by Martha Carr
“Yeah, I’d probably stick by that choice too.”
Cheyenne scanned the countless buttons covering the control console. “Can you turn the sound off in here?”
The guard snorted. “Not for you. It takes special clearance. You ready?”
She nodded and stared out into the darkness of the Dungeon. That might come in handy.
When the guard pressed another button and the door buzzed open with a little click, the drow halfling didn’t hesitate. She pushed open the door this time and stepped into the main cavern. Her nose filled with the scent of damp stone and a stronger metallic odor and the same undertone of freshly baked bread.
The booth’s door banged shut behind her, and she didn’t turn around this time before stalking across the open space toward the thick iron bars running floor to ceiling and the huge half-circle of prison cell on the other side.
L’zar was waiting for her, his arms folded and his body turned sideways toward the bars as she approached. Bright white teeth flashed at her from behind his slate-gray lips, and his bone-white hair was pulled back behind his head a little tighter this time. “I wait twenty-one years, and now it’s twice in four days. Just can’t stay away, can you?”
“I tried.” Cheyenne stopped near the bars, echoing her drow father’s posture and folding her arms too. She didn’t grab the chair this time. “But I didn’t come back just for me.”
“That’s a sweet gesture, kid, but I’m doin’ okay. Got the luxury suite and everything.” L’zar spread his arms and gazed around the cell with another low chuckle.
“Not here for you either, but there might be something we can both get out of this.” The halfling lifted her chin and waited for him to settle his attention on her again.
His gaze fell to the pendant against her turtleneck and the Heart of Midnight stone at its center. L’zar’s eyebrows lifted, and he stepped toward the iron bars before leaning sideways against them. “That’s a nice little bauble.”
The halfling studied her father’s face and took a deep breath. They can hear everything in the booth. Careful. “You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? And you know who gave it to me.”
L’zar’s lips parted in the same feral grin. The image of her dream flashed without warning through Cheyenne’s mind—this drow looking at her, not with self-satisfaction and a secret knowing, but with fear and pain contorting his face. She shook it away and stood her ground in front of the bars.
“I should.” The drow’s eyes lingered on the stone, then slowly traveled up to his daughter’s face. “I gave it to him.”
“Right. Well, you should know we’ve started.”
“You have?” L’zar’s smile and wide golden eyes went from feral to crazed, maybe even starving. “That’s very good to hear.”
What’s good for me is good for him, right? The halfling nodded and stepped toward the bars, lowering her voice. “I heard you can tell me how to speed things up.”
“Look at you. Now you’re asking the right questions.” Another chuckle escaped the prisoner, ending in a low growl. Then he took one lunging step toward the bars and wrapped those long, slender fingers of purple-gray around them. “I would love to, Cheyenne.”
She took a quick, small step back, leaning away from the mad glow of those eyes between the bars.
He chuckled again. “How have your dreams been lately?”
Pressing her lips together, the halfling took a deep breath and stood her ground. He’s talking in riddles. Talk back. “Only the scion never pursued will rise to their destiny.”
L’zar’s eyes widened before narrowing into glowing slits, and he tilted his head. “Does that part stand out for you above all the others, then?”
“I’ve heard it before. Yes.”
“Mm. So have I.” The drow pressed the side of his head against the closest iron bar and blinked slowly. “Try meditating on it. I hear meditation has a long list of benefits.”
“That’s your advice?” Cheyenne’s fists clenched against her folded arms. It means something. Just keep going.
“That’s my advice. How does it speed things up for you? You won’t find out until you try. But do try, yeah?” His gaze traveled up and down the bars closest to his face. “I’m anxious to hear what happens when you do. And tell our mutual friend to show you the Don’adurr Thread. It’s an effective spell, and a little extra support never hurt anyone.”
“I’ll tell him. Thank you.”
L’zar’s next slow, lazy chuckle was quieter. “Don’t thank me just yet, Cheyenne. There’s much between the end of the beginning and the beginning of the end. Just like this conversation, hmm?”
The halfling swallowed. That one went over my head. “Maybe.”
“Now, what else did you come here to ask?”
Cheyenne’s skin crawled with the anger that question brought up. She automatically drew herself back together to push down the inevitably rising heat of her drow magic, but it wasn’t there. The pendant suddenly felt incredibly heavy hanging around her neck. “A bunch of kids went missing yesterday.”
“Right.” L’zar pulled back away from the bars, and his maniacal interest died out. Purple-gray nostrils flared a little. “I heard about that. Somebody’s overstepping their bounds.”
“Do you know who it is?”
With a deep breath through his nose, the drow glanced past Cheyenne at the security booth spanning around the narrow hall behind her. “Before we get into that, satisfy one small, niggling bit of curiosity for me.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
“Did Carson step into the observation booth with you today?”
Cheyenne shook her head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
L’zar tsked and nodded, leaning farther to the side to get a better view of the booth. “You know, I’d forgotten about the little games he likes to play. Frustrating, isn’t it? How are you supposed to trust a man who won’t give you his name?”
