by Martha Carr
“It’s not you, nilsch úcat. That’s for damn sure.” The orc leaned sideways to leer up at the ex-general. “You’re too busy takin’ it from this—”
Corian’s hand clamped down on the top of the orc’s bald head and jerked it back, exposing the magical’s green neck. The next second, the Nightstalker’s silver claws were pressed to the orc’s throat. “If the next word out of your mouth isn’t a name, it’ll be your last.”
The orc licked his lips, glaring at the Nightstalker without fighting to free himself from the grip jerking his head back. “Fuck you.”
“General?” Corian stared at the orc and pressed his claws more firmly against the soldier’s neck.
Maleshi grimaced in disappointment. “Yeah, we’re done here.”
Faster than anyone could follow, the blades of Corian’s claws sliced through flesh and bone, and the orc fell lifelessly into the troll woman’s lap.
The troll jerked forward toward Maleshi, her crimson eyes blazing. “You can’t stop the black tide, bitch! And there’s no other world for you to run to—”
The snap and crunch of a broken neck cut off the troll’s words before Maleshi released the prisoner’s head from both hands. Then she stood from her crouch with a low hiss. “Looks like my judgment’s still on fucking point.”
Corian rose beside her, ignoring the rising shouts and rhythmic growls coming from the other loyalist prisoners scattered around them. “At least we tried. Just give the word, General.”
“No. I’ll handle it.”
With a firm nod, Corian stepped away from the Nightstalker ex-general and the chantlike snarling and hissing coming from the tied-up magicals. He rejoined Cheyenne and Persh’al in the center of the clearing, followed shortly by Byrd and Lumil. Every magical standing beside the halfling firmly set their jaw, watching Maleshi with grim acceptance.
Cheyenne tried to meet Corian’s gaze, but he wouldn’t look at her. “What’s happening?”
Her drow-trial mentor swallowed but said nothing.
Maleshi stopped in front of Commander Gu’urs lying on the ground and didn’t bother to squat beside him again. “Still time, if you change your mind. All these soldiers are your responsibility, don’t forget.”
“I don’t forget,” the raug spat. “None of us do, traitor. You’ll die fighting for the wrong drow, General.”
The Nightstalker woman settled her gaze on the shimmering pink wall she’d sealed across the Border portal. “Yeah, so will you.”
Cheyenne stepped closer to Corian. “Seriously, what are we gonna do with these assholes?”
He still wouldn’t look at her as he muttered, “This is why we’re fighting, Cheyenne. When you want something bad enough, you gotta get your hands dirty.”
“Corian.” She glanced quickly at Maleshi, whose arms were lifted in front of her and spread toward either side of the clearing. “We can’t just—”
The burst of silver light erupting from Maleshi’s outstretched arms filled the entire clearing, momentarily blinding everyone and drowning out the shape of the Nightstalker standing in its center. A sharp, earsplitting crack rent the air, followed a split second later by dozens of screams. They only lasted a few seconds before cutting out. There was a collective thump in front of Maleshi, then the light faded.
When Cheyenne opened her eyes again, blinking against the burning glare behind her eyelids and waiting for her vision to adjust, her jaw dropped.
Every single bound magical lay still, heads fallen forward or back at impossible angles, bodies slumped sideways or sprawling on the ground. Thin streams of smoke rose from fist-sized black burns on every single prisoner. Cheyenne’s nostrils flared at the sickly-sweet stench of uniforms and flesh burning together. Her fists clenched at her sides as she fought to control her rapid breathing.
Maleshi was down on one knee in the middle of all of it, her head bowed as she propped her elbow on her raised thigh. The only sound came from the still-sizzling burns on the bodies and the remaining magicals’ expectant breath.
The ex-general pushed to her feet, took a deep breath, and turned toward one of the open crates of black O’gúleesh power chips.
“What?” The searing heat of Cheyenne’s drow magic rippled up her spine, and she took off after Maleshi.
