by Martha Carr
Persh’al finally met her gaze in the mirror and held it. Then he chuckled. “I can’t get over how much you’re like him, kid. Sure. After we figure out what the hell this new portal’s been stirring up, I’ll give you the grand tour. How’s that sound?”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Cheyenne looked out the window again as the goblins beside her laughed.
“No way you’re not L’zar’s kid,” Byrd said.
“Careful, Persh’al.” Lumil pointed at the troll behind the wheel. “You got this halfling holding you to a promise now. You know what happens if you try to back out.”
“Not gonna happen.” Persh’al’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his irritation returning. “My word’s a steel trap, Lumil. Helps that I don’t have ‘turncoat’ on my rap sheet.”
Lumil snorted. “Please. If we don’t all have a fat black mark on our names by now, we sure as hell will soon enough. Don’t tell me I don’t know how to keep a promise.”
“Nope. Just implying it.” The small tablet resting in the cubby below the dashboard let out a series of high-pitched chimes. Persh’al glanced down at it and slowed the SUV to a crawl on the road. “We’re close.”
“Where is it?” Corian asked, scanning the surrounding trees through his window and the windshield.
“Half a mile west.” The troll pulled over and pointed into the thick forest on their left. “I’m not gettin’ this thing through the woods. Who’s up for a little hike?”
Byrd rolled his eyes. “I’m tellin’ ya, portals are the way to go.”
“Not unless you wanna get your head blown off the minute you step through,” Lumil muttered as she ripped off her seatbelt and shoved the back door open.
“You don’t know something’s waiting there to blow my head off.” Byrd scooted toward the open door as the other goblin’s boots crunched across the gravel.
Corian turned in the passenger seat and caught the goblin’s gaze. “You don’t know something’s not there waiting for us.”
Byrd shrugged and leaped out after Lumil.
When everyone had stepped out of the car and all the doors were shut, Persh’al nodded across the dirt road. “Not too much of a walk. Anyone else think it’s weirdly convenient to a road?”
“Convenience or coincidence?” Corian cocked his head. “We’re about to find out.”
Cheyenne followed the group of L’zar Verdys’ long-time magical friends into the thick woods stretching on either side of the dirt road. The five of them moved with practiced silence through the trees, barely making a sound. They’ve had a lot more experience with this, and I’m still just as quiet. Byrd should quit breathing through his mouth.
They’d gone about a quarter of a mile when the halfling felt a foreign prickle of buzzing energy wash over her. The others stopped beside her, feeling the same magical energy, and exchanged glances. Corian pointed at his eyes, then at the goblins. Without a word, Byrd and Lumil nodded and took off to the north and south.
Now they’re scouting.
The Nightstalker nodded at Persh’al, then his gaze fell on the drow halfling. He pointed straight ahead, and Cheyenne nodded even as a chill raced down her spine.
Something’s not right here. They all feel it too.
For a split second, her body fought the command to move forward. She pushed herself to keep moving after Corian and Persh’al through the thickly wooded forest and the dense undergrowth at their feet.
No one made a sound for the next quarter-mile of their little hike. Even the natural sounds of a forest were missing—no birdcalls, no rustling of small animals through the brush. The only thing greeting them was the light shush of a breeze blowing across the treetops.
Cheyenne heard the low hum a full minute before she, Persh’al, and Corian stepped out into the clearing—like a huge motor rumbling from somewhere miles underground. The tingling buzz of a magic she hadn’t felt before intensified across her skin.
As soon they cleared the trees, they found themselves standing in front of a hill of jagged black rock jutting up from the forest floor. Looks more like splintered wood than stone. Cheyenne gazed at the twenty-foot spires and frowned. That isn’t supposed to be here.
Beside her, Corian’s hands moved quickly, his lips silently muttering another spell. A wave of shimmering light rippled away from him in all directions, washing over Persh’al and the halfling before spreading out toward the black spears of stone that had pushed up from the earth. Then the shimmering air disappeared, and the Nightstalker shook his head. “Nobody here.”
