Quote the Drow Nevermore

by Martha Carr

  She moved way too slowly up the stairs, grimacing when her knee popped every time she straightened it. Or I could go with blazing through these trials and ending the fun little sparring sessions.

  With a snort, she stepped off the last stair and headed across the grass toward her car. The Panamera chirped when she unlocked it, headlights flashing twice. Her backpack went into the passenger seat, then she slipped behind the wheel, closed the door, and smiled. “Getting into a car like this almost makes the pain go away.”

  She brushed her fingers across the tight, glistening black leather of the steering wheel and started the engine. Too bad I can’t roll up to Peridosh in this thing. Nothin’ like making a bigger statement than last time.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Cheyenne checked the Borderlands forum again when she got home, which confirmed the fairly good feeling she’d had about the rescued kids getting back to their families. Twenty more users had posted an update on another wayward minor coming back home, though none of them mentioned how they’d been found or who’d brought them back.

  Even if they know, nobody wants to openly post about the FRoE playing the neighborhood hero.

  She glanced at the time. “Almost one in the morning. Yeah, I bet every single one of those kids is accounted for here before I head off to class tomorrow. Oh, shit.”

  Wincing when she scooted her desk chair closer with just a little too much enthusiasm, the halfling logged onto her VCU student email address and checked for incoming emails. Mattie won’t care that I didn’t show up today, but that’s not gonna fly with everyone.

  The only email she had, though, came from Professor Mattie Bergmann, which made her pause before she forced herself to at least read the subject line.

  Urgent: Academic Meeting with Cheyenne Summerlin.

  “Oh, boy.” The halfling clicked open the email and shut one eye. This is where the other shoe drops. Just read it already.

  Dear Ms. Summerlin,

  It has come to our attention that you seem to be experiencing difficulty in attending your graduate classes as scheduled this semester. As a result, the professors and staff taking part in your personal education have reached the conclusion that an alternative method for earning credits toward your graduate degree might be in the best interests of all parties involved, should you wish to continue. You are excused from attending all three of your scheduled classes this Friday in lieu of attending a meeting Saturday evening at 6:00 in the Computer Sciences building on campus, Conference Room A. We appreciate your cooperation and punctuality in this matter.

  Sincerely,

  Professor Mathilda Bergmann, Ph.D.

  Professor of Computer Science

  Virginia Commonwealth University’

  Cheyenne hadn’t realized she’d been grimacing through the whole email until her forehead and upper lip grew sore. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  She scrolled back up to the top of the email, and her jaw dropped. “She CC-ed Hersh on this. And LePlant.” The halfling clicked hastily through the added email addresses until she’d opened them all. “Every single one of my professors. A meeting with all of them.”

  With a grunt, she flung herself back into her desk chair and barely noticed the dull ache in the back of her shoulder. Why?

  The email sent at 3:24 that afternoon had a second reply at the bottom. Cheyenne scrolled down slowly. Wouldn’t surprise me if Hersh thought this was the perfect time to hit reply all and rub it in some more.

  But the second email was from Mattie too, sent at 3:27 p.m. and addressed only to Cheyenne.

  Don’t miss this one!!!!

  The halfling snorted. “Italics and four exclamation points. Something tells me she’s serious.”

  Rolling her eyes, Cheyenne logged out of her university email and pushed out of the chair. Her knee popped again, and she glared at it. Just had to be a Saturday. At least they’re not kicking me out of the program. Yet. And I have a little more time to recover, I guess.

  After turning off her monitor, she grabbed her phone from the front pocket of her backpack and took it with her into the bedroom. A sliver of her fractured bedroom door fell onto the carpet when she brushed it. I’ll get Corian to show me how to fix that too. No problem.

  Slipping out of her clothes was a chore, but once she had them all tossed in a pile, she climbed into her bed and spread out under the covers. Three times, she had to readjust the pendant around her neck, slipping it away from her chest or out from under her pillow. “I’m gonna throw a party when I don’t need this thing anymore.”

