by Martha Carr
“I know!”
“Wait a minute. Just hold on.” Ember pinched the bridge of her nose, blinking furiously. “I don’t even see how that’s possible. He’s so nice.”
“You need to get over that, Em.” Cheyenne snatched the metal sphere on her desk and leaned over the rail, thrusting the broken war machine toward her friend. “Because nice guys don’t write the programming that lets shit like this work in our world. Nice guys don’t get involved in powering up technology controlled by magicals from Ambar’ogúl who keep sending war machines to kill us while the Crown’s getting ready for an Earth invasion via the same goddamn tech.”
She chucked the metal sphere over the rail, where it landed in the puddle of Ember’s conjured rainwater nestled in the corner of the recliner. A few drops splashed on Ember’s bare arms, but she hardly felt them. She took a deep breath. “There’s no way he’d do that on purpose.”
“Stop trying to defend him.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her bone-white hair, her drow magic fueled further by her anger, and turned to stare at the information on her screen. “So you guys spent some time together while he unpacked all our crap in this place and hung artwork on the walls for you. That’s not enough to clear him, Em. Matthew Thomas knows exactly what he’s doing. A guy like that with his fingers in so many industry pies doesn’t do stuff by accident.”
“But we didn’t find any cameras,” Ember protested. “No purple dots, remember?”
Cheyenne shook her head in frustration. “That only proves he’s not spying on us. You and me specifically. But he’s shit. The guy who figured out how to meld O’gúl tech with Earth technology is our fucking neighbor. Right there. Right next door. I don’t care if he knows who we are or what these machines are used for, he’s the reason these things work!”
“Stop yelling at me, Cheyenne.”
“I’m not yelling!” A burst of purple light flared behind the halfling’s eyes. Ember tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “At you. I’m not yelling at you.” Cheyenne tossed her hair out of her face and folded her arms. The silver chains around her wrists dug into her arms and her ribs, the small pain pulling her back to the present. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. We just need to think this through.”
Cheyenne sat at her desk again and scanned the new data. “I shouldn’t be this surprised. I knew there was something weird about the guy, like perfume trying to cover the smell of rotting meat.”
“Okay, you can break out the ‘I told you so’ after we’re a hundred percent sure this is real.”
“Oh, I’m a hundred percent sure. Here. I’ll show you.” Cheyenne copied all the information she could find and sent it to her printer. As the apartment filled with the drone of the laser-jet printer buzzing across sheet after sheet of blank paper, she dove a little deeper into the update history for the first encrypted file with Matthew Thomas’ company name all over it. “You won’t be able to deny any of this when you see it. Neither will he.”
Ember waited for the printer to stop. When it was still going five minutes later, she rolled her eyes and wheeled across the living room before heading into the kitchen. Cheyenne sat in her desk chair, arms folded as she glared at the printer pumping out pages and pages of incriminating evidence against their neighbor. I got you now, asshole.
* * *
By the time Cheyenne had gathered all the printed data and stacked it into something as close to a neat pile as she was going to get, she had almost fifty pages in her hands. Pulling off the activator, she ignored the sharp pinch and shoved the silver coil into her pocket before heading down the stairs.
Ember sat at the far end of the coffee table, calmly sipping a half-empty glass of water. “Think you went a little overboard?”
“No.” Cheyenne glanced at the stack of papers and snorted. “This is just the beginning. I pulled this all up without having to crack into a single thing. I mean, relatively speaking.”
“You mean, your version of cracking.”
“Yeah.” The halfling handed over the stack of papers still warm from the printer and jabbed a finger at them. “He’s got no excuse, Em.”
The fae rifled through the pages, shaking her head. “This means nothing to me. I’d ask you to go back up there and break it down a little more so someone with a normal above-average understanding could actually… Whoa.”
Ember stopped flipping through the pages and scanned the dates of the file updates on the top of the stack now.
“Yeah, whoa.” Cheyenne folded her arms. “It keeps going.”
“These go back almost five years.” The pages rustled as Ember flipped through them faster and faster.
“Once a month for the last five years at least, yeah. ThomasSafe has been actively updating these programming files. And I bet you literally my entire inheritance that if I took the time to dive into these, I’d find constantly updated patches, bug fixes, new update alerts, the whole deal. Matthew Thomas wrote a fucking app for remote-controlled war machines.”
“His company wrote the app.”
“Em, he’s been pretty vocal about how much he likes to be ‘hands-on’ with his projects. He went on and on in an interview about how he reads every single scholarship application kids send him for his stupid college fund every year. Matthew isn’t the kind of guy who lets other people take over a complicated project like this while he sits back and waits for the money to roll into his accounts.”
“You think the Crown’s paying him for this?”
“Well, he’s not doing it out of the kindness of his heart.” Cheyenne gave a heavy sigh as Ember shot her a warning glance. “Again, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just quit talking to me like I’m an idiot. I’m trying to look at this from all angles.”
That made Cheyenne pause. From all angles. That’s something I need serious practice with. She took a deep breath and dropped her head back to stare at their vaulted ceiling. “Okay, then let’s talk hypothetically.”
