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

by Martha Carr

  A surprised laugh burst from the halfling’s lips, and she scrolled down the forum’s home page. Every single username brought up the same personal data no one else was supposed to see. Grinning, Cheyenne took it all in and had to sit back in her chair at the realization. Her hand went up to the activator behind her ear.

  This thing breaks human tech wide open. I could hack into anything with this. Not like I couldn’t before, but now it’s too easy.

  She glanced at the wall on her right and brought up the image of their friendly neighbor’s huge smile when he’d stepped out of his front door that morning.

  I could hack into Matthew Thomas’ database too, and I’d bet my entire rig that it’d be as easy and untraceable as—”

  The buzzing of her phone on silent caught her enhanced hearing and ripped her right out of that train of thought. “Crap.”

  She lurched to her feet and ran down the stairs.

  “You okay?” Ember called after her.

  “Phone’s ringing.” It was still shoved into the back pocket of her blood-stained pants from last night, but she pulled it out and quickly answered Corian’s call. “Hey.”

  “Why do you sound out of breath?”

  Cheyenne forced herself to breathe slowly. “I’m not. I ran down the stairs to get my phone. What’s up?”

  “We’ve moved up the timeline a little.” Corian paused, presumably to step away from Lumil and Byrd, who were bickering about something in the background. “We’re holding the Nós Aní ceremony today.”

  “Wait, what?” Cheyenne turned to look through her open bedroom door at Ember, who was thoroughly engrossed in her show.

  “After what Persh’al told us about your quick trip over, we’ve all decided that is the next thing on the list. It’ll help you and Ember both, as I’m sure she already told you.”

  “Yeah, she did.”

  “Good. I’ll be at your apartment at two o’clock. Make sure you’re both ready for this. And wear something nice, huh?”

  Cheyenne snorted. “Something nice. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something appropriately off the mark,” Corian said, chuckling. “This is a big deal, Cheyenne. For both of you. Oh, and don’t eat lunch.”

  “Lunch?”

  The line went dead, and she stared at the home screen of her phone. “Seriously, that’s all I get?”

  She looked up and found Ember staring at her. “You’re gonna disappear for some other crazy mission now, aren’t you?”

  Cheyenne snorted and paused in the door of her room. “Kinda. You’ve been invited too.”

  “What?” The fae turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the coffee table. “Those guys have lost their minds.”

  “According to the crazy rebels, we’re doing that ceremony today.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah. We can expect a nightstalker portal at two.”

  Ember laughed. “I don’t even know what to say to that, except to remind you that you can’t even try to back out of this now.”

  “I’m not gonna try, Em. You made your point about the whole Nós Aní thing. And from what I hear, I’d be stupid to fight a fae when she’s made up her mind.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Cheyenne glanced at her phone again. “I’m gonna put on some real clothes, then you up for a quick shopping trip?”

  Ember cocked her head. “For you or for me?”

  “Sure.” The halfling slipped back into her room to find something to wear that wasn’t bloody, ripped, or pajamas.

  An hour later, Cheyenne and Ember moved slowly down the formalwear aisle at a consignment store outside Jackson Ward, browsing the racks for something that would pass for nice. Ember ran a thin, sparkly black dress through her fingers and shook her head. “I don’t get why we’re dressing up for this. It’s weird, right? Like, putting on a show for five other magicals inside a warehouse?”

  “Yeah.” Cheyenne pulled a black shirt off the rack and wrinkled her nose at the flowered pattern on the sleeves before putting it back. “But it’s an excuse to get out. Pretend we’re two normal people about to dress up for something that’s totally not normal.”

  “That makes just as much sense.” Ember held a hot-pink minidress against her chest and looked at her friend. “You think they’d approve of this one?”

  “I don’t give a shit what they’d think. I’d tell you to burn it.”

  Ember laughed and put the dress back, both her fingers and the hanger flashing with pale violet light as the hook rose from her fingers and returned to the rack. “What do you think the ceremony entails, huh? Obviously, sacrifices and bloodletting are out.”

  “Unless Corian was lying to you to get you to say yes.”

  “Guess we’ll have to see. Just putting it out there, though—I didn’t write a speech or anything.”

  “Nah, they probably have a script.” The girls snickered and kept searching through the racks. “Or it’s one of those repeat-after-me deals.”

  Ember tilted her head and pulled the corners of her mouth down in a haughty impersonation of pompous dignity. “‘Do you, Ember Gaderow, profess your undying loyalty to the halfling child of the world’s most-wanted drow criminal?’”

  “Ugh.” Cheyenne shot her friend a sidelong glance and chuckled. “You do a pretty good job of looking just like my mom, though.”

  “Hey, you think they invited her too?”

  They burst out laughing, ignoring the skeptical glances of the other women milling through the boutique who preferred a less giddy shopping experience.

  “Wait a minute.” Cheyenne pulled a heavy black romper from the rack, complete with pockets, a silver zipper up the front, and black satin along the collar and on the cuff of each long sleeve. “I like this.”

  “Looks like a mechanic’s jumpsuit in fancy black.”

  “I’m goin’ with it.”

