t automatically slip into drow mode, but Cheyenne only had to think about it to make it happen.
The drow halfling faced the cat-like Nightstalker and spread her arms. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“Do you have any progress to report before we get started?” Corian stepped toward the sharp incline of the earthen walls cut into the island. “Seemed like you had plenty of practice at that giant house yesterday.”
“I did, actually.” Cheyenne turned the drow legacy box over in her hands, then bent and set it on the dry grass growing in patches across the dirt. “Got one more piece of that thing locked in place, and I’m pretty sure I mastered the shield.”
“Mastered is a strong word. For now, you understand how and when to use it.”
The halfling snorted. “I understood enough to use it perfectly when we were going after those kids.”
“Good to hear.” The Nightstalker cleared his throat. “While we’re on the subject, who found them?”
“The kids?”
He widened his eyes and lifted his chin, waiting for her to continue.
“I did.”
“You found them?”
Cheyenne laughed without any amusement. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be teaching me how to be better, you don’t sound all that confident.”
“It’s not a lack of confidence, Cheyenne. Just surprise.” He scratched his tufted ear, his silver gaze darting around the thin grass and the dry shrubs. “And I might be rethinking my abilities if you found something on the dark web that I didn’t.”
“That’s not what happened, so don’t worry. No black mark on your reputation or anything.”
The Nightstalker met her gaze again and frowned. “Not on the net?”
“I tried, but no. I negotiated my way into another visit with L’zar.”
Corian’s silver eyes narrowed. “L’zar Verdys knows a lot of things, kid. Hard to believe the location of a bunch of kidnapped magicals he had nothing to do with is one of them.”
“He didn’t tell me where they were.” Cheyenne glanced at the stars and took another deep breath. He doesn’t believe anything he can’t see with his own eyes, does he? “It was more like he helped me figure it out.”
“Still sounds off.
“Tell me about it. It was one of the weirder conversations I’ve had recently.”
Folding his arms again, Corian studied her. “Well, I suppose all those kids and their parents have both of you to thank for that.”
“I don’t think either of us is waiting for a thank you. The FRoE only came to me about it because they were out of options, and I did what I had to do.”
“How did he jog your memory?”
The halfling rolled her eyes. “Mostly, it was a lot of banging on iron bars. Like a drow monkey at the zoo.”
That made the Nightstalker chuckle. “Did you at least remember to tell him we’d started your trials?”
Cheyenne pressed her lips together and stared her mentor down. “Yeah, I remembered. He got pretty excited about it, and that was probably the only reason he helped me put the pieces together about those kids. You were right about that, at least. The guy’s looking out for number one.”
“Which includes looking out for you too, Cheyenne. Even if it’s from behind bars.”
“You know, if he ever gets out of Chateau D’rahl and comes to help me with a new problem, I might believe that. He did give me a spell for speeding this whole trial thing up, though. Don’adurr Thread, I think?”
“The Don’adurr Thread?”
“That’s what I said.”
Corian’s amusement disappeared, and he rubbed a fur-covered hand over his mouth before shaking his head. “That wily sonofabitch.”
“Not gonna argue with you about that one.”
“He gave you more than a simple spell, Cheyenne.” Frowning, Corian rubbed his hands together, shook them out in preparation for another spell, then cocked his head. “Not what I would’ve given you to start with, but if L’zar thinks you’re ready for it, it’s not my place to say he’s wrong.”
Bad news when a Nightstalker starts looking uncomfortable. “What is it?”
“I can set it up for you, but you have to do the work on your own.”
“Let me guess.” Cheyenne folded her arms. “Because I’m not ready.”
“More like because I can’t do anything else. It’s a drow ritual, kid. I don’t have what it takes to show you the ropes on this one.” Shaking his head again as if that would get rid of his astonishment, the Nightstalker muttered a spell and opened a new portal directly in front of him. This one was a lot smaller, and he ducked through the opening into his basement to reach for something in the junk on the metal shelves lining the walls.
“And this ritual will make my trials go faster?”
“That’s for the two of you to figure out. I’m just the messenger at this point. Supplier. Alchemist. Damn babysitter.”
“Someone’s getting grumpy.” The halfling stepped around the portal to watch him grab random items from the shelves, which he tossed behind him into the dirt on Alcatraz Island. Not sure I like where this is headed.
“I’ve spent hundreds of years waiting to guide L’zar’s halfling kid through the drow trials.” Corian uncovered an ornately decorated silver box with the engraving of a tree on the lid and tucked it under his arm. “Never thought I’d be whipping up a Don’adurr Thread, but that’s on me.”
When he stepped back, the small portal disappeared with another soft pop, and Corian lowered himself to the ground with all the things he’d pulled from his basement on the other side of the country.
Stepping toward him, Cheyenne studied the small corked vials and dried herbs scattered on the sparse grass. “I’d appreciate a little more of an explanation before diving into this. Seriously.”
“Just give me a minute.” He stacked the dried herbs in a pile and wrinkled his nose. “This is the last of my riverwort, by the way. We’d be in a different situation if I’d used any of this sooner, but lucky for you, drow potions are low on my list of go-to options.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m feelin’ real lucky.”
The Nightstalker looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, “Sit. And be quiet so I can focus.”
Digging deeper and deeper into a hole I can’t see. This better be
worth it. Forcing herself not to spit out any other smart remarks, the drow halfling sat on the ground and crossed her legs, watching her mentor get to work.
She didn’t recognize any of the ingredients, but Corian moved so quickly, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He crushed dried herbs in an alarmingly stained mortar, then dumped tiny vials of purple and clear liquid into the mix and stirred it. When he slid aside the lid of the fancy silver box with the tree rising in gnarled lines from the center, a soft golden glow illuminated his catlike features.
“What’s—”
“Shh!” Corian reached into the box and pulled out another vial. It was long and slender, with an intricate wrapping of copper coils. Whatever it held was the source of the golden light. He uncorked it carefully and slowly tipped the lip into the mortar. Two drops, that was it. Then he closed the vial again and put it back inside the silver box. He tried to hide it, but Cheyenne’s hearing picked up his tiny sigh of relief once the golden light faded.
With the pestle, he stirred the whole weird, glowing mixture again, then dropped the stone tool into the dirt.
“Okay. That’s for you.”
The halfling stared at the swirling concoction in the mortar, which flashed with gold and purple light a few times before it settled. “To do what?”
“To drink. That’s the Don’adurr.”
“I’m not drinking that.” She shook her head and leaned away, scowling in distaste. “Not until you tell me what’s in it and what it’s supposed to do. That stuff smells like grapefruit.”
“You don’t like grapefruit?”
“Not without actual grapefruit.”
“This is how it’s done. You say his name and drink it, then I tell you good luck, and we wait for the Don’adurr to run its course.”
Cheyenne eyed the mystery potion a little longer. “I should’ve asked that crazy drow for a Plan B.”
“Hey.” When she looked at him, Corian leaned toward her and raised his eyebrows. “Do you trust me?”
“I thought I did.”
“Cut the smartass remarks. I’m serious.”
“So far, yeah.”
“Good. And I trust that crazy drow, however hard it is for you to believe.” He pointed at the mortar. “Drink it. It won’t hurt if that’s what you’re wondering about. Not that I’ve heard about, at least.”