by Martha Carr
Cheyenne lifted the ring between her thumb and finger and shook it. “Surprise.”
“I’m still waiting.”
“What, you can’t tell what this is?” The halfling chuckled. “I made you your very own fae disguise.”
“Um…”
“Okay, so technically, I cast a personal illusion charm on this ring and was planning on using it for myself. You know, when I had to look like a drow and wear that magic-killing necklace at the same time. But now the pendant’s useless, so those days are over for me.”
“You cast an illusion charm?”
The halfling moved across the living room to sit on the armrest of the recliner beside her friend. “It took me hours. Corian almost ripped me to shreds. Don’t let it go to waste.”
Squinting at the ring, Ember slowly held out her hand. “If you charmed this for yourself, Cheyenne, I don’t think it’s gonna work for me.”
“I mean, I didn’t make it personal with blood or anything. The charm is made for showing the magical side, if you will.” She dropped the ring into her friend’s open palm and shrugged. “And full disclosure, when I managed to do this one the right way, I was planning on making one for you too. Then I got busy.”
“Hey, it’s the afterthought that counts.”
“Don’t make this weird. Just try it. If my old troll neighbors could lend me an illusion charm they didn’t make for a drow halfling, I don’t see why this won’t work for you. That’s the point of a generic charm, right? Covers a wide range of uses?”
“I don’t even have a magical-looking side. I never have.”
Cheyenne scoffed and waved off her friend’s hesitation. “Just shut up and put on the ring. I wanna see what happens.”
“Fine, but don’t blow holes in the wall when this doesn’t work.”
“Maybe I should’ve left you with my mom. You fit right in with the skeptics and pessimists there.”
Ember shot her an exasperated glance, then slipped the ring onto her middle finger in one smooth, swift motion. A soft white glow flashed around the human-looking fae, then Ember’s features shifted. At first, it was almost impossible to tell the difference, but then the girl’s skin lightened to a shade a lot more like Cheyenne’s human coloring. Her eyes gave off an unsettling violet light, and her brown hair took on a darker shade with more red in it. The blonde highlights were distinctly lavender now, and her body gave off a shimmering pink glow in a thin halo, especially over her bare skin. The halfling couldn’t see it if she looked directly at it, but the minute she shifted her gaze, there was that pink glow again in her peripheral vision.
The fae didn’t notice a thing. “There. See? You made an illusion charm for yourself, and if I don’t end up looking like a drow, I look—” Ember glanced down at her hands and frowned. “What the hell?”
“Yeah, go look in a mirror.”
Ember wrinkled her nose at the halfling and wheeled herself back to turn toward the kitchen. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m gonna look in a mirror.”
Cheyenne chuckled as her friend moved swiftly across the living room and disappeared through her open bedroom door. The chair bumped against a wall or two, then the bathroom light flicked on.
“What the hell?”
“Told you,” Cheyenne called.
“What did you do to my eyes? Why am I pink and purple?”
“Must be the real you, Em.”
“This is insane!” Ember cackled in her bathroom, then bumped around a bit. When she reappeared in the doorway, she’d centered herself enough to wheel the chair back into the kitchen without making a dent. “You did this?”
“Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe.”
“You did this!”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “You okay?”
Ember let out another wild laugh and looked at her hands again as her chair rolled slowly forward, turning them over in amazement. “I have no idea. Is this what I’d look like right now if I was born looking like this?”
“Have you never seen a full-blooded fae in action?”
“It’s a hell of a lot different when it’s me.” The fae slipped the silver ring off her finger, and the pink glow and the violet light vanished.
This time, Cheyenne saw her friend’s cheeks fill out the slightest bit and the almost imperceptible shift in her eyes when they faded to their normal brown color.
“You saw my eyes, right?” Ember pointed to her face. “They got all big and weird-looking.”
“Not that weird.”
“It’s pretty fucking weird, Cheyenne. And you just slip in and out of drow and human like changing your underwear or something.”
The halfling snorted. “That’s a weird comparison, but okay.”
The ring went back on Ember’s middle finger and her fae appearance returned, full glow and everything. “Look at this!”
Stepping toward her friend, Cheyenne fought back a laugh and pointed at Ember’s hand. “Hold up your hand for a second.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Cheyenne grabbed Ember’s hand and pressed their palms together with a frown. “Weird.”
“Hey, I’m already freaked out about looking like a fae with an illusion charm. You’re not helping.”
“I couldn’t get that ring on anything but my pinky. Corian said fae have small fingers, but yours aren’t that much smaller than mine.”
Ember took her hand back and laughed. “Seriously? It’s magic, Cheyenne. Why is that not enough of an explanation for you?”
The halfling cocked her head and chuckled. “Huh. I guess that’s the only answer I need.”
Glancing at her legs, Ember turned down the corners of her mouth and shrugged. “The only thing that would make this better is if my legs started working again.”
“Aw, my bad. I should’ve started with something even I know is seriously advanced magic.”
The fae smirked. “I don’t think a spell for that exists, but I saw myself in the mirror and couldn’t help wondering.” Ember shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve only had one physical therapy session so far.”