  Her eyelids drooped after she finally found a comfortable position. Everything ached, but beneath all of it, the buzzing presence of the Nimlothar seed she’d ignited on her own lulled her quickly to sleep.

  The blaring alarm on her phone went off at 6:30 a.m., just like every weekday. Groaning, Cheyenne had to try more than once to lift her aching arm off the mattress. Then she smacked her hand down on her phone and dragged it off the nightstand and into bed with her.

  Just snooze for like...two hours.

  The minute she got the alarm to shut the hell up, her phone buzzed with a new text from Ember.

  So, this is fun. I’m kinda knocking myself out with morning breath over here and realizing I left all the nurses at the hospital. Any chance you could pop by before class and help a girl out?

  Cheyenne chuckled, then covered her mouth. “Not funny, halfling.”

  Blinking her eyes into focus, she sent an immediate reply.

  Guess we didn’t think this through all the way, huh? Don’t worry. No class today, so I’m all yours. Can you hang in there another 30?

  Ember sent her a thumbs-up emoji in response, and the halfling pushed herself off the mattress. She dropped the phone to rub her face, then slid out of bed and almost dropped to the floor right there.

  “Whoa.” Catching herself on the edge of the bed, Cheyenne took a few more seconds to wish her legs into working normally, then carefully stood. Maybe I’m overdoing it with the training. I’m not doing Ember any favors if I can’t walk, either.

  She limped toward her bedroom door and the bathroom on the other side of the short hall, then groaned and shook her head. Not-walking comments are off the table too. This is real for her. She doesn’t need a smartass friend making it worse.

  The sight of her reflection in the mirror made the half-drow pause again. She made a face at the darkening bruises covering her right shoulder and swallowing the left. Dark purple-red splotches peppered her torso. There were a few larger ones on her back, and most of her right thigh was one giant bruise.

  Perpetually half in drow mode. That’s the look I’m rockin’ now. Frowning, Cheyenne grabbed her brush and got to work on her hair. Add healing salves to the list of spell lessons too.

  A little over half an hour later, Cheyenne grinned through the pain of moving anything at all when her Panamera chirped behind her in the parking lot. She moved down the outdoor hallway of Ember’s apartment complex, unlocked the last door on the left, and stepped inside. “Honey, I’m home.”

  “Very funny,” Ember called from her bedroom. “This is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get to having a sugar daddy. And it’s you, so that doesn’t count.”

  Laughing, the halfling closed the door behind her and locked that too. Then she headed into the single bedroom and found her friend propped up in bed against the enormous pile of pillows they’d tossed to the foot of the bed the night before. “You look comfy.”

  “Much better than a hospital bed. I can say that for sure.” Ember ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “But I’m tired of beds, Cheyenne. Please tell me you’re not gonna lock me up in my apartment and call it ‘getting some rest.’ I’m not a homebody.”

  “Yes, this I know.” Cheyenne grabbed the wheelchair and brought it as close to the bed as she could. “One more thing to add to the list of why you and I being roomies for a while might work out.”

  “Might, huh?” Em
ber slung an arm around her friend’s shoulders and hung on while the halfling half-dragged, half-lifted her into the chair. “I thought we already decided it was a perfect setup? Ow! I can still feel my upper back, you know.”

  “Sorry.” Trying not to laugh, Cheyenne stuck her foot against the outside of one wheel to steady the chair and finally shifted the fae girl into place. “Note to self. Lock the wheels for this kinda thing.”

  Ember pushed up on the armrests to readjust herself in the chair, trying to hide a wince of discomfort the minute it crossed her face. “For a halfling who carried me from Jackson Ward to the hospital, you seem a little low on arm strength this morning.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I’m chalking it up to all the rock-climbing.” Ember waved the half-drow off and shrugged. “Good thing I picked that up when I did, am I right?”

  Cheyenne watched her friend and bit her bottom lip. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re making jokes or being serious and trying to cover it with sarcasm.”