“I thought we were.”
“Proof isn’t hypothetical, Em.”
Ember flicked the stack of papers in her lap. “This proves what his company’s been doing for at least five years. What it doesn’t say is how involved Matthew is in this or what he thinks his company’s been accomplishing for that long. And it doesn’t tell us why he agreed to do it or what his intentions were.”
“His intentions don’t matter.”
“For real?” Ember dropped the printed pages in her lap and spread her arms. “You’re gonna stand next to me in this chair and tell me that when somebody makes a mistake, we should just throw their intentions out the window because they don’t matter?” She slapped her hands down on the armrests.
“Oh, come on. Those are two totally different things.”
“No, they’re not. What if Matthew doesn’t have a clue what his company’s programs are being used for? Or if he got into this whole Ogúl-tech-app thing, thinking he was doing his part to help magicals who made the crossing come over here, huh? Tell me how that’s different from you thinking your best option was to follow me to the skatepark that night instead of walking head-on into that meeting with me.”
Cheyenne blinked a few times in surprise and swallowed. No wonder my mom likes her so much. “I can’t.”
“Thank you. So there you go.” Ember picked up the stack of papers again and tapped them against her thighs to tidy the pile. “And just so we’re clear, no, I still don’t blame you for what happened that night. I mean, if I’m being painfully honest, getting shot might’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely painful.” Cheyenne grimaced. “And weird. What do you mean?”
“Without the whole hospital thing, maybe you wouldn’t have had the time to step in every other day and tell me about whatever wild goose chase you were on that day. I wouldn’t have needed any help. No PT. No new apartment.” Ember snorted. “Okay, maybe you would’ve gotten a place like this anyway, ‘cause your l
ast apartment was shit.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t even try to pretend you’re insulted by that.” The fae girl studied the pink hue of her hand and forearm, now glowing with a fae’s natural aura, then held her hand up toward Cheyenne. “Plus, I’m starting to think a spinal injury was what forced my magic into showing up. You know, all that crap about fae being natural healers or whatever. Even for myself.”
“Okay.” The halfling nodded. “I get your point. Just as long as you don’t thank me for letting you get shot.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ember raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “Durg’s the only one who gets credit for that, and he can suck it. But I can thank you for saving my life and hanging in there with me. I mean, you were the only person who cared that I couldn’t just walk out of that hospital bed and keep doing things the way I’ve been doing them.”
“Yeah, Em. You’ve already thanked me for that.”
“For real, though. Now I have a personal chauffeur in a pretty sweet car, you’re paying for this cushy place, and I look like an actual fae all the time now because some psycho in a different world wants you dead.”
“Okay, okay.” Cheyenne clenched her eyes shut. “Just stop.”
Ember laughed. “Good, we’re on the same page. The real question is how we deal with this new information about our surprisingly enmeshed neighbor.”
The halfling nodded and turned to pace across the wide section of open floor between the sitting area and the north-facing window wall. A wry laugh escaped her. “I was all pumped and ready to break down his door. You just burst my bubble, and it’s all fizzling away again. Happy now?”
“Yes.” Ember gave her a goofy salute. “Someone needs to talk you out of unnecessary chaos. Looks like I have the job.”
“Well, you’re the only person who hasn’t tried to lie to me, manipulate me for some secret bullshit, or fight me, so there’s that.” The friends stared at each other with deadpan expressions before Cheyenne snorted and paced away from Ember again. The fae girl smiled and sat back in her chair. “You’re right, though. I found all this stuff, and somebody’s gotta do something with it.”
“Just don’t call Corian yet, okay?”
“What?” Cheyenne spun and paced back toward her friend. “You say that like it’s my go-to solution.”
“I just mean not yet.”
The halfling rolled her eyes. “You know what? I only call him when I know I’m up against something I can’t handle on my own, or when not calling him would be worse for me than having the kinds of conversations I don’t enjoy. If it seems like a lot, that’s because there’s a lotta crap coming down the pipeline, and most of it has to do with L’zar in one way or another. And therefore Corian.”
Ember raised her hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” Taking a deep breath, Cheyenne stopped beside her friend’s chair and nodded at the papers in Ember’s lap. “I’ll just go talk to Matthew. Show him what I found.”
“Ask questions before you start blowing holes in his apartment. All right?”
“Sure, whatever. Good thing my Nós Aní handles talking me out of unnecessary chaos like a pro.”
“What? Oh, no.” Ember waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head. “I’m not storming in there with you to start accusing our neighbor of fighting on the wrong side.”
“Again, it’s a little more than accusing if we have proof.”
“You don’t need me to call him out on any of it. I’ll stay right here.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “The dude has an obvious soft spot for you, Em. We’re gonna use it.”
Ember grimaced. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds so…”
“Smart? Prepared?”
“Heartless.”
“Not compared to what could happen if the Crown gets more war machines over here and the magicals Matthew’s been writing programs for succeed in activating an entire army of those things to wipe out whoever the hell they want. One tank was hard enough.”
