by Martha Carr
He shook his head and waved her off. “Longer than it should’ve been. We’ve been busy, kid. You know that.”
“Sounds like we should’ve dropped that little nugget of information at the beginning of this stupid meeting.” When Persh’al only shrugged in response, Cheyenne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. L’zar left a shitstorm behind him to start a new one Earthside. They need to smooth out the kinks in this process.
Chapter Fifty
“How much do you know about General Hi’et?” the black-and-red magical shouted over the din.
“Not as much as I thought until a few days ago.” Cheyenne shook her head. “But enough to know that you’re following the path she started before she left. Maleshi’s fighting for Earth and Ambar’ogúl from the other side. If anyone still thinks Earth isn’t worth saving after that, you shouldn’t be here.”
Foltr let out a harsh, croaking laugh that made everyone quiet down again.
Cheyenne leaned away from him in her chair and eyed him. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny.”
The raug gurgled out more laughter and wheezed, wiping spittle from the underside of his quivering gray chin. “Maleshi, is it?”
“Yeah. We’ve been on a first-name basis for a while.” With me mostly calling her Mattie, but they don’t need to know that.
“It would seem so.” The old raug chuckled again and pointed at her with a crooked orange-clawed finger. “Forget what these fools think they know about what we’ve been waiting to see, Aranél. You’ve brought a new future to this aged raug at the end of his days.”
“Nah.” Persh’al waved off the comment. “You’ve got at least another thousand years left in you.”
Nu’ek snorted. “By the Veil, I hope not.”
The gathered party broke into unrestrained laughter, this time without the weight of doubt and wary indecision. The raug chuckled with them and closed his eyes.
When the noise died down again, the magicals returned their attention to Cheyenne. Some of them smiled. The rest looked less tense.
If the old raug approves, the rest of them follow. Good to know.
“So, the pieces are in play on both sides.” The troll woman with the chain dangling across her face gestured at Persh’al. “If the Crown is taking the war to Earth, she won’t stop even if he and his daughter make it to the Rahalma.”
“Not if,” Cheyenne added quickly. “When.”
Persh’al shot her a wide-eyed glance, and she shrugged. Yeah, I’ve already committed this far. Might as well go the whole mile.
“Of course.” The troll woman dipped her head with a small, secretive smile. “When you stand at the Rahalma. But how much will that truly change?”
Persh’al scratched his head. “L’zar seems to think that’s the endgame. I have to agree with him.”
“So, he will bring the war back to the blackened heart of Ambar’ogúl,” Foltr muttered. “With a daughter who defied the mysteries of prophecy.”
“Something like that, yeah.”
Cheyenne couldn’t look away from the old raug’s glowing orange eyes. Why do I feel like I’m not getting the whole picture?
“Then we’ll fight.” The black-tusked orc pounded his fist on the table again and nodded. “Right where we are. I’ve been sitting on this fell-damned oath for centuries, and I mean to see it through.”
“Good choice.” Persh’al pointed at him and grinned. “Go through those cases, huh? We have things to wrap up Earthside, but L’zar will be here as soon as he’s finished working out the kinks. Then you’ll know what to do. We still have the territories on our side?”
“Last we heard, Simmara and Teridól still wait for us to send word. Ki’uali is harder to reach, but we have no reason to think they’d turn back now.”
“Right.” The blue troll slapped his hands on the table and stood. “I think we covered pretty much everything.” He nodded at Cheyenne and added, “Get ready for the long ride home, kid.”
“You’re leaving already?” the troll woman asked, raising an eyebrow.
A pained frown flickered across Persh’al’s brows when he looked at her. “As much as I’d love to stay, Elarit, this was only supposed to be a day trip.”
She shot him a brief, unamused smile. “Pity.”
“Hmm.” He forced himself to look away from her before plastering another smile on his face and aiming it at Nu’ek. “I’m assuming you can get us back out without too much trouble?”
The golra folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten who built these tunnels.”
