by Martha Carr
Ember turned from the stove and directed two hovering plates of eggs and bacon toward the kitchen island. Once they’d settled gently on the counter, she looked up and saw Cheyenne heading toward her. “Whoa. I didn’t think you were serious when you said, ‘burn it all out.’”
“Yeah, I had something a little less intense in mind.” Cheyenne poured herself a cup of coffee and took a long, slurping sip. “Sorry I freaked you out.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Some people sing in the shower, some people scream. I get it.”
The halfling drank more coffee and leaned against the counter. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently, I have visions.”
Ember froze. “Visions.”
“Yeah. It happened a few times before I passed the trials. When the Crown was actively looking for me, I guess. I saw some old crone’s face and heard parts of L’zar’s prophecy, but I’m sure that had more to do with the legacy box than anything else.”
“And this vision didn’t.”
“Right. The box is already open. This one was a Nimlothar tree the way they used to be, I think, before the Crown screwed everything up. I saw it burn.” Cheyenne shook her head before drinking more coffee.
“Yeesh.”
The halfling slowly swung her gaze to meet Ember’s. “With black fire.”
“Oh.” Ember shrugged. “I mean, you’re not the only one who can summon black fire, right? Gúrdu did it.”
“I don’t think his was real. I’m sure it’s a drow thing, though.”
“Okay. So any drow could use it to burn a tree.”
“Sure. Including me.”
Ember shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself for something that happened in a vision.”
“No, I know. You’re totally right. What I need to do is figure out what the hell it means and whether there’s something I’m supposed to do about it. All this? The prophecy, the vision—it feels like a warning, and I have no idea why I’m the one getting it.”
“Okay, hold on a sec.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this stuff, Em. I’m just trying to do the right thing. Help the other magicals on this side not get themselves in trouble when the other O’gúl assholes are running around stealing kids and blowing up marketplaces. All I wanted out of this was to get the orc who shot you, and instead, I’m part of this centuries-long rebellion that nobody’s been able to fight because the idiot who knocked up my mom locked himself up just to see what would happen. L’zar won’t even fight with us, and everyone still thinks he’s the end-all-be-all to this whole thing. So I passed the trials. Awesome. I’m not just a clueless halfling who has no idea how to handle her magic anymore. Great. I could do something with that, and instead, I’m locked up in my own apartment, not helping everyone else, just like he did. I don’t even know if what we’re going to do once we cross the Border again is what needs to happen. I don’t want prophecies and visions. I want shit to quit getting worse!”
The mug in her hand let out a soft pop, and she looked down to see a spiderweb of cracks spreading around the ceramic from beneath her hand, which had taken on the mottled grayness of her drow form without her knowing it.
“Shit.” She set the mug down on the counter beside her and turned her hands over. “I’m halfway between drow halfling and Goth lobster now.”
Ember snorted but immediately wiped the smile off her face.
“I had a handle on changing forms. Now I’m losing control and starting all over.”
The kitchen fell silent, punctured by Ember slurping her coffee. “Did you get it all out, or do you need to vent more?”
Cheyenne puffed out her cheeks. “No, if I keep venting, I’ll break something other than a mug.”
“Okay. Now I’m gonna say a few things.”
The halfling glanced at her friend, nodded, and looked down at her raw red arms and hands again as the patches of dark gray faded.
“First of all, you are not starting all over. Case in point, you didn’t shatter the mug, and you didn’t have to run away to hide your ears and wait for it all to settle back down. See? Look. Goth lobster.”
“Jeeze.”
“Sorry, but it’s a perfect description.” Ember set her mug on the kitchen island and nodded. “Seriously, Cheyenne. You’re doing everything you can, and it is enough. One hundred percent. Look at what happened with Matthew, right? You went in there twice without using magic to fight your way to the answer. Okay, minus the one in his loveseat, but that’s not the point. You do know what you’re doing now.”
“Except with that damn prophecy,” Cheyenne muttered.
