The Drow There and Nothing More (Goth Drow Book 3)

by Martha Carr

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Yeesh.” Rolling her eyes, Lumil grunted and heaved herself out of the recliner. “You guys go ahead and get all serious. I gotta hit the can.”

  Cheyenne jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Right under the loft. Which is off-limits.”

  The goblin scoffed and headed that way. “You nerds and your fancy private systems. Don’t worry, kid. I’m not even a little interested.”

  Corian stared after her as she sidled between him and the coffee table before heading straight for the door beneath the mini-loft. Once it closed behind her, he returned his attention to Cheyenne and Ember. “Have either of you heard the term Nós Aní?”

  Ember cocked her head. “I’m a third-generation Earthside fae. All I heard was gibberish, and anyone in my family who might know what that means wouldn’t tell me if you held a knife to their throat.”

  The nightstalker glanced at her legs and nodded. “Because they think you’re useless.”

  “Pretty much. But that was true a long time before this chair came along.”

  “They’re wrong.”

  Ember glanced at Cheyenne and pointed at Corian. “Did you tell him?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll take a wild guess and assume that for the first time in your life, you can finally tap into your magic.”

  Ember cleared her throat. “You’re really creepy, you know that?”

  “Must be my nature.” Corian’s tight smile bristled into a grimace. “And I saw the little stunt you pulled getting into that chair ten minutes ago.”

  “Well, I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Ember spread her arms and shrugged. “What does it mean, then? Nós Annie.”

  “Nós Aní,” Cheyenne muttered. “That’s what he is.”

  Corian and Ember looked at her in surprise, and the nightstalker frowned. “Who told you that?”

  “No one. I put two and two together all on my own like a big kid.” Cheyenne leaned back against the corner of the armrest and the couch cushion. “And yeah, I’ve heard the term before.”

  “I hope it didn’t come with any unnecessary embellishments I’ll have to teach you to unlearn. Or stories about me that might not be true.”

  “It didn’t have anything to do with you, Corian.” Cheyenne tipped her head toward Ember. “The guy who brought it up was talking about her.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Okay, but what does it mean?” Ember asked, leaning forward to better insert herself into the conversation.

  “It’s like a captain’s first mate, Em. Or a second in command.”

  “A what?”

  Corian scratched the side of his fur-covered face. “That’s oversimplifying it quite a bit. But in a nutshell, sure, I suppose it’s fairly accurate.”

  “You know what?” Ember rolled away from the coffee table and wheeled around the back of the couch. She stopped on the other side of the coffee table, the chair’s front wheels rolling silently onto the black and silver area rug, and slapped her hands down on the armrests. “If I’m suddenly the topic of another cryptic conversation, I’m not listening to it from the other side of the room.”

  Corian nodded. “That’s fair. It’s a drow term for essentially what Cheyenne described. Something of a best friend. The rest of it’s a little more complicated.”

  “I can handle complicated.” Ember gestured around their living room. “Obviously.”

  “It’s interesting that someone else named Ember your Nós Aní before we did. Officially, at least.” Corian glanced from one girl to the other and raised his eyebrows. “Who was it?”

  “One of the staff at Ember’s PT clinic.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  “No, really, Em.” Cheyenne nodded at her friend. “It was before either of us knew your magic was coming back or that any of this craziness was about to come down on us. The guy was all coy about it, too. Said I’d made a good choice and that they’d take care of you while you’re recovering.”

  Ember blinked, opened her mouth, and tried a second time to get words out. “You’re telling me there are magicals working at that clinic, and I didn’t pick up on it.”

  “Yeah. Your doctor’s one of them. I don’t know what she is, but I bet that’s part of what makes her so good at her job.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Cheyenne shook her head. “There wasn’t a lot of time. Then everything else happened, and it got pushed into the corner.”

  “Well, I’m seriously glad I know now before I go back in tomorrow.”

  “No. You can’t go back in there.”

  Ember’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

  “I do if I’m the one taking you.”

  “I’ll pay someone else to do it!”

  Cheyenne lurched forward on the couch, leaning toward her friend’s face. “That asshole at the clinic was the one who brought up the Nós Aní thing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had something to do with stealing your blood from the hospital so all those damn machine-bugs could hunt you down.”

  “My blood?”

  “We think that’s how the digger found you in Peridosh,” Corian clarified calmly. His gaze flickered toward Cheyenne when she pushed herself off the couch and started pacing behind it. “Someone got the word out about your connection to Cheyenne. They didn’t have a better way to lock onto her directly, so they picked the next best magical.”

  “That’s insane. I can’t even do anything.” Ember watched her friend’s agitated pacing and shook her head. “I’m the least threatening person involved in this.”

  “But you are involved, and as Cheyenne’s Nos Aní, you’re a lot more threatening than you might think.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” Cheyenne pounded her fist on the back of the couch. “I knew something was up in that clinic, but the minute he started talking about taking care of you, I let myself ignore it.”

  “Did you get his name?”

  “Marsil. He told me to pass along some kind of sworn-fealty message to L’zar from House Keldryk.”

  Corian rubbed his chin. “That doesn’t sound like one of the Crown’s zealots.”