“Me? Nah. Long memory, golra. Doesn’t mean I memorized the map, though.”
Nu’ek snorted and turned away from the table to head across the massive chamber.
Cheyenne stood as multiple conversations picked up again, the impromptu meeting apparently over. A rough, leathery-feeling hand wrapped around her wrist, and she looked quickly down at the old raug sitting beside her.
“You will be prepared, Aranél,” he muttered. “L’zar has always been a thorn in the Crown’s side, but you, I think, will be the blade.”
Gúrdu’s voice came back to her. “Cut out the heart, cut out the rot. The shackles of the old laws rise. For the last scion, it is destiny or chains.”
Taking a deep breath, Cheyenne nodded. “I hope so.”
“Oh, yes.” Foltr chuckled and released her arm. “Yes, we all do.”
He closed his eyes and said nothing more, which Cheyenne took as a sign that she’d been dismissed. She slung her pack over her shoulder and headed around the table as the magicals stood. Some of them nodded at her before returning to their conversations. The halfling felt their eyes on her when she wasn’t looking, but no one blatantly watched her anymore.
Yeah, take a good long look at L’zar’s halfling kid who wasn’t supposed to exist.
She found Persh’al on the other side of the chamber, locked in an intense but quiet conversation with the troll woman with the silver chain across her face. He kept leaning closer, trying to convince her of something, but Elarit wasn’t having any of it. When she caught sight of Cheyenne, she pressed her hand against Persh’al’s chest, and he immediately stopped. “Your time’s up, ma gairín.”
“What?” Persh’al followed her glance and saw Cheyenne standing there, watching him with a blank expression. “Oh. Yeah. You ready?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry.” He chuckled and stepped back. “This is—”
“Elarit Masharun.” The troll woman’s lips twitched into a smile as she studied Cheyenne with scarlet eyes. “I don’t expect you to remember the name once you leave, Aranél. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Persh’al made a choking sound and leaned toward Elarit. “Come on. That’s not fair.”
She ignored him.
“Nice to meet you.” Out of pure habit, Cheyenne extended her hand. The troll woman stared at it blankly.
“It’s an Earth thing,” Persh’al muttered and waved Cheyenne’s hand aside.
“That activator isn’t,” Elarit said and slowly lifted her gaze from the web of metal strands around Cheyenne’s hand to the halfling’s face. “Did Persh’al buy you that toy?”
Cheyenne bit back a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Hmm. That’s what I thought. He’s always been cheap when it comes to gifts.”
Persh’al snorted. “Wait a minute!”
Elarit shot him a knowing glance and pulled a small coil of silver from the pocket of her flowing skirts. She nodded and offered it to Cheyenne. “You’ll have a lot more fun with this.”
“What is it?” The halfling took it, turning the coil over in her fingers.
“An upgrade. When you’re out of our mandatory dark zone down here, put it behind your ear.” The troll woman winked.
“Thanks.”
“We’re going right back to the Border,” Persh’al said quickly. “She won’t be able to use it.”
“I can build another with my eyes c
losed, Persh’al.” Elarit cut her gaze toward him and tilted her head. “She’ll want to see what these can do, and the way you’re headed will give her plenty of time.”
He grunted and rubbed the back of his neck, then finally nodded at Cheyenne. “All right. You can keep it.”
The halfling snorted. “I don’t need your permission for that.”
Elarit laughed and folded her arms. “You certainly don’t.”
“Okay, everybody laugh at the troll trying to make things right. Very helpful.” When Elarit’s smile disappeared, he pointed at Nu’ek, who was standing by one of the only two tunnels cut into the chamber walls that were big enough for a golra to pass through. “Go tell her I’ll be right there, huh? I need another minute.’
Cheyenne glanced at the trolls and gently slipped Elarit’s activator into her pocket. “Sure. Just don’t take too long.”
“I’ll take as long as I need, kid. Go mind your own business.”