“Fuck the prophecies and visions. You’re Cheyenne Summerlin. You’re a drow halfling who’s been to the other side and back again without being ripped apart. I mean, you’re the only magical Earthside who can use that weird little coil tech, which makes you unstoppable. You closed a portal ridge by yourself. You don’t need L’zar or Corian or Maleshi or the rest of them, but you’re helping them because as far as any of us can tell, that is the right thing to do.”
“I don’t know if that’s true right now.”
“Listen, you are helping them, and everyone else. If you change your mind and back out, this whole thing goes to shit. They all know it. You know it. Honestly, you need to quit feeling sorry for yourself and just be yourself. That’s why you do the whole Goth thing, right?”
“Because I like the way it looks?”
Ember scoffed. “Don’t change the subject.”
Cheyenne shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Hey, the first time I asked you about it, you said you’re Goth because you’re not a quitter. There’s no way in hell you’re backing out of this now because you don’t understand all the pieces. Got it?”
A slow smile bloomed on the halfling’s lips. “Loud and clear, Em.”
“Good. I made eggs and bacon, so eat it if you want. Or don’t. Just stop trying to take on everyone else’s problems.” Ember pointed at one of the plates on the island, and it floated into her lap on a cloud of purple light before she wheeled herself into the living room.
“Coffee, breakfast, and a badass pep talk. Happy Saturday.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Ember laughed and dug into her food. “Don’t expect it to be a regular thing.”
Cheyenne grabbed a new mug to fill with the coffee from the one she’d almost shattered, then grabbed the other plate and headed into the living room to join her friend. “I don’t expect it at all. But thanks.”
“Hey, that’s what a Nós Aní is supposed to do, right? Check their drow when they’re making drow asses of themselves.”
“Ha. I can always count on you for that.”
“Damn straight, you can.”
Cheyenne sat on one of the leather recliners and set her plate in her lap before starting with the bacon. She’s right. If I’m gonna get pissed off, I better make sure I can do something about it. No point otherwise.
Five minutes into their breakfast, Cheyenne heard her phone buzzing on silent in her bedroom. “Oh, boy.”
“What?”
“Phone call.” She set her plate on the coffee table and hurried into her room.
“Is it Corian?”
“Yep.” Cheyenne stared at his name on her phone, then answered the call and went back into the living area. “Hey.”
“Hey. You still having a hard time with cabin fever?”
Of course Maleshi told him. “Not so much right now. I guess that depends on how much longer I have to stay here.”
“Is today soon enough for you?”
She paused behind the recliners and stared at Ember.
“What?” Ember whispered.
Cheyenne shook her head and muttered into the phone, “To do what?”
“To make our move, Cheyenne. L’zar finally finished what he started Earthside. Now it’s time to finish what he started in Ambar’ogúl. Pack a bag and be ready to move. A light bag,
but enough for longer than a day if we have to stay. And bring Ember. You’ll need her.”
“Wait, we’re leaving today?”
“That’s what I said, kid. In the next few hours. So buckle up.” Corian hung up, and Cheyenne stared at her phone.
“Holy shit.”
“Time to make the crossing again, huh?” Ember stared at her friend and slowly lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth.
“Yeah. I didn’t expect that to happen now. I haven’t even been back Earthside for twenty-four hours, and now I’m doing it again.”
“That was fast.”
“No kidding.” Cheyenne slipped her phone into her back pocket and took a deep breath. “He told me to bring you with me.”
“What?” Ember choked on her mouthful and set her plate down on the coffee table. “No, no. I don’t do Border crossings.”
“Em.”
“Uh-uh. That’s a terrible idea.”
“Okay. How about if I ask you to come?”
Ember rolled her eyes. “Now you’re splitting hairs, and I still can’t go with you.”
“Why not?”
“Um, hello?” Ember slapped the armrests of her wheelchair and spread her arms. “Paraplegic fae isn’t an advantage for any of you, Cheyenne.”