  Ember snorted. “Probably both. I’m testing the waters with self-deprecating humor. You of all people get that.” She shot the halfling a sidelong glance with a little smirk, then grabbed both wheels and tried to push herself forward. The chair only moved a few inches before she gave up. “I hate carpet!”

  “You got a little farther than the one attempt yesterday.”

  “It’s not a new hatred, either, and now it’s getting in the way of me being able to do anything.” The fae dropped her hands in her lap with a thump and glared at the opposite wall of her bedroom.

  Cheyenne let her have a moment. We both knew this might get a little bumpy. “Em?”

  Ember closed her eyes and sighed. “Yeah.”

  “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay, ‘cause there’s not a simple answer for that one.” The other girl snorted and shook her head, her eyes still closed. “But I will ask you if you’re ready to get pushed into the bathroom, betting that your text this morning was a minor emergency.”

  A tiny, breathless laugh escaped Ember, and she nodded. “Everything’s a minor emergency right now.”

  “Fair enough. I’m ready to tackle them one at a time when you are.” The fae’s lower lip started to tremble, so Cheyenne stepped toward the back of the wheelchair and gripped the handlebars. She’ll cry or she won’t. Not gonna stand there waiting for a show. “Just say when.”

  “When, Cheyenne.” The other woman nodded and sniffed, then lifted a finger toward her open bedroom door. “Onward, halfling. For glory.”

  “Okay, I’ll let that rallying cry slip into the passable category this time. Might be worth it to brush up on famous pre-battle speeches.”

  “I’ve only been home for a day, okay? Give a girl some time.” Ember sniffed again, wiped her nose, and let out a little chuckle. “I’ve got some smiting to do in the bathroom.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Cheyenne rummaged through her friend’s overnight tote on the floor beside the bed and pulled out Ember’s toiletries bag. Out came the toothbrush and toothpaste, and the halfling handed them over with a smirk. “Can’t smite anything without your weapons.”

  “Right.” Ember nodded and pointed with her toothbrush toward the bedroom door. “Onward.”

  Chuckling, Cheyenne grabbed the wheelchair’s handles again and pushed much faster than she had to across the room, out into the hallway, and into the bathroom on the other side. The magicless fae let out a whoop that was supposed to be a battle cry, and they burst out laughing as the wheelchair squeaked to a stop beside the sink. “We’ll have to work on that one.”

  Ember opened the toothpaste and waved it at her friend. “Top of my list, halfling.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Closing the driver’s side door of her Panamera, Cheyenne turned toward Ember in the passenger seat and grinned. “I have a feeling all the hard work’s out of the way, Em. Nothin’ but fun today. All day.”

  Ember snorted. “I appreciate you playing hooky to go apartment-shopping with me, and I’m not gonna tell you to just drop me off somewhere so you can get to class.” The fae buckled her seatbelt and gave the halfling a tight smile. “You sure missing classes today isn’t screwing with your endgame?”

  Cheyenne laughed. “I have an endgame, huh?”

  “Yeah, you know, like a master’s degree.”

  “Right. The endgame of all endgames.” The halfling wiggled her eyebrows, her head wobbling in fake enthusiasm. “I want it for sure, but there are a lot more important things than getting a piece of paper with my name on it and VCU’s stamp of approval. You’re one of them.”

  “Well, that’s awfully open-minded of you.”

  “Very funny.” Gripping the steering wheel, Cheyenne pressed the start button, and the engine purred to life. “Win-win for both of us today. My classes were canceled.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yep.” Cheyenne backed out of the parking spot at the front of the apartment building and headed out of the lot toward the street. “If you think that’s weird, try opening an email from your favorite professor with all your other professors CC-ed on it, saying they all had a little chat about your career in graduate education and decided they were gonna change things up to be ‘in the best interest of all parties involved.’”

  Ember laughed. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Right? They told me to forget about my classes today and join them for a meeting tomorrow night instead.”

  “On a Saturday.”

  “On a Saturday at six o’clock, Em.”