With a curt nod and a barely hidden smile, Cheyenne gave Elarit a silent goodbye and turned to join Nu’ek at the other end of the chamber. Looks like I crashed a private troll party.
The golra snorted when Cheyenne stopped a few feet away, and they both watched Persh’al plead with Elarit in hushed tones for something she wouldn’t give him.
“Is that what it looks like?”
Nu’ek glanced down at the halfling and raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea what it looks like to you.”
“It looks like that troll expected somebody to wait a couple hundred years for him, and he came back a couple hundred years too late.”
“Then it’s exactly what it looks like.” Nu’ek chuckled, her folded arms bouncing against her stomach. She scratched a bicep covered in a strip of wiry red fur, which sounded like dry leaves being raked across dead grass. “Those two have been playing that game for so long, we’re all sick of watching it, even with the relatively long breaks in between. She’ll give in eventually, and when she does, I’ll be the first to lift a tankard and tell them both to piss off and make it official already.”
Cheyenne swallowed a laugh. “What do you call that on this side?”
“Putting Persh’al out of his misery.” They shared a short chuckle.
“I meant, the ‘making it official’ part.”
“I know.” Nu’ek rolled her shoulders back and looked at the vaulted ceiling of the cavern, stretching out her muscular gray neck. “It’s called a myrein. When all this is finished, we’ll need something to celebrate. Take our minds off what’s been done.”
Cheyenne frowned. “I’d think stopping the Crown would be enough to celebrate.”
The golra folded her arms again and shook her head, the smile gone from her steely features. “After so much loss, Aranél, even a definitive win starts to feel like just one more struggle to overcome. There’s little to rejoice about when you’re the last ones standing in a battlefield. But a myrein? A myrein focuses on the future.”
“Right.” Cheyenne glanced up at the huge winged magical beside her, but Nu’ek had turned her attention to the others still gathered in small groups around the table. That’s why they’re here. Focusing on the future and forgetting everything they had to give up to get there. This thing is a lot bigger than I thought.
Persh’al grabbed Elarit’s hand and held it in both of his as she turned away from him. The troll woman’s small smile betrayed the apathy she tried so hard to project. When Persh’al raised her hand to his lips, she looked down at him over the shimmering silver chain across her face and closed her eyes. Her scarlet fingers lightly brushed his cheek, then she turned without another word and slipped away from him to join someone else’s conversation.
Staring after her, Persh’al took a full ten seconds before he spun and stalked toward Cheyenne and Nu’ek. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The golra nodded and took off down the tunnel, summoning another handful of fire to light their way. Cheyenne fell in beside Persh’al and cleared her throat. “So, Elarit, huh?”
Persh’al shot her a wide-eyed stare, then shook his head. “Should’ve known you’d pick up on that.”
“I think everyone’s picked up on it.”
“Yeah, well, everyone can mind their own damn business, can’t they?” His raised voice echoed down the tunnel, though Nu’ek acted like she hadn’t heard. Persh’al scratched the back of his head and muttered, “You can keep what you saw to yourself, kid. The crew Earthside doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure.” He snorted. “If they knew, they wouldn’t have sent me across with you.”
Cheyenne’s eyes widened, but he wouldn’t look at her. “That’s a shitty reason to make you stay behind.”
“Not when they think I’m over here following orders.”
“What? He ordered you to—”
“Drop it, all right?” Persh’al looked at her with a creased brow, his jaw clenching in the flickering light of Nu’ek’s fire in front of them. “Now’s not the time.”
Cheyenne swallowed and stared straight ahead. So, L’zar sticks his fancy drow nose in everyone else’s business too. Okay. That’s one more thing to set straight when the time is right. Whenever the hell that is.
Chapter Fifty-One
Nu’ek led them down the tunnel for another hour at least before luminescent panels lit up overhead. The golra snuffed out her flames and turned to nod at Cheyenne and Persh’al. “We’re getting close.”