  Ember shook her head with a small smile and kept moving down the rack. “I’m not gonna find anything in here. I don’t even know what I’d— Whoa.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then pointed at a hanger. Everything flashed purple, and the simple, slate-gray dress with short sleeves sailed into her hand. “Yeah, this is it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m not into jumpsuits.”

  Cheyenne snorted and took the dress from her friend, pinning its hanger in one hand with her own outfit. “Fair enough. Let’s get outta here.”

  They moved through the aisle and headed toward the checkout counter along the far wall. The halfling stopped when she looked at the mannequin in front of them and cocked her head.

  “I need that too.”

  “The jacket?” Ember wrinkled her nose. “You’re going all out, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, it works. Semi-formal meets trench coat with a hood, and it’s my color.” Cheyenne sorted through the jackets behind the mannequin before she pulled out the last one in her size and grinned at it. “I needed a new jacket anyway.”

  Laughing, Ember wheeled herself toward the checkout counter. “At least you know what you like.”

  “Hey, I’ve got an extremely specific style. Pretty hard to replicate too.”

  “I bet your mom and Eleanor loved shopping for Christmas presents, huh?” They reached the desk, and Ember’s smile faded when she saw her friend’s hesitant frown. “What?”

  Cheyenne placed the items on the counter as the short, smiling clerk came toward them to get started on the purchase. “Would it surprise you if I said Bianca doesn’t believe in Christmas?”

  Ember blinked. “No, not really. I probably should’ve guessed that.”

  “Eleanor snuck past the barricade a few times, but it was more like books and then parts when I started building computers.” Cheyenne chuckled. “You know, performance-based gifts.”

  “Jeeze.”

  “Did you find everything you were looking for today?” the clerk asked, smiling sweetly at her newes
t customers.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Cheyenne pulled her wallet out of her back pocket and slipped out her card.

  “Excellent. Would you like me to box these for you?”

  “Oh, no. Just in the bag is fine.” Cheyenne flipped her credit card against her fingers and nodded.

  “Sure.” The woman removed the clothes from the hangers before folding them gently and placing them in a large brown paper bag with handles. “There you are. Enjoy.”

  Cheyenne and Ember glanced at each other, and the halfling cleared her throat. “I think you forgot to ring me up.”

  “No, I did not.” The woman glanced around the shop and leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “Your purchase is covered today, ma’am. No questions asked. I wish I could be there to see it, but I gotta keep things running around here if you know what I mean.” She winked at Cheyenne, and a flash of green light flared briefly behind her large brown eyes.

  Now I’m getting expensive clothes for free from a magical at a consignment store.

  Cheyenne tried to smile back as she put away her card and her wallet. “Well, thanks.”

  “Think nothing of it, Aranél.” The woman grinned at Ember next, nodding as Cheyenne took the bag.

  “Okay.” Ember gave the human-looking magical a weak wave before wheeling herself toward the front doors. “Have a good one.”

  “You too. Good luck.”

  An electronic bell dinged when the girls stepped outside. Cheyenne glanced over her shoulder at the woman behind the counter, who raised a hand in farewell and wouldn’t stop smiling.

  “What was that?” Ember asked, heading to Cheyenne’s shiny black Panamera parked in front of the store.

  The halfling gritted her teeth and unlocked the car, ignoring the chirp that usually brightened her mood. “Marsil told me he hadn’t said anything to anyone about you.”

  “But she knows who you are, apparently.” Ember moved away from the passenger side door and flicked a finger at it. The handle flashed purple, and the door swung open in front of her.

  Cheyenne tossed the bag into the back and helped her friend transfer into the passenger seat, aided by the fae’s boost of magic lifting her out of the chair. “And it sounded like she knew about the ceremony. What else could she be talking about?”

  “Marsil couldn’t have told her about that. We only just found out.”

  “I know.” Cheyenne popped the trunk, folded up the wheelchair, and stored it before slipping behind the wheel. Both front doors closed at the same time, and she and Ember exchanged dubious glances. “Somebody’s been spreading the word. Really damn fast, too.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Ember strapped herself in and stared at the front of the consignment store. “Who would openly put that information out there? Especially when everyone on this side following L’zar knows the Crown’s still looking for you.”

  Cheyenne punched the engine’s start button and buckled her seatbelt. “An idiot, that’s who. At least they keep the wards up around the warehouse, ‘cause if the wrong people find out about this, we’re gonna have a different kind of party.”

  Chapter Sixty

  Back at their apartment, Cheyenne finished putting on the extra layers of thick black eyeliner and nodded at herself in the mirror. She’d pinned her hair into something resembling a fancy up-do, the slight curl left in her black locks spilling down to frame her face. She smoothed down the front of her new romper, looked herself up and down, and then stepped out of the bathroom as Ember wheeled out of the kitchen.

  “Whoa.” The fae grinned. “Okay, the jumpsuit works. Especially with the black lipstick.”

  “See? Told you. Nice dress.”

  Ember glanced down at the gray dress, which fell just below her knees. “Thanks. Admittedly, I wish I had more magic tricks to work with, but putting on these leggings would’ve been a bitch without them.”

  Cheyenne chuckled. “You did okay.”