“Which Dr. Boseley said went really well, right?”
“Yeah. But admittedly, looking like a fae in a wheelchair is a lot better than not looking like one.” Ember blinked quickly, sniffed, and met her friend’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“Just something I had lying around. You know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So.” Cheyenne sat back down on the recliner’s armrest and wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that enough to get you to come to Peridosh with me and some FRoE boneheads or what?”
“Damn straight, it is.” Ember grinned. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The halfling glanced at the clock over the stove and choked back a laugh. “We’re gonna have to wait a little longer. Yurik said six.”
“Whatever.” The fae stared at her hands and shook her head. Her grin stayed put. “That’s just more time for me to get used to seeing myself like this. Otherwise, your FRoE friends are gonna think I’m the crazy one.”
“Worst-case scenario.”
Shooting her friend a quick glance, Ember studied her arms and patted her face a few times. Then she grabbed the remote from where she’d propped it between her legs and handed it to the halfling. “Pick whatever you wanna watch. Maybe it’ll distract me.”
Cheyenne stared at the remote but didn’t touch it. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“What? You just scroll through the shows and pick something. Do I need to show you which buttons to press?”
“I don’t watch TV.”
“It’s not TV, Cheyenne. It’s Netflix.”
“Same thing.”
Ember dropped her hand and the remote into her lap with a thump. “Are you kidding me? Now you’re gonna tell me you didn’t watch anything as a kid, either.”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Did you see a TV at my mom’s house?”
The fae’s luminous, v
iolet-glowing eyes narrowed, then she stared at their blank TV against the wall. “You grew up in that big fancy house without TV.”
“No movies, either. I mean, I had the internet, but I dare you to imagine Bianca Summerlin sitting down for movie night with a bowl of popcorn.”
“Ha.” Ember blinked and shook her head. “That’s pretty much impossible. Okay, fine. I’ll pick something, and you can pretend to enjoy it for three hours while I pretend to ignore that I look like a freakin’ fae.”
The halfling bit her lip to keep back a laugh as her friend jerked the remote toward the TV every time she pressed a button, her eyes comically wide. “Is that how you get the buttons to work?”
“Shut up and sit down.” Ember kept clicking through the selection on their smart TV, but she lowered her hand into her lap.
Chapter Thirteen
“Okay, that’s it.” Cheyenne leaned forward in the armchair and snatched the remote off the table. “If I have to watch one more episode about whiney people trying to break out of prison, I’m gonna break the TV.”
“Too much?” With a short laugh, Ember gestured toward the screen. “I promise it gets better after the first few episodes.”
“I’ve already wasted three hours on the first few episodes.” The halfling turned off the show and sent the TV sliding back down into its hidden spot in the table. “I can feel my brain melting.”
“Right. Well, we can’t all be insanely smart hackers who teach their professors’ classes and kick criminal ass on the side for fun. The rest of us need hobbies too.”
Laughing, Cheyenne tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood from the chair. The chains on her wrists jingled when she stretched her arms high above her head. “You can have your hobbies, Em. I’m done with watching weird shows for the next month—at least.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost five-thirty.” Glancing at her friend, Cheyenne raised an eyebrow and spread her arms. “Ready for your first trip into Richmond’s very own underground marketplace? Literally.”
“That’s still a dumb question. Of course I’m ready.”
“I thought so. Let me just grab my stuff.” The halfling went up to the iron staircase to the mini-loft to get her phone off the desk. As soon as she slid it into her back pocket, someone knocked on the door.
“It’s open,” Ember called.
“Em!” Cheyenne pointed at her over the railing as the doorknob turned. “The ring.”
“Shit.” Ember struggled with the illusion charm on her finger as the door swung inward. She managed to pull it off a second before Matthew poked his head through the door, and his gaze settled on her as the flashing light of the broken charm receded. “Hey, Matthew.”
“Hey. You said it was open.”
Cheyenne stomped extra-loud down the metal staircase.
He glanced up at her and chuckled. “I thought it’d be okay to just come on in.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Ember’s hand clenched tightly around the ring, which she buried in her lap like she was trying to hide something.
“What are you guys up to tonight?”
“We’ve got plans.” Cheyenne stepped past him to open the coat closet between the front door and the kitchen. “Jeeze, Em. Have enough jackets?”
“Grab the purple one.” Saying the word “purple” made her snort, and she glanced into her lap as if the illusion charm would slip right out from within her tightly clenched fist.
“Sure.” The halfling held back a chuckle and grabbed the purple jacket off its hanger before shutting the door.
Matthew glanced between them with a confused smile and opened the front door a little wider. “What kinda plans?”
Cheyenne lifted Ember’s jacket hooked over one finger and nodded at their nosy neighbor. “The going-out kind.”
The fae took her jacket and shot Cheyenne a warning look.
“On a Tuesday?” Matthew cocked his head.
“Why not?” Cheyenne grabbed her baggy hoodie with the white hand flipping the middle finger on the back and tugged it on.
“I need to get out,” Ember added with a shrug. Then she patted the armrests of her chair. “Can’t drive myself anywhere unless it’s in this thing.”