  “Well, he sure as shit didn’t look like a magical, but he’s fooling the rest of the world about that too. I handed him what he wanted to hear on a silver platter.”

  “We don’t have any proof that this Marsil of House Keldryk was the one who exposed Ember.”

  “I don’t need proof. Who the hell else could know?”

  “That information could’ve gotten out anywhere, just like word of you passing your trials. Just like the Crown’s Earthside loyalists knowing she’s looking for you and wants you taken out of the picture. She’s got eyes and ears everywhere, Cheyenne. You can’t jump to conclusions and assume everyone’s lying to you.”

  “That’s the only way to survive!” The halfling swung an open hand at the back of the couch and sent it scooting across the floor until the area rug bunched up beneath the coffee table. With a growl, she kept pacing along the same track, purple sparks flaring at her fingertips. Do I really believe that?

  “You know that’s not the only way,” Corian muttered. “Things are complicated, kid, and they’re only going to get more complicated for both of you from here on out. I promise I’ll help you find whoever’s responsible for putting Ember’s name out there and setting those trackers on her. I give you my word on that.”

  Cheyenne took a deep breath and killed the purple sparks. “I’ll hold you to it. I wanna start with that Marsil guy.”

  “Sure. Gently.” Corian nodded. “Tomorrow. Tonight, neither of you are leaving this apartment, which might just be the safest place for either of you once we’re finished.”

  “Yeah.” Cheyenne nodded, slowed her pacing, and set her hands on the back of the couch. “Yeah, okay. That’s the most important thing right now.”

  “Yes, it
is.”

  “All right.” Persh’al clapped his hands and headed toward them from Ember’s room. “Definitely diggers, so we’ll have to build the base around structural reinforcements and add extra repulsion layers on top of that. Maybe throw up a few good system-wide shocks just for fun. You know, boom.” He mimed an explosion with his empty hand as he dropped the drawstring bag back into the duffel bag.

  “You’re still talking about wards, right?”

  Persh’al winked at Cheyenne and grinned. “You’d be surprised how much wards and firewalls have in common, kid.”

  A loud, tuneless humming came from the other side of the bathroom door. All heads turned in that direction.

  Persh’al grimaced. “How long has she been in there?”

  “Pretty much the whole time.” Cheyenne closed her eyes and walked around the side of the couch to slump down onto it again.

  “Hmm. That’s not gonna be fun.” The troll nodded at Corian. “We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

  “Great.” The nightstalker pushed out of the recliner, casting a final wary glance at the bathroom door.

  “Hold on.” Ember reached toward him. “I wanna know what you meant by ‘more complicated.’”

  “And you will. We’ll make time for that conversation later, Ember. Just not right now.” Corian grabbed his box of supplies off the coffee table as Persh’al squatted in front of the duffel bag and took out handfuls of whatever he needed to cast their multi-layered wards.

  The fae shot Cheyenne an irritated glance and shook her head. “So, what? We’re just supposed to sit here and watch them reinforce the structural whatever?”

  “I guess so. I’m kinda hoping I learn something.”

  “Then you better pay attention, kid.” Persh’al placed different-colored stones two feet apart along the wall of windows. “We work fast.”

  Almost an hour later, Persh’al withdrew the O’gúl hornet’s web from the hardened leather case and held it up to the light. “Man, I’ve always wanted to use one of these.”

  “Well, you know, I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.” Cheyenne smirked when he glanced at her.

  “I’m sure that special occasion had nothing to do with finding someone who knows what to do with it,” Corian added.

  She stared at him and blinked slowly. “Of course not.”

  “All right, here we go. Ready to amp up the power grid, goblin?”

  Lumil scowled at Persh’al and raised her hands. In one, she held the telescope-looking thing, and a bundle of twisted wires flashing a multitude of different colors dangled from the other. “I feel like a circus clown.”

  “Not too far off.” Persh’al chuckled and returned his attention to the hornet’s web. The rare ingredient turned slowly at the end of the twine he held, the red and black threads of the web glinting in the light. “You’re just grounding the power.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay, so come on. Up.”

  Rolling her eyes, Lumil raised her nameless items until they hung on either side of her face.

  “Perfect.” Persh’al looked at Cheyenne and wiggled his neon-orange eyebrows. “The finishing touch, kid, then we’ll be outta your hair. For tonight, anyway.”

  Corian pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time.

  Squinting at the Ogúl hornet’s web, Persh’al lifted it until it spun in front of his face and muttered an incantation under his breath. Then he flicked his finger against the center of the web. A bright red light flashed from the dangling circle of woven threads, followed by a loud crack. The wards they’d placed around the apartment showed as layers of shimmering light, wavering one on top of the other along every wall, doorframe, and window.

  When the light died seconds later, Persh’al chuckled. “Exactly how I imagined it. Now we just gotta find a good place to—oh. That’ll work.” He hooked the top of looped twine over an extending curl of the wrought-iron rail surrounding the mini-loft, then stepped back to take in the finished product. “I like it.”

  “Not conspicuous at all,” Cheyenne muttered.

