by Martha Carr
“This is how it’s done. You say his name and drink it, then I tell you good luck, and we wait for the Don’adurr to run its course.”
Cheyenne eyed the mystery potion a little longer. “I should’ve asked that crazy drow for a Plan B.”
“Hey.” When she looked at him, Corian leaned toward her and raised his eyebrows. “Do you trust me?”
“I thought I did.”
“Cut the smartass remarks. I’m serious.”
“So far, yeah.”
“Good. And I trust that crazy drow, however hard it is for you to believe.” He pointed at the mortar. “Drink it. It won’t hurt if that’s what you’re wondering about. Not that I’ve heard about, at least.”
“See, comments like that are earning you negative points on the trust scale.” Despite everything, Cheyenne reached for the mortar with both hands and lifted it into her lap. “How much of this is going down the hatch?”
“It’ll be more effective with all of it, but as much as you can.”
“Okay.” With a hesitant nod at the stone bowl in her hands, she lifted it to her mouth and muttered, “L’zar Verdys.”
The mortar was cold against her lips, but the potion inside it felt like melted ice. She chugged down as much as she could before the overwhelming, fruity bitterness almost made her choke. She put the bowl back down on the dry grass, and Corian leaned sideways to peer at what was left. “Good enough. Good luck.”
With the potion still trailing an icy line down her throat and into her stomach, Cheyenne looked at her Nightstalker mentor with wide eyes. “What now?”
One of his ears twitched again, sending ripples of fur floating away from his face and dancing across the air. She giggled. I don’t giggle. What the hell?
The grass grew in front of her eyes when she looked down, then shrank back to its normal size again. A wave broke somewhere off the island, echoing a hundred times before Cheyenne turned to look out across the ocean. Heavy dizziness made her sway when she turned her head. The starlight pulsed in her vision, brighter and brighter, and the next thing she knew, she sank down onto her back to lie in the dirt on Alcatraz Island.
Great. He just made me dark-elf LSD. Not that I have anything to compare it to, but I am tripping right now.
“Whoops!” The word escaped her in a high-pitched squeak, and the halfling giggled again. Keep it together. Don’t go all… Who put those faces in the sky?
Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy when she closed them, her head spinning faster by the second. Then the dizziness and the feeling of floating out of her body and even the sound of the crashing waves stopped. Cheyenne couldn’t even hear the muted rush of cars and pedestrians enjoying just a regular Thursday night in San Francisco. There was nothing.
When the halfling opened her eyes again, she found herself sitting on the stone floor of a small dark room. The steel door on her right wasn’t a door at all but a wall of iron bars. Through the bars, she saw metal staircases and walkways, more rows of iron bars stretching across the far wall, and glowing red light shining down on all of it from somewhere up high. Then her gaze settled on the thin cot on the other side of the tiny room.
“What the hell?”
L’zar Verdys’ eyes flew open and locked onto her with that unnerving golden glow. “Cheyenne,” he whispered. Then his stoic face split into another one of those crazed grins, and he pushed himself up and gripped the edge of the thin mattress. “This is a nice surprise.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The halfling glanced around her drow father’s cell at Chateau D’rahl and gritted her teeth. “What is this?”
“The Don’adurr Thread. I can only assume Corian made it for you,” said L’zar, his loosely tied white hair coming undone and falling around his shoulders. “That was fast. I’ll give you that.”
“You’re telling me crap I already know.” Cheyenne tried to get up off the floor, but apparently, she couldn’t move as much as she wanted. “You need to tell me how the hell I got into your prison cell. And why I can’t move.”
The grinning drow chuckled. “The Don’adurr allows us to speak a little more freely to each other. You know, without a moron in a booth listening in on every word. This is how I prefer it.”
When he winked at her, a burst of purple sparks exploded in the halfling’s hands. They both looked down at her spell, which wavered in and out of existence. Cheyenne frowned and lifted her hand toward her face until the sparks petered out—not because she’d cut off her magic, but because it didn’t come through as clearly as she did. She turned her hand over and could see the cracks in the stone floor through her palm.