The halfling’s eyes widened. He’s talking about Sir. “No, he’s somewhere else.”
“Why am I not surprised?” With another deep sigh, L’zar met his daughter’s gaze again and cocked his head. “The people you’re looking for are the same people who’ve been looking for you, Cheyenne. I suppose it’s time for you to find each other, isn’t it?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
A jolt of excitement shot through the halfling. Keep going. Carefully. “How do I find them?”
“Well, I’m assuming you’ve already seen them once or twice. That’s why you’re so upset by this whole thing, isn’t it? You know you have the answer, but it keeps slipping away, doesn’t it?” L’zar asked, wiggling his long fingers between the bars.
How do I already know? I have no idea where to start. Cheyenne forced herself not to look away from the drow prisoner, growing more irritated by the second. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me how to catch it.”
Chuckling, L’zar sniffed the air, then stepped away from the bars and clasped his hands behind his back. “You know, it’s incredibly hard to completely wash out the smell of ogre blood and fellwine.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“I bet you’ve noticed other things, haven’t you? Things those humans in helmets couldn’t possibly understand. Maybe even the other magicals they use to run their little errands for them.”
Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. Those are clues. Read between the lines, just like Mom taught you. “All of them?”
“Listen to you, searching through so many dark, narrow places. I like it.” L’zar winked, and a chill ran up the halfling’s spine. “Yes, Cheyenne. I’d go so far as to say all of them are unaware of the things you see, the strangeness. Many things have been brought together at certain points between this world and the other I no longer call home, like you. Even then, it’s inevitable the key points get lost in translation.”
Cheyenne shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and stalked along the outside of the bars. L’zar watched her inten
tly, his small smile returning. Everything he just said means something. He knows I was at that tavern in Peridosh, or at least a tavern. That’s one of those places where both worlds meet, just like the reservations.
She spun to pace back along the bars and looked at her father. L’zar tilted his head toward the other shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”
“Can you read my mind?”
He snickered. “Not at all. I can see it.” The drow bit down on the end of his dark tongue and grinned again before the smile faded.
“That’s not helping.” She stared at the stone again and kept moving across the floor. What did I notice?
“Do most people know who you are, Cheyenne? I don’t mean who your parents are, I mean you.”
“Not most people, no.” She kept pacing.
“Why not? Don’t you think they’d approve?”
The halfling jerked and froze. “Say that again.”
“There it is.” L’zar’s golden eyes burned from behind the bars, and he leaned toward her like he was about to pounce. “I see it right there before it comes crawling out. So close you could almost…”
The drow’s fist came down on the closest iron bar, which filled the chamber with a loud, metallic echo. Cheyenne’s eyes darted toward that bar of the cell, and L’zar hit it again. He kept pounding at it in a slow, steady rhythm, the sound of fist on metal ringing through the wide chamber of the Dungeon until it drowned out the sound of the halfling’s breath in her ears.
The drow prisoner raised his eyebrows and kept pounding with a tiny, knowing smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
Like the other magicals at that tavern. And at Rez 38. What did I notice?
“Someone’s been lying to you, Cheyenne,” L’zar shouted over the clang of his fist against the iron. “Would they approve?”
Then it clicked.
“Holy shit,” she whispered and whirled to stalk back toward the booth at the other end of the Dungeon.
“And now she’s back in the game,” L’zar roared behind her. “Give ‘em hell!”
The halfling sped up as she neared the booth, and she slapped a hand on the door. L’zar laughed behind her as he pounded the iron bar.
The door buzzed, and the guard pushed it open to let her inside. “No safe word this time, huh?”
“I didn’t need it. Didn’t really need it last time, either.” Cheyenne reached the opposite door in two huge steps and tried to shove it open. “Hey, press the button already. We gotta go.”
“What the hell was all that about, rookie?” Rhynehart stared at her, then glanced uncertainly through the window at the Dungeon and the crazed drow having some kind of mental breakdown.
“I know where to find those kids.” The guard buzzed the door open, and Cheyenne slammed against it before stepping down into the narrow stone hallway.
Rhynehart quickly followed her, and the guard pulled the door closed again. “I call bullshit. The drow didn’t say a damn thing about the kids or who took them. I heard the whole thing, kid. Just a bunch of crazy talk.”
“Yeah. That’s what it sounded like, huh?” The elevator doors opened just in time for her to shove the grate aside without stopping and storm inside. She didn’t bother closing it behind Rhynehart before the elevator doors shut and they started moving.
“Then what kinda game are you playing, Cheyenne?”
She turned toward the FRoE agent and shook her head. “Not a game. I’m sure about this.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Then you better spill it right now.”
The halfling laughed and ran a hand through her dyed-black hair. “The FRoE’s got a mole.”
“A what?”
“Turncoat. Traitor. Double agent. Whatever.”
“You’re as crazy as L’zar.”
“I’m not crazy!” With clenched fists, Cheyenne forced herself to breathe. Would’ve gone full drow there without this pendant. “Who was in the gate tower on Rez 38 the day you took me there? The goblin.”