“Yeah, and you broke through all that when you blasted that shadowy whatever-it-was back through the portal at the ceremony. That was all you. I’d be in the Crown’s hands right now if you hadn’t been there with me. Corian’s right, Em. I do need you.”
Ember clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. “So, someone’s gonna carry me across the Border?”
“Whatever we have to do to make it happen, we’ll do, Em. He wouldn’t have said you need to come with us if he or any of the others thought there would be a problem.”
“Just to be clear, I blasted that thing back through the portal out of pure instinct. I don’t know how to fight.”
Cheyenne folded her arms and smiled. “How do you think I learned?”
“Oh, jeeze.” Rolling her eyes, Ember thumped back against her seat. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“Nope.”
The fae girl sighed. “And I can’t convince either of us that I don’t want to go. Making the crossing sounds like the worst thing most magicals could ever go through.” Ember’s smile looked more like a grimace until she looked at Cheyenne and forced herself to grin about it. “I do wanna go.”
“Despite how creepy your smile is right now, I believe you.” Cheyenne pointed at her friend. “We’re doing this. Corian said a few hours and told us to pack a light bag in case we’re over there for a few days.”
“A few days.” Ember ran a hand through her purple-tinted hair and puffed out her cheeks. “Damn. We’re doing this.”
“There you go. Let it sink in, then go pack a bag, I guess. This is it.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Cheyenne had her backpack mostly filled ten minutes later and dropped it on the couch to double-check the inventory.
Ember returned to the living room with a brown and green backpack in her lap and stopped on the other side of the couch. “What am I supposed to put in this besides a few clothes? I don’t know what to be prepared for.”
“Probably just clothes.” Cheyenne glanced at the mostly empty backpack in her friend’s lap. “Yeah, that looks like pretty light packing.”
“Because it is. I feel ridiculous.”
“Don’t. I know a little more about what I’m doing because I’ve already been there, only this time is gonna be a lot different.”
“No kidding.” Ember peered across the couch at her friend’s backpack. “What are you bringing?”
“Clothes. The darktongue salve.”
“Naturally.”
“The legacy box and the coin are down in the bottom somewhere. This.” Cheyenne lifted the thick silver cuff L’zar had given her to keep her human side hidden from the native O’gúleesh. “Actually, I should probably just put this on.”
L’zar appeared beside her at the couch’s armrest. “Cheyenne.”
“Oh! Shit.” She leaped away from him and scowled. “You can’t do that!”
Ember looked up from her backpack. “What?”
“I can, actually.” L’zar’s smile widened, his golden eyes flashing as he raised his eyebrows. “Packing for our final stand, I see.”
“Wow. You’re so perceptive.”
“Cheyenne?” Ember spread her arms. “What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to—” Cheyenne gestured at L’zar and frowned. “You don’t see him, do you?”
“Who?”
L’zar chuckled. “Did I open the Don’adurr at the wrong time?”
“Yes. It’s always the wrong time for that. Stop talking.” Cheyenne held up a finger toward the vision of her father he’d projected into her living room and met Ember’s gaze. “L’zar’s pulling his super annoying jump-into-my-head trick.”
“Oh. Tell him to cut it out.”
Trying not to laugh, Cheyenne looked at the image of L’zar and raised an eyebrow. “Corian said we’re ready to go, and we’re packing. What do you want?”
“Simply to remind you of one more important item.” He gazed around whatever portion of her apartment he could see and narrowed his eyes. “By ‘we,’ you’re referring to you and Ember, correct?”
“No, I thought I’d bring a few more friends along to spice things up.”
“At least your thinking is sharp this morning. Do you have the nalís?”
“The tree pin?”
L’zar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It has a name, Cheyenne, but if that’s how you think of it, then yes. The tree pin.”
“Yeah, I have it.”
“Make sure you bring that with you. I’m glad you haven’t had to use it before now, or maybe even that you never thought to use it. We can add that to our list of last resorts.”