I know I’m pale in human form, but this is taking it a little too far.
“Corian made me drink that stuff for some kind of...drow astral projection?”
“If that’s the best way for you to wrap your head around it, sure.” L’zar sat up and propped his forearms on his thighs over the gray prison-issue sweatpants. “It’s an old trick, but it never fails. I’m glad to see your drow blood runs as true on the inside as it does on the outside.”
“Blood bonds with blood and all that, huh?”
The drow prisoner’s grin disappeared, and he blinked once before plastering the mad smile on his face again. “That’s something we can return to another time. Right now, I believe you want to ask me again how to speed up your trials. That’s why you’re here tonight.” His low chuckle echoed a little in the cramped cell. “Well, in a manner of speaking.”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.” This is the last thing I expected, but it’s a way in, I guess. Cheyenne took a deep breath and stared at her incarcerated father until she realized he was waiting for her to move this weird-ass conversation forward. “Okay. How do I speed things up?”
“How many layers of the Cuil Aníl have you unlocked already?”
“Two.”
L’zar cocked his head with a little frown. “So few, huh? Yes. Good thing you came to ask for help.”
Cheyenne pressed her clenched fists into her thighs.
“That’s all right, Cheyenne. Everyone starts somewhere. So, you’ve got two under your belt, and there are five. For most of us, at any rate. What other abilities have popped up out of nowhere?”
If he didn’t know about the drow trials, I’d swear he’s been stalking me. From a magical prison. The halfling licked her lips and forced herself to focus on the conversation and the answers she might finally receive. “Ripping up the ground, for starters.”
“Oh.” L’zar’s thin white eyebrows rose. “A connection with the earth is a lot more subtle than most are willing to believe. No control with that one, I’m guessing.”
“Clearly.”
“Hmm.” His smile was tight-lipped and grim now.
Good. Finally struck a nerve.
“Any others?”
Cheyenne lifted her chin and said, “I threw some goblins into the ceiling without casting a spell.”
“Useful.”
“And I almost knocked an ogre’s head off his shoulders when my fist burst into black flames. Didn’t get to use that one.”
L’zar’s eyes widened in tandem with that creepy grin again. “There it is. That! Now, that is something I would very much like to see.”
“Then tell me how to speed it up.” Cheyenne shot him a sideways glance. “And stop looking at me like I’m a sixteen-ounce steak.”
He chuckled and shook his head, dipping it to his shoulder to run a hand over the top of his white hair. “Better save that one for later.”
“You have no idea how sick I am of hearing that. Why save that one for later? You’re obviously looking forward to it.”
The drow lifted his head to peer at her from beneath those thin eyebrows. “When you get there, Cheyenne, you’ll know why. Any other latent powers creeping up on you before we move on to the father-daughter advice schtick?” He spat the last word through his teeth.
He’s insane. Excited and pissed off at the same time. Cheyenne
closed her eyes and forced herself not to give away her thoughts. Okay, admittedly, that applies to me too.
“I see those wheels turning again. Something you’d like to get off your chest?” L’zar leaned closer, his golden eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every detail.
“I already covered the part about you not looking at me like that, didn’t I?” Normally she would’ve stormed out at that point and left him to his messed-up thoughts, but she stayed right where she was with her legs crossed. Drow ritual, my ass. Might as well be locked up in this prison right next to him. The ghost of a shiver trickled down her spine.
“I’ve spent twenty-one years waiting to look at you, Cheyenne.” L’zar’s smile remained, but his voice was low and threatening. “If I want to spend a few minutes taking in the sight of my daughter, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” He pulled back a little as if he’d just ripped himself out of whatever rage had been building beneath that tight smile. “Besides, I’m an excellent multi-tasker.”