“Cheyenne.” Corian reached out for her arm again, but this time, the halfling jerked free of his grip and whirled.
“No. We came here to find out how this portal got here, not to kill a bunch of prisoners you guys tied up.”
“I told you this was why we’re fighting, kid.” Corian spread his arms with a tight grimace. “It’s done.”
“Without even trying to find a different solution? Are you kidding me?” The halfling spun again and stalked across the grass toward Maleshi. “Hey!”
The Nightstalker woman shoved a handful of black metal chips into her pocket, then bent to retrieve a piece of shattered carapace the O’gúleesh loyalists hadn’t bothered to clear away. She tested the weight of the shiny black shell and nodded. Then she headed back across the clearing, brushing past Cheyenne without meeting the halfling’s gaze.
“Oh, now you’re just gonna ignore me?” Cheyenne followed her former professor toward the group of rebel magicals. All four of them watched her with wary hesitation. “I’m talking to you, Mattie. And you better have an airtight excuse for what you just did, ‘cause I can’t think of anything that makes it okay. Mattie, stop.” The halfling pulled up on the grass, the purple sparks flaring at her fingertips beyond her rage and control. “Maleshi!”
The ex-general stopped in front of the group and rolled her shoulders back. Corian, Persh’al, and the goblins didn’t take their eyes off the drow halfling shouting at the Nightstalker who’d taken down entire armies all on her own.
Slowly, Maleshi turned and fixed Cheyenne with her glowing green eyes. “If you have something to say to me, Cheyenne, say it now. But do not raise your voice at me again.”
The ferocity behind those flashing eyes made the halfling swallow. The purple sparks snuffed out. “You just killed them all. No warning. No asking what the rest of us thought. Did you even stop to consider that we could do something else with those soldiers?”
Maleshi blinked. “I consider every possible outcome before every decision I make, Cheyenne. You and your new friends came to find me because you wanted General Hi’et to figure out what to do at this Border.” She spread her arms. “I’ve been making these kinds of tough calls for longer than this world has been out of the Dark Ages, and I stand by them.”
“You didn’t have to kill them.”
A bitter smile spread across the Nightstalker’s lips. “Is it the killing part that’s getting under your skin so much? I find it hard to believe you’re a zealous defender of peace.”
Cheyenne snorted and folded her arms. “Hey, I’ve left bodies on the ground behind me. I admit that. But not when they’re tied up. Not when they can’t defend themselves.”
Maleshi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’re on the brink of another war, kid. This is what war looks like. It’s not pretty, and it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but we have to keep the big picture in mind here.”
“I’m all for a rebellion against a monarch destroying magicals’ lives on the other side.” Cheyenne swallowed again and shook her head. “If there’s a way to finish what you started—what L’zar started—fine. But keeping the Crown away from me isn’t worth killing a bunch of her soldiers who can’t fight back.”
The Nightstalker stared at the drow halfling, then her dark eyebrows flickered together in her feline face, and she turned without another word.
“That’s it? End of discussion, just like that?”
Maleshi headed swiftly across the clearing toward the tree line and disappeared into the woods.
Chapter Eighty-Two
Corian glanced at Persh’al, Lumil, and Byrd, then nodded toward the crates and the O’gúl loyalists scattered around them. The magicals headed towa
rd the crates, gathering as much of the O’gúl contraband as they could to take with them.
When he caught Cheyenne’s gaze, the halfling fought down another unintended flare of her drow magic. I should’ve done something.
“How many times do I have to tell you this is bigger than you?” Corian walked toward her, his head low like he was trying to whisper to her from three yards away. “Bigger than Ambar’ogúl, too.”
“You’ve been telling me that since we met, Corian.” Cheyenne forced herself to unclench her fists. “I know you made a promise to L’zar, but don’t try to tell me that promise included killing a bunch of soldiers with their hands tied behind their backs.”