“I have it, I said.”
“Excellent.” L’zar smiled at her, his golden gaze roaming over her face.
Dark Smiling Weaver, all right. She looked away from him, then glanced back and raised her eyebrows. “Anything else?”
“Hmm. No. I’ll see you soon.” He vanished.
Cheyenne snorted and returned her attention to stuffing the rest of the extra clothes into her backpack before zipping the whole thing up. “Of course he couldn’t have just picked up a phone and or let Corian send a message.”
“What did he want?”
“He wants me to bring this charm he made me. The nalís.”
“Ooh. Haven’t read about that one yet.” Ember leaned forward with an eager stare. “What does it do?”
“It opens an insta-portal to me from where L’zar happens to be. Emergency backup, I guess.”
“He doesn’t think you guys will be separated over there, does he?”
“I have no idea. I think he just doesn’t want me to forget I can summon him whenever. Like, he’s trying to convince me I need him or something. I mean, the nalís only works once.”
“Maybe I can find something in Maleshi’s spellbook to do kind of the same thing.” Ember zipped up her backpack. “That would be awesome. Instant portals? Are you kidding?”
“I’m fairly sure you’re not gonna find that charm in her spellbook, Em. Apparently, it’s a drow thing, powered by nightstalker blood.”
“Oh.” Ember grimaced. “Okay, maybe not. Really?”
“Yeah. That’s what powers the portal, ‘cause nightstalkers are the only magicals who can summon portals.”
“I know that part. It’s just creepy that you carry around nightstalker blood in a charm with you.”
Cheyenne chuckled. “I don’t carry it around with me. I don’t think it’s that much anyway. Not nearly as much as the blood-tracking bombs the loyalists smuggled over here.”
Ember shook her head. “That’s taking it too far.”
“Well, it sounds like Corian and the others took care of the issue w
ith the war machines. That’s what had to happen before we could make the crossing again. There’s no way they just said, ‘Screw it, we’ll deal with those guys later.’”
“Huh. Fingers crossed.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go get that pin.” Cheyenne headed into her bedroom and searched her previously worn clothing scattered across the floor. She finally found the shirt she’d worn when L’zar gave her the pin and held it up to the light. I’d completely forgotten about this thing. See? There’s a plus side to not keeping up with the laundry.
She removed the pin from the hem of the old shirt and attached it to the one she was wearing. “Guess I’m prepared now.”
“Oh, wow.” Ember’s surprised voice came from the living room.
“Em?” Cheyenne shut her bedroom door behind her and stopped when she saw Maleshi standing between the coffee table and the wall of windows. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Maleshi turned and gave her an eager smile. “You ready?”
“I think so.” Walking slowly toward the couch and her backpack, Cheyenne eyed the nightstalker. “Nice suit.”
“You don’t have to pretend to like it, Cheyenne.” Maleshi rolled her shoulders back and smoothed down the front of her black and gray uniform jacket with a high, stiff, collar and two silver stripes slashed across the chest. Two patches with O’gúleesh symbols were sewn to the shoulders, and a line of smaller metals in various colors shimmered down the right side. “I know it’s not like anything you’re used to seeing over here. But where I come from, this uniform means something, so this is how they’ll see me when Maleshi Hi’et returns to Ambar’ogúl.”
Cheyenne’s eyes widened. “Wait.”
“Yes, I’m coming with you. Most of us are.”
“Right. It’s a party, then.”
Maleshi turned her gaze to Ember and smiled. “The whole shebang. I’m glad you decided to come with us too, Ember.”
The fae girl let out a wry laugh. “Not sure I have much of a choice.”
“That’s a load of shit. Give yourself more credit.” With a firm nod, the general shook out her hands and lifted them in front of her. “Shall we?”
“Nothing else to handle before we head out.” Cheyenne slipped into her trench coat, then grabbed her backpack and slung the straps over her shoulders. “Speaking of handling things…”