“Then multi-task and tell me how to speed things up.” The halfling swallowed. He doesn’t like being told what to do any more than I do. “Please.”
“Ah, yes. That was a good start.” Leaning back, the drow prisoner propped his hands behind him on the mattress and crossed one long leg over the opposite knee. “Start with either the telekinesis or the earth-ripping, whichever comes easiest. And when you’re working on those, focus on the Nimlothar seed. I’m sure Corian told you what that is already.”
“Yeah. The tree tied to drow magic.”
“Very simplistic. I suppose there’s a time and a place for that too.” L’zar tilted his head from side to side as he studied her. “Draw on the seed for an extra boost, yeah? When you learn to tap into the Nimlothar, you’re unlocking a lot more than just the trials. Centuries of magic and knowledge grow on those trees, Cheyenne. Same as in the blood you and I share.”
“That’s it?” The halfling studied her father’s apathetic expression. “Focus on a seed I swallowed while I’m trying to focus on training with new abilities?”
“Well, there’s a certain art to it, but it becomes second nature. Eventually.”
“Any tips on how to do that?”
He chuckled. “I heard meditating helps.”
Cheyenne snorted and closed her eyes. This was a waste of time. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.
“I’m serious about that, Cheyenne. A little meditation and centering go a long way.”
“Yeah, I’m taking notes. Thanks.” When she opened her eyes again, he laughed at her, his leg bouncing up and down where it crossed over his other knee. “So, since we’re speaking more freely, maybe you can answer another question for me.”
“Ooh. We’re opening up, are we?”
Don’t push it. “What’s with the bull’s head?”
L’zar’s leg stopped bouncing. “You’ll have to be more specific. Earth’s a relatively big realm. Lotta bulls.”
She gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep going. “Specifically, the ones worn by more assholes than I can count hunting me down and trying to open a bunch of portals around me. Ring a bell?”
For the first time, the drow prisoner looked like he didn’t want her there. L’zar swallowed and pressed his lips together, but his smile lost all trace of amusement. “Portals.”
“Yeah. And nobody will tell me what the hell those people want from me. They’re everywhere. One of them blew up my car this morning, and I’m pretty sure he was the same moron who drew a bloody symbol on my front door. Same thing with the pieces of shit who kidnapped all those kids for whatever sick ritual they were planning. I can keep going if you need the full list.”
“So, you found those kids after all.”
“Yeah, by following a guy pretending to be— You know what? That’s more stuff I already know. I asked you what the bull’s head is and why those nutjobs are telling me to just give up already and swear fealty so some chick can finally get her way, or whatever.” Cheyenne took a deep breath and brushed her hair away from her face. “I know it has something to do with the drow trials, too. Even Corian said someone doesn’t want me to finish them—”
“Yeah, well, someone can go fuck themselves!” L’zar lurched forward again, his eyes blazing.
The inmate on the other side of L’zar’s cell pounded a huge fist into the wall they shared. “Keep it the fuck down, Verdys. I’m tired of your shit.”
The drow looked slowly over his shoulder to glare at the wall and pulled himself back together with a deep breath.
Cheyenne stared at the wall too. They can all hear him talking to himself.
Slowly, he turned back around and blinked quickly, like the interruption was sand grains in his eye. “None of that is for you to worry about, Cheyenne. That’s not why I made the crossing as many times as I did, and it will not stop you from being who you were meant to become. Nothing will.”
“It’s something for me to worry about when those people know where I live.”
“Then move. I can’t imagine you don’t have the means to do that, at the very least.”
The halfling barely felt her fingernails digging into her palms. Either she’d lost feeling already, or sensation wasn’t as strong on the astral-drow plane. “I need something more than that. Please.”
“You’ll have plenty more than that in time.” L’zar’s sneer wasn’t meant for her, but it made his daughter’s stomach clench just the same. “Not now. Just keep the pendant on until I say otherwise.”