  They both laughed as Cheyenne drove them out toward the center of town.

  Ember tucked her hair behind her ears and shook her head. “That’s weird. Doesn’t sound like they’re trying to make you drop out, though. Hey, maybe they’ll have you update all their systems. Or write new ones. A total overhaul of the university servers and they’re just calling it learning so they don’t have to pay you.”

  The Panamera rolled to a stop at the next red light, and Cheyenne turned slowly to shoot her friend a sidelong glance. Then they burst out laughing again. “You know what? If they want me to do glorified IT maintenance to earn my master’s and they don’t have to kick me out, I’ll take ‘em up on that. Get the whole thing done and out of the way in a week, and I’ll have my degree before Christmas.”

  “And a happy New Year, huh?”

  “Just like that.”

  A minivan pulled up beside them at the red light. The girl sitting in the passenger seat was probably still in high school, or maybe just out of it. She grinned at Cheyenne’s new ride and pointed, saying something to the woman behind the wheel who looked like her mom.

  Cheyenne threw devil horns at the girl and smirked. The girl’s mom leaned forward to see who was driving the Panamera, and her eyes grew wide. She shook her head vehemently, talking way too fast and jerking her daughter by the arm to sit forward again and quit staring at the Goth chick behind the wheel of a fancy car.

  “Can you believe that?” The halfling laughed as the light turned green and the minivan sped away. “Even when I’m rolling around in a Panamera, people still get turned off by the whole—” She turned to look at Ember, who’d been pulling at the corner of her mouth with one hand and dragging her cheek down to show the whites of her eyes with the other. Cheyenne burst out laughing. “You’re the one who scared them off!”

  “What?” Ember chuckled. “There’s no way me making ugly faces is scarier than a Goth chick driving a Panamera.”

  “Yeah, no way.” Cheyenne pulled through the intersection. Her stomach let out an obnoxious growl, and the girls shot the halfling’s gut matching glances of surprise.

  “Did we forget the most important meal of the day?” Ember’s fingers drummed on the armrest.

  “Not forgotten. Just delayed.” The halfling glanced up the street and nodded. “Ready to fix that before we scour this city for the perfect apartment?”

  “Ms. Summerlin!”

  Cheyenne scowled a
nd shook her head.

  Ember fought not to laugh through her words. “I thought there was no such thing as the perfect apartment?”

  “That was before I had a fae sitting in the front seat of my Panamera. Pretty sure there are exceptions to every rule.”

  “Then hell, yes. I can’t wait to stuff my face with something I get to order myself that wasn’t made in the hospital cafeteria.”

  The halfling nodded and stepped on the gas. “You got it.”

  By the time they’d battled the wheelchair to get out of the car, into the bagel shop downtown for fried eggs and bacon between everything-bagel buns and some of the best coffee Cheyenne had had in weeks, and back into the car again, Ember looked exhausted.

  The halfling started the car and took a huge swig of the lavender-honey latte in a to-go cup. “Okay. Nine-thirty.” She set the coffee down in the cup holder and strapped herself in. “I think we’re making pretty good time.”

  Ember buckled her seatbelt again and thumped her head back against the headrest. “That’s like half the morning gone already.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Cheyenne turned toward her friend and raised an eyebrow. “That also means we still have over seven hours to find our new digs. That’s a whole damn day!”

  “And we’ll spend half of it getting that wheelchair in and out of the car and me in and out of the chair.” The fae girl closed her eyes. “My arms are already sore.”

  The halfling smirked. “Not from wheeling yourself around, though.”

  Her friend let out a wry laugh. “No, Cheyenne. From propping myself up while you pretend to be a scrawny Goth human trying to lift her friend in and out of everything.”

  “Huh.” Cheyenne turned off the engine, and Ember blinked before opening her eyes all the way again.

  “What?”

  Turning in the driver’s seat to face her friend as directly as she could, the halfling raised her eyebrows and leaned forward a little. “You want to keep going?”