by Martha Carr
“Sorry.” Cheyenne stepped carefully over the scattered books on the floor. “I’m just gonna go take care of that thing.”
The machine outside in the main avenue skittered across the stone floor amidst the shouts of the underground magicals as they tried to fight it off.
The bookshelf beside Cheyenne groaned and started to tip forward. She braced her hand against it and shoved it back against the wall. But she misjudged the force of her drow strength, and the frame of the wooden bookshelf splintered against the stone wall. The shelves buckled, books toppled to the ground, and the halfling stepped quickly away before she could do any more damage. “Sorry. I’m just trying to help.”
A skaxen and two goblins flew past the shattered window of the bookstore, screaming as they hurtled across the marketplace and crashed into someone else’s shop.
Cheyenne pointed outside and glanced briefly at the old troll woman.
She hurried across the book-littered floor, trying not to slip on any of the volumes and break her neck in the process. The shopkeeper didn’t say a word.
Once she made it into the wide avenue again, Cheyenne pushed her way through the crowd, darting around fleeing magicals as they rushed in a flowing tide toward the other end of Peridosh. The machine creature clicked and whirred, skittering across the stone and tossing aside everything in its path. It moved so quickly now that sparks flew from those hooked metallic legs scrabbling on the floor. Then it lurched forward with a shrieking scrape as it slid across the stone. Purple and orange sparks flew against its back, and the machine creature turned to aim its flashing black and silver lights at Tate, Yurik, and a screaming Bhandi.
All three FRoE agents pelted the thing with their magical attacks, and it didn’t make a difference. The machine spat a volley of green fire at each of them, then leaped onto the wall and crawled upside-down along the tunnel like a spider—toward Cheyenne.
Magic isn’t gonna bring that thing down, at least not that way.
The halfling watched the machine skitter toward her overhead and reached out with her earth manipulation. Her fingers hooked around that pressure in the air, and she pulled at the wall of the tunnel. Huge chunks of stone burst from the ceiling, but the mechanical creature kept coming.
Change of tactics, then.
Cheyenne glanced at the open stone floor in front of her and gauged the machine’s speed. She waited until the last second, when it hung upside down right in front of her, ready to launch itself at her, then hooked her powers around the tension she felt in the earth beneath her instead and pulled it apart. The stone floor of Peridosh buckled and spread open in front of her as the insectoid machine dropped toward her.
Slipping into drow speed, Cheyenne stepped back and sent black tendrils whipping from both hands. They coiled around the mechanical creature, which struggled against the bonds of her magic in real-time but didn’t have the means to save itself from its slow-motion fall.
With a shout of intense effort, she tugged the creature to the ground with all the force she could muster, falling on one knee to carry through with the momentum. The second the machine hit the stone and the foot-wide crack running through it, Cheyenne slipped out of her enhanced speed, released her tendrils, and pushed down with her magic.
The machine’s hooked legs scratched at the floor as it tried to right itself, but it couldn’t get to its feet again before the half-drow’s magic curled around the crack in the earth and split it wider. With another grating screech, the metal beast braced its legs on either side of the chasm opening around it, sparing two of those metal claws to try to pull itself back to the surface.
A ball of green flame spewed from its beak and nearly caught the halfling square in the face. Cheyenne ducked and snarled, trying to squeeze the earth back into place around her inorganic attacker.
“Just fucking go down!” She brought her arm up in a wide, curving arc like she meant to strike the thing with a hammer. With her magic still tightly gripping the earth’s energy, one side of the chasm lurched against the other when her fist hit the stone floor. Rocks and metal parts and tiny gears burst from the crack before both edges folded in on each other, crashing down and down, burying the metal beast in a puff of dust and a stream of thick black smoke.
The whirring gears and clicks slowed and fell silent within seconds.
Cheyenne paused, waiting for that rumbling sound to start up again. All she heard were a few pebbles clacking down the sides of the chasm as they fell and the heavy, tensely waiting breath of over a hundred magicals spending their Tuesday night in Peridosh.