“Please,” Ember replied. “Just because you had to spend a little more time figuring out how to take it apart doesn’t mean it was hard for you.”
“Still. And you’re changing the subject.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll come with you, but don’t expect me to start pointing a finger and making threats.”
Cheyenne said, “That’s my job.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure.” The halfling raised her hands in the same gesture of surrender and dipped her head. “We’ll go in there, lay it all out, and give him a chance to explain himself.”
“Thank you.”
“Then I’ll start blasting holes in his apartment.”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
“He’s not home, is he?”
Cheyenne pulled her hand away from the front door, and her drow vision that let her see through walls and physical objects stopped when she opened her eyes. “Nope. Not a single body in that apartment, so I’m guessing he’s at one of those mysterious meetings he’s always talking about.”
Ember frowned. “I haven’t heard him say anything about meetings.”
“That’s because he’s always way more focused on sweet-talking you when you guys are hanging out doing whatever.”
“Talking, Cheyenne. And sometimes making homemade pizza.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “See? Even that just feels forced. He’s trying way too hard to hide his shady side.”
“Right. We don’t know anyone else who does that.”
The halfling ignored her friend’s jab and stepped away from the door. “We just need to keep an eye out for him and wait ‘til he gets back.”
“And what? You’re just gonna stand there at the door, watching the hallway with your third eye or whatever?”
“It’s not a third eye. And no. I’m not about to waste the rest of my night standing at our front door.” Cheyenne’s gaze fell onto the scattered pages of Maleshi’s spellbook. “You see any spells in there for spying on people?”
“No.” Ember snorted and wheeled between the couch and the coffee table again. “But there is something like a magical tripwire.”
“I hope it makes him trip.”
“Stop.” Ember scanned the pages, then reached for the rest of the unbound spellbook nestled against the couch’s armrest. She flipped through the different spells, then pulled out the page she wanted and paused. “You didn’t wanna keep these in order or anything, right?”
“Seeing as I’m not the one who can cast spells with any degree of accuracy, I couldn’t care less about organizing those things.” Cheyenne cocked her head with a small smile. “Maleshi might have something to say about it.”
“Maleshi handed you a magical bomb if the wrong person got their hands on this, and she didn’t even bother to string it together. How hard is that? Most copy machines have hole punches anyway.”
The halfling snorted. “Feel free to tell her that next time we see her.”
“You think I’m afraid of an ex-general parading around Richmond posing as an IT professor? Please. Neither of those nightstalkers scares me.”
“Listen to you. You’re starting to sound like me, Em.”
“With one major difference, halfling.” Ember dropped the rest of the scattered spellbook back on the couch and skimmed the instructions. “I know the difference between not being afraid of someone and pushing their buttons until their head explodes.”
Frowning, Cheyenne shook out her hands and set the chains on her wrists jingling. “I’ll just let you do your thing, then.”
“Uh-huh.” Without looking up from the magical tripwire spell, Ember grabbed the stack of their proof against Matthew Thomas and dropped it on the coffee table.
The halfling picked up the papers, and almost sat in the recliner full of water. With a grunt, she picked up the war-machine orb, wiped it off on her pants, and slumped into the other armchair while Ember got to w
ork.
Ten minutes later, a sputtering yellow light blinking around the perimeter of their apartment ripped Cheyenne out of her concentrated reading. “What was that?”
“That was a fae casting spells the right way.” Ember blew on her fingertips and shook out her hand. “On the first try.”
“At least we know your bragging skills are up to par.”
“Hey, don’t act like you’re not impressed.”
“I’m impressed, Em.” Cheyenne gazed around their apartment and raised her eyebrows. “And the spell was?”
“I told you. A tripwire. Sort of.” Ember read over the spell instructions one more time to double-check herself, then nodded. “Yeah. Around the whole apartment, but it’s not like I could just step out into the hall and cast this thing there. Especially if he’s got cameras on the hall.”
“Which he probably does. Lemme see that.” Ember handed over the spell in Maleshi’s handwriting, and Cheyenne’s eyes widened. “We don’t have any of these ingredients, Em.”
“I know.”
“Then why the hell are you sure this worked?”
Ember waved for the halfling to hand the spell sheet back, and she snatched it up again before setting it aside in a new pile of spells she’d tried and successfully cast. “I built it on top of the wards your super-fun friends put up.”
“Huh.” Cheyenne squinted at the walls and craned her neck to look at the O’gúl hornet’s web dangling over the side of the mini-loft. “That was a good call.”
“Again, I know.” Folding her arms, Ember basked in the halfling’s surprise and couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Look, I can’t say if this spell would’ve worked without ingredients or using the wards as a giant battery, but I know it worked the way I did it. I can feel it.”
“Okay. We’ve gone off nothing but my feelings before.”
“Exactly. Basically, anything that moves around the outside of our apartment is gonna set off an alarm. Seeing as the wards are actively holding off digging machine beetles and flying spy-whatevers, the only kind of movement we should get will be out there in the hall.”