  “It doesn’t matter. No one’s stepping into this apartment unless either of you explicitly invites them in.” Corian wagged his finger back and forth between Cheyenne and Ember. “And I highly recommend that you don’t hand out invitations for a while.”

  “What about you guys?”

  “We built the wards, kid.” Persh’al spread his arms as he headed toward his duffel bag on the other side of the room. “That’s an extended membership. Plus, none of us is driving all the way out here from DC to knock on your front door. Why do you think we keep a nightstalker around? Hey, give me those things, will ya? You look like someone’s failed sculpture attempt.”

  Lumil glared at him and tossed both items at his chest. Persh’al caught them and stuffed his tools gently into the duffel bag. “As long as that web’s hanging in one piece right there, these wards’ll hold forever, theoretically.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t need them forever.” Cheyenne handed Corian his re-packed cardboard box as he passed her to join Lumil and Persh’al.

  “I don’t think you will. But this is a good start, and the wards will hold.” He nodded at her and tucked the box under his arm.

  “Hey, before you go,” Cheyenne rubbed the back of her neck and scanned the top of the wall of windows behind them. “Is there any kinda spell that checks for hidden tech like cameras or tiny microphones?”

  Corian’s silver eyes narrowed.

  “The paranoia’s finally gettin’ to you, huh?” Persh’al smirked.

  “No.” She raised her eyebrows at him and offered a tight, sarcastic smile. “This apartment was a demo before we moved in. I just wanna make sure no one’s watching the old-fashioned way, either.”

  Ember shot her a questioning glance, and the halfling shrugged.

  “Yeah, okay.” Persh’al sniffed and stood behind his duffel bag. He closed his eyes, lifted his hand in front of him like he was about to throw an invisible frisbee, and twisted his fingers in quick succession. Then he snapped his wrist and made a throwing motion before opening his hand.

  The energy behind his spell washed over Cheyenne like a chilly breeze, making her skin tingle.

  The troll slowly scanned the living room and shrugged. “Looks clean to me. But if there is anything in here, it’ll show up purple.”

  “Okay.” Cheyenne nodded slowly, gazing around the room to check for herself. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He hefted the duffel bag.

  “Get some sleep,” Corian said. “That’s all you need to focus on for now. And tomorrow, we’ll get our answers.”

  “Right.”

  Ember raised her hand in a brief wave. “Thanks for showing up when you did. And beefing up security.”

  The corners of Corian’s mouth twitched. “It’s the least we could do.”

  Lumil snorted. “Don’t lie to her, man.”

  The nightstalker ignored her and focused on opening a portal into the warehouse. Then he waited for Persh’al and Lumil to step through before he nodded one last time at Cheyenne and disappeared. The portal closed, and Cheyenne sank back into the couch.

  “This has to have been the longest day of my life.”

  Ember ran a hand through her hair. “He just told us to get some sleep.”

  They looked at each other and chuckled wryly. “No way in hell am I gonna be able to fall asleep right now.”

  “I’m gonna have to take the couch. I think they skipped the cleanup in my room.”

  “Sorry, Em.”

  “Hey, having to pick up shattered machine bits is a lot better than someone else having to clean up scattered fae parts. I’ll get to it eventually, but I am not sleeping in there tonight.” Ember snatched the remote off the coffee table, aimed it at the entryway table to lift the TV out of its slot, and dropped it in her lap. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’m falling asleep with the TV on.”

  A
s she wheeled around the couch again toward her usual show-streaming spot, Cheyenne slapped her thighs. “We still have ice cream, right?”

  “At least two more pints.”

  The halfling stood and headed for the kitchen. “I’m on it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The next morning, Cheyenne managed to slip out of her bedroom, hop into the shower, and get halfway through drawing on another layer of thick black eyeliner before Ember stirred on the couch.

  “What time is it?” The fae groaned and pushed herself up against the armrest.

  “Nine-fifty.” Cheyenne leaned closer to the mirror and smudged her eye makeup around a little before nodding. Won’t find this on a makeup tutorial. Smokey-eye in five seconds, ‘cause I couldn’t care less. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ember blinked.

  “Woah. You look fancy.”

  “Yeah, right.” Her hair was almost dry, so she pulled it away from her face and started on a loose braid. “This is my ‘just got attacked by O’gúl war machines and had wards put up around my apartment before going to teach an undergrad class’ look.”

  Ember snorted. “You make it seem so effortless.”

  “Well, I try.” Tying off her finished braid, the halfling grabbed her black Vans from where she’d kicked them off by the couch the night before and jammed her feet into them. “You know, yesterday, I couldn’t figure out why Maleshi would go back to campus and pretend to be a professor with everything that’s going on right now.”

  “She is a professor.”

  “Sure, but not really. I get it now, though. The normal things are all that’s left when everything else turns to shit.”

  Ember folded her arms and sat back against the armrest. “Not everything.”

  “Okay, fine. Slight exaggeration. But if I didn’t have something to do right now, I have a feeling I’d go looking for trouble. I’ve recognized a pattern with that.”

  “I thought it was more like trouble finding you.”

  Cheyenne slung her backpack over her shoulder and cocked her head. “We can call it a fifty-fifty split. You need anything?”