“They would have done the same to us. The fact that the Crown didn’t open this new portal doesn’t matter anymore. She’s using it, and she just sent us a message by moving all this shit across the border.” The Nightstalker shook his head and glanced at the shimmering wall of pale pink light rising between the dark stone spires of the ridge. “They’re bringing this war Earthside, and the fight won’t end with the magicals in hiding over here. The Crown will come for humans too. Maybe even go for them first, given how easy humans are to pick off. And if she doesn’t, whatever we fought this morning will end up doing the same kind of damage, if not more.”
“The ruler of Ambar’ogúl is gonna send her forces into this world to kill humans.” The halfling cocked her head with a dry laugh. “That doesn’t make sense. Humans don’t even know about this.”
“It doesn’t matter who knows. What matters is how far the Crown’s willing to go to get what she wants. Which might not just be you at this point.” Corian eyed Persh’al and the goblins as they trudged back across the clearing. The blue troll and Lumil carried one of the crates between them, followed by Byrd with an armful of silver blood-tracker canisters. “Whatever she wants over here, she won’t stop until she has it all in her grasp. That’s what we’re trying to avoid, Cheyenne.”
“None of this looks like avoiding it to me.”
“You have the right to your opinion, kid, but if we wanna make sure a day like today never happens again, we need to hurry it up with your trials. Like yesterday.”
“Why?”
“You’re gonna help us stop this war. Hopefully, before it really gets bad, and preferably in time for L’zar to put all the other pieces in play to join us.”
Cheyenne scoffed, glancing around the Nightstalker to see Persh’al and the goblins vanishing into the woods. “All he has to do is break out of Chateau D’rahl and show up. But he can’t even do that.”
“He will when—”
“When I’m ready?”
Corian’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, his brow creasing again in something like concern. “No. When he’s ready. Time to go.”
The halfling scanned the scattered mess across the fresh Border portal. “What about all this?”
“We’ve got as much as we need for now, and we really don’t have time to play cleanup.” The Nightstalker headed toward the tree line, knowing the halfling wouldn’t be too far behind.
Cheyenne studied the clearing and the portal. No wonder things went to shit over there. I won’t let that happen on this side.
They made the drive back to Persh’al’s warehouse outside DC in complete silence. The goblins had given up bickering with each other, and it didn’t pick back up again once the SUV pulled into the warehouse’s weed-choked parking lot. While Persh’al and the goblins hefted the O’gúl contraband into the warehouse, Corian stayed outside with Cheyenne and Maleshi.
“Whatever Persh’al can figure out about those machine parts, he’ll give us a report in the next few hours.”
Maleshi pressed her lips together and glanced at the warehouse’s metal door as it clicked shut behind the other magicals. “Have him run whatever searches he can for a different frequency of magical tech.”
“At the very least, yeah. I hate to say it, but I hope their expert’s been tinkering enough to give off even a minor signal.”
“Hope won’t get us that name, vae shra’ni.”
“No, but it sure does keep that troll motivated.” Corian glanced at the halfling and gave her that concerned frown again. “We’ll call the whole day another training session, kid. Let me know what happened with the Cuil Aní when you get home.”
“Checking a copper box doesn’t feel like a top priority,” she muttered.
“Doesn’t matter what it feels like.” Corian pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed on it. “Just text me if anything changes.”
“I don’t have your—” Cheyenne’s back pocket vibrated, and the Nightstalker looked at her with a wry smile.
“Now you do.”
“Okay.” The halfling gave him a curt nod and stepped toward her Panamera. “Mattie—Maleshi… You know what? I don’t know what the hell to call you anymore.”
“Whatever you like, Cheyenne.” Maleshi’s gaze was locked on Corian’s, even as Cheyenne unlocked her car.
“Right. You want a ride home?”
“Absolutely. Go ahead and start the car. I’ll be right there.”