“Close to what?” Cheyenne gazed at the flickering lights and couldn’t tell if they were powered by magic or the return of working technology down here.
“A transport station.” Nu’ek pointed down the dark tunnel, which slowly illuminated as their presence activated the overhead lights. “The Crown’s blocked most of the portals around the city. Fortunately, she’s got about as much control over the portals as she does over us. But the ones she either can’t touch or doesn’t care about are at least as far out as Oronti Valley, if not farther.”
The halfling grimaced. “So we have another, what? Four hours or more to go?”
Persh’al grunted. “Nah, kid. We’ll be moving a lot faster on the way back.”
Five minutes later, the tunnel opened into a wide rectangular room. Directly across from them was a heavy metal door with a circular window, and the entire wall curved away from the room’s entrance. Cheyenne studied the corners of the room and frowned. “That’s not a wall, is it?”
“Good work.” Persh’al strode across the room and gave the curving metal wall a quick slap. “More like taking the subway, kid, without the crowded seats and the smell.”
Nu’ek raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand half of what you say anymore.”
“It’s another Earthside thing, golra. I’d say you should visit sometime, but there’s even less room for you there than there is here. Unless you’ve been brushing up on your transformation spells.”
“That would be a waste of my time.”
“Right. Well, good thing you’re staying here while we light this baby up and get the hell out of the city.” Persh’al pressed the door of the O’gúleesh shuttle, but nothing happened. “Oh, come on.”
He pressed a few more times, ran his hand over the metal from side to side and top to bottom, then pounded it with a fist. “Nu’ek!”
The golra’s thick jaw clenched and unclenched as she stared at the agitated troll. “It was fully functional the last time I was here.”
“Which was when? Right after I left?”
Her apologetic shrug was even more awkward coming from a magical her size.
“Shit.” He scowled at the door and tossed his arms in the air. “Now what, huh? L’zar’s expecting us to report back before dawn over there, and we’re not taking another fell-damn skiff to the Outers. That’s not gonna happen.”
“Tell him the station went dead.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll just pop back into the wanted drow’s hiding place
hours late and hand him excuses. The guy freaks out when you bring him the wrong beef jerky flavor. How do you think he’s gonna react when his kid goes missing for hours and he can’t find her?”
“I’m not missing,” Cheyenne muttered.
“Yeah, and he won’t know that ‘til we get back to tell him, will he?”
“I’m sorry.’” Nu’ek dipped her head toward him and spread her arms. “We can try another station.”
“And risk that one being dead too? Don’t screw with me, golra. If this one’s dead, the others are dead too. Damn. And here I was, thinking these things had a few hundred years left until they cut us off.”
The troll ranted on, but Cheyenne tuned him out when her fingers closed around the coil of Elarit’s activator in her pocket. She pulled it out, frowned at the metal lines of the first device spreading across her hand, and peeled that one off. The minute she slipped the chains off her fingers, they withdrew with a metallic clink until the pieces had folded themselves back into the metal tube of the activator’s original shape. She stuck it in her other pocket and studied the Elarit’s coil. Worth a shot, right?
“Hey, are we still inside the wards? The ones for all the tech?”
Persh’al stopped mid-sentence and shot her a quick glance before scowling up at Nu’ek again. “You’d better hope you have a useful answer to that question.”
The golra let out a low growl and stomped toward the entrance to the station. Her claws screeched on the stone floor, and she swiped a hand across the open air leading into the tunnel they’d just exited. Pale light shimmered over the doorway, which filled with a thin metal panel that slid into place to block them off.
“Huh.” Persh’al glanced around the long room and nodded at Cheyenne. “Yeah, maybe the wards were interfering with the controls. Good thinking, kid.” He pointed at her and hurried back to the door of the underground train to try opening it again.
“That wasn’t where I was going with that,” Cheyenne muttered.
He snarled at the unresponsive door and smacked it again. “You sure you know how to dampen the wards the right way?”