“Oh.” Matthew’s smile faded a little. “Well, I’m having some friends over a little later. If you guys wanna drop by when you get back, you’re welcome to.”
Ember sat straighter in her chair and smiled. “Thanks. That sounds fun.”
“If we have time.” Cheyenne stopped beside her friend and stuck her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. “Who knows how long we’ll be out?”
“Right. Sure.” Matthew’s gaze dropped quickly to Ember’s fist in her lap, which she tried to hide by folding her arms. “You know where I live, so just knock.”
Ember laughed and smiled at their tall, weirdly intrusive neighbor from across the hall.
The halfling glanced from her friend to Matthew Thomas, neither of whom seemed capable of pulling out of their shared gaze. What is up with these two?
“Okay, well.” Cheyenne stepped behind her friend’s chair and grabbed the handlebars. “Time to go. Have fun at your house party.”
“Yeah, I will.” Matthew stepped back into the hall as Cheyenne pushed Ember out of their apartment. “You will too, if you decide to come by.”
“We might.” Ember stared up at him with a goofy smile, her puffy purple jacket folded in her lap while Cheyenne pulled her keys out to lock up.
“If we have time.”
Their neighbor chuckled. “You mentioned that part already.”
“Oh, good.” Grabbing the chair’s handles again, Cheyenne nodded at the guy and pushed Ember down the hall. “See ya.”
“Have fun.”
“Thanks.” Ember looked at him over her shoulder one last time. She laughed when she saw the halfling’s skeptical frown and whispered, “What? It was nice of him to invite us.”
Cheyenne waited until Matthew’s front door closed again with their neighbor on the other side of it. “How much do you wanna bet he wouldn’t have invited me if I wasn’t standing right there next to you?”
“Huh. I wonder why.”
Shaking her head, the halfling punched the elevator’s call button and folded her arms. “I’m a lot nicer to him than I am to the people I really don’t like.”
“But you don’t like him, either.”
“I don’t know.” Cheyenne squinted down the hall at Matthew’s front door. “There’s something weird about that guy. Beyond his ridiculously obvious crush on you.”
“Why is that weird?”
“It’s not. He just makes it creepy when he walks right into the apartment and stares at you.” The elevator doors opened, and Cheyenne pushed her friend inside before hitting the button for the lobby. “If I didn’t have all this other stuff going on, I might do more than Google the guy.”
“You Googled him.”
“Yeah. That’s a thing.”
“Cheyenne.” Ember tipped her head all the way back and looked exasperated. “Why is it so weird that somebody’s nice and helpful and happens to have a thing for your housemate in a wheelchair?”
“I’m not talking about that last one, Em. The weird part is that nobody’s that nice all the time on the outside unless they’re secretly trying to get something out of it. He hasn’t once snapped back at me. That’s a red flag.”
“Does it ever occur to you that nobody wants to snap back at a Goth chick who looks like she’s ready to punch someone’s lights out at any given second?”
Cheyenne laughed. “Of course it does. And the people who have a problem with the way I look are the people who don’t want anything to do with me, including a little round of stinging banter. I don’t care about that. But that Matthew guy didn’t react once to the way I look or what I say. Nothing. It’s like he’s just…”
“Nice?”
The elevator doors opened again on the ground floor, and Cheyenne pulled Emb
er backward into the lobby. “Too nice, Em. Too nice to be genuine.”
“You know what?” The fae leaned forward to slip into her jacket as they headed toward the front doors. “I think you’ve spent way too much time studying your mom.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a lot more cynical than you wanna admit. Or that you’ve been taught to expect the worst from people.”
Cheyenne hit the handicap button beside the front doors and waited for them to slowly open. “I’m pretty sure I heard you say something about perfecting the art of having no expectations.”
“Okay, well, no expectations and expecting the worst are two different things.”
“The outcome’s the same, though, right? You’re never disappointed, even if you’re wrong.”
Ember looked at the halfling over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose. “That’s not how you think about the world.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Cheyenne shrugged it off and wheeled her friend toward where she’d parked the Panamera in the apartment complex’s huge parking lot. That doesn’t make Mom’s motto any less accurate. Everything comes with a price. “Assuming he is genuinely a nice person, I still say he’s trying to get something out of it.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
They reached the car, and Cheyenne locked the chair’s wheels before unlocking the car with that perfect little chirp and opening the passenger side door. “I mean, to get in your pants, for one thing.”
“Oh, my God.” Ember rolled her eyes and braced herself against the chair. “Stop talking and help me get in the car.”
“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t caught onto that by now.”
Ember laughed. “We’re not having this conversation. Not right now.”
“Uh-huh. Because then you’d tell me that you’re totally into it.”
“Do I have to make this transfer myself?”
Cheyenne snorted and bent down to assist her best friend into the car.
She pulled into the parking lot on Union Hill ten minutes before 6:00 p.m. As she unfolded the wheelchair and locked it up beside Ember’s door, Cheyenne found herself glancing around for a car that looked like it could have come straight out of a time machine from the ‘50s.