  “Yeah. Pretty soon, I’ll snap my fingers and voila! Instant wardrobe change.” Ember snapped her fingers, and a soft pop came from the center of the living room as Corian’s portal appeared beside the coffee table. The fae’s eyes widened as the nightstalker stepped out of thin air in black dress slacks and a dark-gray button-up shirt. He gazed around the apartment until he found Ember staring at him. “That was creepily punctual.”

  “Ember.” He nodded at her, then turned toward Cheyenne. “Are you ready?”

  “Yep.” Cheyenne grabbed her new coat off the back of the couch, reaching into the deep pockets to double-check that her phone and the activator were still where she’d put them. “Let’s do this.”

  Ember nodded and headed toward the portal. Cheyenne joined her, and Corian gestured for them both to step through the shimmering, opaque wall of black light.

  “Why isn’t this one see-through?”

  He smiled at the halfling and dipped his head. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Oh, boy.” Ember pushed herself through the portal.

  “I’m not a big fan of surprises,” Cheyenne muttered.

  “I know. Try to make an exception for this one.” Corian gestured toward the portal again and nodded.

  Trying not to roll her eyes, she turned toward the wall of light and took a deep breath. It better be a good one.

  When she stepped through, she almost toppled into the back of Ember’s wheelchair. She stopped herself with a hand on the handles and moved to the left, her eyes widening at the scene before her.

  “Sorry,” Ember muttered blankly. Her chair flashed violet and moved two feet to the right.

  “No problem.” Cheyenne’s mouth dropped open as Corian arrived behind them and the portal disappeared. “What’s going on?”

  “Surprise.” Corian chuckled and stepped past them and strode toward the center of the huge clearing in front of them.

  At the center was a massive tree, its trunk twisted and angling to the side as gigantic branches snaked out in every direction. Each bough was large and thick enough to walk comfortably across, some of them dipping down to skim across the dark, dew-studded grass, and every bit of the tree pulsed with an internal light that changed from black to purple to black again.

  Ember gazed at the pitch-black sky studded with stars. “It’s not supposed to be dark out right now.”

  “Trees aren’t supposed to glow, either,” Cheyenne muttered.

  At the base of the massive trunk stood L’zar, Byrd, Lumil, and Persh’al, each of them wearing some variation of a formal suit. Lumil had tied a crimson scarf around her neck to hide the scar encircling her flesh, and the combination of that and an outfit that weirdly matched Byrd’s made her look like a green-skinned pirate with yellow hair.

  L’zar chuckled, his hands clasped behind his back. His well-tailored suit shimmered bright-silver when he reached out to gesture at the clearing around them. “The Nós Aní have always been bound at night beneath a Nimlothar, but we don’t have time to wait for dark or find one of these trees which don’t exist Earthside. Still, tradition’s important, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.” Cheyenne slipped into her jacket and glanced at each of the magicals waiting for them beneath the tree. Corian took his place beside L’zar, waving for her and Ember to join them. “So, all this is a giant illusion?”

  L’zar dipped his head. “In a manner of speaking. Mostly.”

  Ember easily wheeled herself across the cold, wet grass, her eyes lighting up with the pulsing glow within the illusion of the Nimlothar tree. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Right there with you, Em.”

  They stopped in front of a glowing silver line drawn in the grass, separating them from L’zar and the others. On the other side of that line were a silver pitcher, two silver goblets, and a wickedly sharp ceremonial dagger glinting in the artificial starlight.

  Cheyenne grinned. “Hey, you guys promised no sacrifices.”

  Ember snorted.

  “Well, no.” L’zar studied the dagger at his fee
t. “That’s not for either of you.”

  A new portal appeared on the halfling’s right and Maleshi stepped through, wearing a cocktail dress in a bright, startling shade of pink.

  Cheyenne nudged Ember’s shoulder and nodded at the general. The fae glanced that way and laughed. “Yeah, see? She can pull it off.”

  Maleshi grinned at them and stepped forward as her portal disappeared. Then she stopped in front of Ember and extended her hand. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, Ember. Maleshi Hi’et.”

  “Yeah, I know.” The fae stared at her but took the nightstalker’s hand, which was covered with fine dark fur.

  “I didn’t think you knew about this,” Cheyenne said as Maleshi’s glowing silver eyes met hers.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world, kid.” The general nodded and put a hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder. “Good timing, right?”

  “Sure.” The halfling laughed in disbelief and stared at the glowing trunk of the Nimlothar. “So, what now?”

  Corian stepped toward the silver line in the grass.

  Another portal opened across the clearing behind them. Corian’s gaze flickered that way, and his frown made Cheyenne turn around. Marsil Keldryk stepped through the oval of shimmering light, finally revealing his true form as a goblin, also in formal attire. Right behind him came Dr. Boseley, her red hair a mass of scarlet curls on top of her head.

  “My physical therapist is a troll,” Ember muttered.

  “Looks like it, yeah.”

  Two more portals opened, then two more, and a stream of other magicals Cheyenne didn’t recognize stepped solemnly into the ceremonial clearing. She stared at each of them. All were dressed for the special occasion, and every face gazed at her with a broad, eager smile.