After glancing at the Nightstalkers, who were locked in a staring contest, Cheyenne shrugged and walked around the front of her car to slip behind the wheel. Her two mentors didn’t say another word until she’d closed the driver’s side door and the low hum of the Porsche’s engine was audible. The halfling sat back against the seat and closed her eyes. No way they forgot I can still hear them.
“Thank you for coming with us,” Corian muttered, studying the ex-general’s face. “Would’ve been better to find you under different circumstances, but—”
“But things are the way they are. I get it.” Maleshi tilted her head and folded her arms. “I didn’t tell that girl to wait in the car so I could get a private thank you.”
Corian laughed but didn’t sound even remotely amused. “So this is the part where you tell me you never want to see me again. That you disappeared for a reason, and just because I found you, it doesn’t mean we’ll pick up where we left off. Duty is duty, right?”
Maleshi shook her head. “You said it, not me.”
Corian hung his head with another bitter laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. The ex-general dipped her head, watching him collect himself and waiting until he was finished. When he looked back up at her, his eyes flashed with an intensity she’d missed for four hundred years. “Then why did you tell her to wait in the car?”
“You realize how important it is to get her through those trials.”
“Of course I do. Don’t insult me.”
“And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.” She stepped toward him, forcing him to keep looking at her. He didn’t step back or lean away, just lifted his chin enough to meet her gaze. “But if you push her too hard, vae shra’ni, if you break that halfling’s spirit to get the job done, I’ll know. And I will hunt you down just to see the look in your eyes when you remember every word of this conversation.”
Corian stared at her, the tufts of light-brown fur down the sides of his face twitching a little when he smirked. “So that’s what it takes to get you to find me, huh?”
“It’s not a threat, Corian.”
“I know it’s not. I care about what happens to her just as much as you do. It’s been a long time, Maleshi, but not long enough for you to forget who I am.”
“Hmm.” She glanced at nothing behind Corian’s shoulder. “Not long enough for either of us to change much, either.”
All he could do was shake his head and offer a little shrug.
“Find me when Persh’al has something worth going after.” Maleshi spun away from him to head toward Cheyenne’s car. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder. “To be clear, I’ve wanted to see you again every day since I left. That’s how much this matters to me.”
Corian couldn’t think of anything to say as General Maleshi Hi’et opened the passenger side door of the drow halfling’s shiny
new car and slipped into the seat. He watched the woman cast her illusion charm as Cheyenne retied the broken silver chain that hung the Heart of Midnight pendant around her neck. L’zar Verdys’ righthand magical didn’t move until the two women in the Panamera drove away.
Chapter Eighty-Three
“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” Cheyenne asked as she pulled out of the overgrown parking lot and onto the side street in the nearly empty neighborhood.
“Oh, come on, Cheyenne. We both know you heard every word of that conversation. I’m sure you can put the pieces together for yourself.” A slow smile spread across Maleshi’s now human-looking face as she glanced at the halfling beside her. “You’re getting pretty good at that, aren’t you?”
Cheyenne ignored the professor’s jest. Guess we’re not talking about those soldiers or Corian. Fine. She glanced at the scrap of beetle-thing carapace resting in the Nightstalker’s lap and snorted. “I’m still having trouble with that piece, though.”
“Ah. Yeah.” Maleshi tapped her fingernails on the curved husk and shrugged. “I have no idea what it is, honestly.”
“Why’d you take it?”
“Jealous that I thought to grab a souvenir, are you?”
The halfling rolled her eyes and focused on the road. “You weren’t even there for that fight.”
“Well, if there’s anything left when we’re finished, kid, I’m more than happy to hand it over for you to hang on the wall.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“No problem. Just keep driving.”
Adjusting her hands on the steering wheel, Cheyenne glanced quickly at the Nightstalker woman beside her. Maleshi just stared out the windshield, her lips moving soundlessly. “Uh, I don’t know where you live. Once we get back into town, you’ll have to give me directions.”