Chapter Nineteen
After catching her breath, Cheyenne slowly pushed herself up off her knee and stepped cautiously toward the chasm she’d created and mostly sealed again. She glanced at the closest magicals staring at her in awe and admiration and shrugged. “I wouldn’t get too close to all this.”
Someone barked a laugh and quickly covered it.
She walked around the jutting destruction in the middle of the marketplace’s avenue and stopped to pick up a piece of one metallic black leg that had been pinched off. Then she grabbed one of the odd-looking gears that still flashed a muted silver light and stuck that in her pocket. I know exactly who’s gonna tell me what the hell this thing was and why it was here.
Her black Vans whispered across the dust-covered stone as she skirted around the staring awestruck magicals lining the storefronts. They were still pressed against each other to get out the way, but now they were avoiding the halfling who looked like a full drow, not the inexplicable metal monster.
Cheyenne found Ember right where she’d left her and crouched beside her friend. “You okay?”
The fae blinked quickly and leaned forward to stare at the crumpled mess of earth down the tunnel. “I’ve just been sitting here. Are you okay?”
“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Smirking, Cheyenne turned and found Yurik. “Hey. Bring her chair, huh?”
The goblin dragged a palm across his forehead and glanced at the destruction over the buried machine, then darted toward the other side of the avenue to grab the wheelchair.
“What the hell did that thing want?” Ember stared at Yurik as he half-rolled, half-carried the wheelchair toward them.
“Mass destruction. A pile of bodies.” Cheyenne shrugged and slipped one arm around Ember’s back while the other hooked under her friend’s knees. “I’m not trying to sound cocky or anything, but there’s a good chance it was here for me.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”
With a snort, Cheyenne lowered Ember into her chair and nodded. “At least you’re not scattered all over the ground too.”
“I’m pretty grateful for that.” Ember grabbed the armrests and shifted into a more comfortable position. Without thinking about it, she kicked one heel against the footrest and shoved herself farther back into the chair. Then she froze. “Holy shit.”
“Did you just straighten that leg by yourself?”
Ember’s mouth opened and closed without any sound as she stared at her foot. “If you saw it, I’m not hallucinating.”
“I hope not.” Cheyenne grinned. “Somebody said something about fae being great healers, didn’t they?”
The fae girl barked a laugh and gripped her wheels. “One step closer, I guess. Sort of.”
“Hell yeah, you are. We can freak out about that later. Right now, I think we need to—”
A single hollow bang echoed through Peridosh. The halfling straightened and shot an exasperated glance at the orc with his fist hovering over a metal shop door. He pounded it again, then again, and the other O’gúleesh lined up along the avenue picked up the same rhythm. They hit and kicked and thumped their fists against anything metal they could find, throwing up an earsplitting ruckus.
“Woah.” Ember stared at them. “What’s happening?”
“No clue. Come on.” Cheyenne turned toward the back end of the tunnel and the waiting elevator.
Ember and the FRoE age
nts followed, and the metallic banging rattled the air even faster.
“Okay, I get it!” Cheyenne whirled around and spread her arms, gazing over the eager faces of the magicals giving her an O’gúleesh standing ovation. “Woohoo. Yeah! Let’s hit stuff!”
She snatched up a broad, shallow metal bowl that had somehow been left untouched on a skaxen’s table and thumped her fist against it several times. When she dropped it back onto the table and rolled her eyes, the skaxen pressing himself against the wall of the shop behind him threw his head back and cackled. His fist kept thumping the metal door beside him anyway. The laughter was picked up by a handful of other magicals as they stomped and punched and smacked their approval.
Shaking her head, Cheyenne turned back toward the end of the tunnel and rolled her eyes. When she caught up with Ember, the fae laughed and shot her a sidelong glance. “You look like an insane person.”
“Guess it runs in the drow side of the family.” The halfling shot a skeptical glance over her shoulder. Even the O’gúleesh who stared at her with terrified eyes instead of flashing her eager grins kept pounding away on whatever metal they had at hand. “I’m sick of them doing this every single time, and I have no idea what it means.”