She scoffed. “Should I be expecting a phone call?”
“Cute.” His nostrils flared even as he smiled at her. “This connection can be used any time you like, by the way, to reach out to me again. I’ll be—”
Footsteps pounded across the metal grate of the catwalks stretching across Alpha Block. Unintelligible shouts followed.
L’zar pushed himself back onto the bed and grimaced at the barred door of his cell. “They’ve got a knack for poor timing, I’ll give them that. Gotta love a random cell search, am I right?”
“What?”
“Our time’s up tonight, Cheyenne. The best time to reach me is after ten at night. Unless some asshole decides he wants to wake everyone up just to keep us on our toes,” the drow said, “nobody comes around after lights out. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back.”
The red light outside his cell winked out just before the room beyond filled with bright light. The muffled sound of the other inmates groaning in protest followed, and L’zar shot the drow halfling another wink before kicking his legs up onto the cot again and lying back with his hands laced behind his head.
The prison cell inside Chateau D’rahl and L’zar Verdys vanished, and Cheyenne was pulled back into her body without another word being said.
Chapter Forty-Six
Cheyenne jerked awake again with a gasp, her wide eyes fixed on all the stars dotted across the black sky. “Oh, sure. After ten. I’ll just call his assistant and have it put down on his schedule.”
Corian looked at her from where he’d been sitting, his legs crossed beneath him. “What was that?”
“The last word I didn’t have a chance to say.” Grunting, the halfling rolled over onto her side and pushed herself up. She crossed her legs again and gave herself a minute to recover. “That was nuts.”
“But it worked.”
She turned toward the Nightstalker and cocked her head. “You couldn’t have just said I’d be projecting myself into the prison to have a one-on-one with the guy? I mean, how hard is it to give me a warning?”
Corian shot her a crooked smile. “If I’d told you that, would you still have done it?”
Cheyenne blinked. “Okay, fair point. But you could’ve at least given me something more than ‘good luck.’”
He laughed as he gathered the leftover ingredients and set everything aside in a neat pile. “I’m equipped to guide you through the trials, kid. Even to throw spells at you and hope you figure out how to use y
our magic to get the job done. And I can make the Don’adurr. But that’s where my knowledge of it stops.”
“Yeah, if I knew how to make it, I’d probably use someone else as a guinea pig too.”
The Nightstalker shrugged and stood. “It’s a drow thing, Cheyenne. Trust me, I know just as much drow magic as L’zar. That’s helpful most of the time, but I can only use about a third of it.”
He stepped toward her and offered her a hand up. The halfling rolled her eyes but took his hand. Then she brushed the dirt and dry grass off her clothes, metal wrist-chains clinking. “Not something I’m interested in doing again.”
“But you can. If you want to. That’s what matters.”
“Well, right now, I’m focused on...training with you, I guess. We still have time for that, right?”
Corian’s amused little smirk made her want to attack him. “Plenty of time for that, yeah.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck. Time to switch gears from hardcore magical drugs to sparring with a Nightstalker. No big deal. “We don’t have to go through another round of ‘eat the seed, Cheyenne,’ do we?”
“The Nimlothar seed? No.” Corian’s feline nose wrinkled as he stepped backward, chuckling. “The trials start with one seed and end when that copper box over there is open and you’ve earned your legacy.”
The halfling pursed her lips. “Once you pop, the fun don’t stop, right?”
“Yes. A can of Pringles and your drow trials are exactly the same thing. Excellent parallel.”
Despite her frustration with all the secrets and vague answers and L’zar Verdys cutting off their unexpected astral conversation, Cheyenne couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m just good at those.”
“I hope you’re better at sparring.”
She grinned. “Don’t act like you haven’t seen me in action before.”
“Oh, I’ve seen it.” Corian dropped into a crouch like a huge panther on two legs about to jump into a tree. “I might even be impressed if I hadn’t had to run into that house and take care of every last magical for you.”