“Hell, rookie, I don’t know every operative’s goddamn name.”
“Well, you should. ‘Cause that’s the guy we need to find to find those kids.”
“That’s real funny.” Rhynehart scowled at her. “I’m not going on a manhunt in my own organization just because you pulled a name out of a hat. Or a face. Whatever.”
“Rhynehart, it’s him.”
“Nope. Sorry. I can’t take your word for it without any proof. And from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re grasping at straws.”
“No, that’s what you’re doing.” The halfling stared at the elevator ceiling and shook off the urgent frustration crawling across her back. “Okay, I’ll try to map it out for you. The FRoE only enlists magicals who were born Earthside, right?”
He frowned. “Yeah. As long as I’ve been doin’ this, yeah.”
“There’s a big difference between the people born here and the people who made the crossing. Sure, they’re all magicals, same races, same basic understanding of how the Border and the reservations work. But there’s a lot of stuff brought across the Border the magicals who were born here don’t even know about.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Do you know what it meant when they all started banging on stuff at Rez 38?”
Rhynehart lifted his chin and frowned down at her like he was actually insulted. “No. And neither do you.”
“Yeah, I don’t have to know what it means. I just have to know the difference between the magicals from the other side and ones your people hire to be FRoE agents.”
“Okay, you’ve lost me completely.”
“The goblin in the gate tower, Rhynehart! He’s one of yours, or at least he’s pretending to be. I went out with Yurik and the others last night, and the same thing happened there. A bunch of magicals started pounding on metal crap, and none of those agents knew what the hell it was about. But the goblin on Rez 38? He sure as hell did.”
The elevator came to a stop, and Cheyenne would’ve blasted through the slowly opening doors if it weren’t for the pendant. Then they were finally open, and she stormed across the linoleum floors toward the metal detector.
“Okay, how the hell is that supposed to prove this is our guy? Maybe he’s spent too long on the rez, huh? Maybe he’s heard the stories and thought he’d try playing old-school from the other side.”
“Well, that’s the other part.” Cheyenne stopped in front of the metal detector when the closest guard held up a hand.
He bent toward the radio at his shoulder. “Donahue, they just came back up. Yeah, I’m sure. They’re standing in front of me.”
Rhynehart stared at her and shoved his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “I’m still waiting for the other part.”
The halfling rubbed her forehead. One thing to know something. Now I have to put it into small, easy words for the guy. “Who else knows about the construction site we blew up yesterday?”
“Just those of us who went in. And Sir.” The man chewed his bottom lip. “No one else needed to know.”
“Right, and did you send anyone back there after we took off?”
“No. Even if I did, there’s nothing left for anyone to find.”
“Almost nothing. But I—”
Door 4 buzzed and burst open with a clang, letting out a fuming Sir. “I brought you all the way out here so you could have another sit-down with that goddamn drow, halfling, and you’re down there for what? Twenty minutes? Don’t tell me you got L’zar to sing like a bird in twenty minutes.”
“He didn’t sing anything,” Rhynehart muttered.
“Just listen to me!” The halfling glared at both men, and even with the pendant dampening her ability to slip into drow mode, Sir and Rhynehart shut their mouths and paid attention. “I saw an imp yesterday with stuff from the site—the backpack and a necklace. Not the kind you see everywhere.”
“Oh, now you’re asking imps f
or help, huh?” Sir spread his arms. “How stupid do you think we are?”
“Pretty damn stupid if you don’t hear me out on this. The imp said he got the stuff from a demolished building. He said a goblin told him he could have whatever he wanted from the wreckage.”
“Lotta goblins in Virginia, rookie.”
Cheyenne leaned toward him and raised her eyebrows. “Not wearing black hats with a thirty-eight on the front.”
Rhynehart’s eyes widened as a flush climbed up his neck. “Son of a bitch.”
He whirled away from the halfling and stomped back through the metal detector. Cheyenne took off after him, and Sir tossed his hands in the air. “Bunch of goddamn chickens runnin’ around this place. Who else hasn’t gotten their head cut off yet?”
Stepping up to the intake window of tempered glass, Rhynehart tapped on the counter and nodded at the officer on the other side. “Can you reach the duty logs from in here?”
“Yeah. What do you need?”
“Can’t remember the guy’s name. goblin agent working the gate tower for Rez 38 on…”
The blood rushing through Cheyenne’s ears drowned out pretty much everything as Rhynehart went to go double-check what she’d just told him. He’ll find out I’m right. I know I’m right.
Sir stepped up beside her and muttered, “You better hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Well, that makes two of us, doesn’t it? Carson.”
Sir’s eyes twitched when she said his name, then he stepped sideways to face Rhynehart at the counter and clasped his hands behind his back. “That’s Major Carson, Cheyenne. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“You sure about that?” Rhynehart leaned toward the guard on the other side of the tempered glass, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, it’s right here. Didn’t show up for his post this morning. It’s a real bitch, too, ‘cause he was scheduled for a two-week shift on the rez. They found someone else, but it threw a wrench in his stacked vacation time.”