“Sounds like applause.”
“Well, clapping and whistling and maybe not looking at me like I’m a walking piece of meat would be a hell of a lot less creepy.”
Tate jogged to catch up with them, and Yurik turned to follow the halfling and her friend. “Does this happen everywhere you go?”
“Only when there are a bunch of O’gúleesh around. You know, the ones who weren’t born here.”
“So weird.” The troll man turned to frown at the magicals still pounding on steel and silver and iron. “Oh, shit. Bhandi! What the hell are you doing?”
Bhandi had found someone else’s private tankard of whatever booze they preferred and was knocking it back. She chugged and pumped her fist in the air with the same rhythm, which also happened to match the loud rhythm of so many fists and boots hitting metal.
“Seriously?” Yurik raced toward her, snatched the tankard out of her hand, and set it down on the table. “Sorry.”
The grinning orc didn’t even look at the tankard. He didn’t seem to notice Bhandi at all as he held his metal folding chair in one hand and smashed his fist into it over and over, enlarging the dent in the seat with each blow. And he stared at Cheyenne.
“They’re not cheering for you, you damn drunk.” Yurik spun Bhandi around by the shoulders and nudged her toward the end of the tunnel.
“Hey, I’m gonna do me. Those losers can cheer for any losers!” Her arm swung back behind her to point at the crowd. “Fuck ‘em.”
Rolling his eyes, Yurik grabbed a fistful of the back of her black leather jacket right below the collar and half-carried, half-dragged the inebriated troll woman with him toward the elevator. Tate, Cheyenne, and Ember were waiting for them.
“Hey.” Bhandi reeled away from Ember and pointed at her. “You’re a damn fae.”
“And you’re trashed.”
“Nah.” The troll woman blew a raspberry and staggered past all of them the second the elevator doors opened. “I’m Bhandi.” Her fists slammed into the steel wall before her face had a chance to do the same.
Yurik glanced at Tate and raised his hand. “Not me.”
“Me neither. If she can’t walk when we get back to base, I’m pullin’ her outta the car and leavin’ her ass in the parking lot.”
The rest of their group entered the elevator. Ember’s wheels flashed purple as she glided over the bumpy metal strip, then the doors closed. When the elevator shuddered and lurched into its ascent, Bhandi’s eyes bulged in her head. She leaned forward and puffed out her cheeks.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Tate growled. “Not here.”
A garbled moan escaped the troll woman, then she let out another belch with a few green fellwine bubbles. They floated around her face, popping quickly, and she watched them until she went cross-eyed. “This was the shittiest night we’ve ever had down here. I’m just sayin’ right now while I can still…” Her eyelids and head drooped at the same time, then she jerked her head back up with a gasp. “Nothing happened.”
“What?” Yurik laughed sharply. “Where were you the whole time that metal spider was tearing apart the market?”
“Spider? I didn’t see a spuckin’ fider.”
Tate bowed his head and covered his eyes with one hand.
Cheyenne chuckled. “She didn’t drink that much, either. I mean, for her. What the hell was in that fellwine?”
“Huh.” Yurik stared at the opposite wall of the elevator and leaned back. He chuckled, and it grew into a full-blown belly laugh. Tate looked up from his palm and shot Cheyenne a confused glance. When the huge goblin finally settled enough to talk again, he smashed a fist into his other hand. “Shit. Ogsa knew this fae wasn’t gonna touch that cup. I bet my entire Polaroid collection the orc spiked it for fun.”
Tate’s scarlet eyes flashed when the realization hit him, and he grinned. “Oh, shit. She slipped Bhandi a magical roofie.”
“’Cause who the hell else would drink fellwine with two full pitchers of grog lying around?” Yurik punched Tate’s shoulder. “We’re both smart enough to leave that shit alone.”
“Ha! And it was free!” The troll man nodded at Bhandi, who’d sagged against the elevator wall and now stared at her raised fists, squinting one eye and then the other over and over.
“Damn. No wonder that tavern’s been down there since the very beginning. Ogsa knows how to play.”
“I’ll show you,” Bhandi muttered, then brought one fist cracking against the other with full force. It knocked her elbow into the corner of the elevator with a loud bang, and the rest of her followed until her forehead smashed into the steel wall. “Fuck.”
The guys cracked up again. Cheyenne pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh at the troll woman struggling to get her footing. Bhandi smacked her forehead, glanced down at her palm, and chuckled.
“She’s gone, man.”
“Might be some rope in the back of the SUV.” Yurik shrugged. “We could tie her up and lead her into the building. Get her in her bunk, at least, and lock the door from the outside so she can’t get out.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Tate shook his head. “And good luck not getting your throat slit when you’re the one who has to let her out in the morning.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe the parking lot’s better.”
Ember sat up from leaning over her lap and opened her eyes. “It wasn’t a spider.”
Yurik chuckled. “Oh, yeah.”
“I mean, besides it being a machine.” The fae shrugged. “It only had six legs.”
“Five, now.” Cheyenne lifted the broken metal leg, which looked a lot like a crowbar covered in black paint.
“Huh.” Tate shook his head and stared at the glistening machine part. “It’s creepy that you took that. You know that, right?”
The halfling turned the black rod this way and that, watching it catch the elevator’s bright overhead lights. “That whole thing was creepy.”
“But that’s your whole deal, isn’t it?” Yurik gestured at her. “Goth drow and everything. No wonder you knew how to smash that thing to pieces.”
“Me being Goth doesn’t mean I know what this is.”
“So why’d you take it?” Tate folded his arms. When Bhandi’s fist smashed into the wall inches from his head, he leaned out of the way and didn’t break the halfling’s gaze.
“I don’t know. I’m good at figuring out how things work.” Cheyenne lowered the leg to her side again and wiggled her eyebrows. “And I guess I just wanted a souvenir.”
“You would.” The troll man shook his head with a smirk. “And when you find out how that thing works, I’m guessing you’re not gonna tell any of us about it.”
“Probably not. I mean, not unless this thing turns out to be some kinda FRoE trac
ker hunting off-duty agents, then sure. Maybe I’ll let you in on it.”
“Yeah, thanks for lookin’ out, halfling. You’re a real part of the team.” Yurik snorted and stared at the piece of metal dangling beside her thigh. “If that thing’s supposed to hunt FRoE, it was broken. Didn’t even notice us until we started flinging magic.”
“It didn’t seem to have a target, did it?” Which doesn’t make any sense. Neither does it waking up to fight back when I was in drow speed.
Chapter Twenty
The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the doors opened to reveal the Employees Only door on the other side.
“Oh, shit.” Tate reached into his pocket and almost dropped his black illusion ring before jamming it onto his finger. His violet skin and scarlet eyes faded to tan and brown, though the tattoos remained. “Dude, we gotta get her mask.”
“Her what?”
Cheyenne looked down at Ember and wiggled her fingers, then slipped back into her human form. “Illusion charm.”
“Oh.” The fae stuck her hand in the pocket of her jacket and slipped off her illusion charm.
The halfling watched the fingers of Ember’s other hand move uselessly in her lap. She’s tipsy, but she’s keeping up a good front.
Ember’s pink and violet coloring faded into her regular human-looking-fae form. While Yurik struggled to pull Bhandi away from the wall, Tate turned toward Cheyenne with a grimace. “Can you, like, make sure we don’t get stuck in this elevator or something?”
“Yep.” Cheyenne cracked the door open and peered around the froyo shop. “Hey, Joe.”
The grumpy man behind the counter shot her an expressionless glare that rivaled the half-drow’s. “What?”
“We’re having a little trouble in here. Can you come here for a sec?”
Joe glanced blandly around the front of his store and blinked. “I don’t leave this goddamn counter until this place closes, which is pretty much never. But there’s no one here anyway. What’s your problem this time?”