“We could’ve told you that,” Byrd said as he stepped around the lowest rise of upturned earth toward them. “This ridge goes on for at least another mile to the west.”
Lumil appeared on Corian’s right, tossing her shaggy yellow hair out of her eyes. “Nothing around the north side.”
Corian turned toward the troll. “Persh’al?”
“With all the magic here, I’m surprised my alarms weren’t going off every half-hour instead.” Persh’al scratched the shaved side of his head and shrugged. “This clearing’s big enough to host decent-sized operations, though. I’m thinking convenience.”
“Yeah, me too.” Corian folded his arms and turned back toward the spires. “Especially if this ridge runs as far as Byrd says it does. Wouldn’t be too hard to reconfigure things into an active tower from here.”
“Nope.” Persh’al cocked his head. “About a week, with the right gear.”
Cheyenne stepped across the clearing to get a better view of the black stone. Those could be teeth in some giant, messed-up mouth.
A dark shadow stirred within the rising spires—just a flicker, there one moment and vanished again behind another fist of black stone the next. She cleared her throat. “When you say, ‘convenience,’ you mean someone might’ve opened this portal on purpose, right?”
All four magicals turned toward her.
“Yes, Cheyenne.” Corian nodded once, his silver eyes narrowed with suspicion. “There’s a chance someone on the other side put a lot of work into opening an unregulated Border portal. Still, without any proof, it’s hard to say if that’s what happened.”
The halfling nodded toward the high ridges of jutting stone stretching farther to the west than she could see. “There might be proof in there.”
Corian turned to study the stone. Another dark shape rose between the black spires, glistening in the morning light spilling into the clearing. The Nightstalker stepped across the open ground toward Cheyenne, followed quickly by Persh’al and the goblins. Every pair of eyes searched for more movement in the newest Border portal.
“I’d say you’re right,” Corian muttered. “Only one way to find out.”
A bolt of silver light shot from the Nightstalker’s hand toward the black stone. It hissed between the two closest spires and struck something. Silver sparks flared as Corian’s magic crackled across its target, flashing between the fists of black stone in both directions. A low growl rose from the center of the stone ridge. That growl quickly turned into an ear-splitting roar, and a massive shape as black as the portal stone rose from between the rocky pillars.
“What the hell is that?” Persh’al muttered.
The beast within the stone heaved, rising above the black spires and casting an even longer shadow across the clearing as it reared above them.
Corian sucked a breath through his teeth. “Not what I was expecting.”
Chapter Seventy-One
A giant tentacle wider than any of the trees around them lurched into the sky, waving in warning. The creature it belonged to let out another howling roar. The ground shook beneath them.
“That doesn’t belong here,” Persh’al murmured, his orange eyes traveling up the length of the threatening, glistening appendage.
Byrd scoffed and shot the troll an exasperated glance. “What gave it away, genius?”
“You know what? I have half a mind to shove you through that portal so you can come back with a detai
led report—”
“Watch out!” Cheyenne shoved Persh’al to the side as the massive tentacle slammed down with surprising speed. A spray of dirt and brown grass erupted along either side of the tentacle before it withdrew again.
The troll licked his lips and patted the halfling’s shoulder. “I owe you for that one, kid.”
“Don’t worry about owing me anything. Just—”
Another tentacle shot out from between the pillars and wrapped around Persh’al’s throat. In a flash of silver light, the clearing filled with the song of metal slicing through the air. Black fluid sprayed, and the now shorter tendril flapped madly in the air before withdrawing. The stump of slick, glistening black tentacle loosened from around the troll’s throat.
Corian’s hand was still raised after he’d severed the tentacle with one slash of the very metallic-looking claws jutting four inches from the tips of his fingers.
“Damn the Crown and all this bullshit!” Persh’al struggled fiercely to remove the slimy tentacle from around his neck before he chucked it at the ground. It writhed on its own, then fell still.
“Oh, shit.” Lumil glanced between the severed limb and Persh’al’s throat. Her hand lifted toward the scar around her neck.
“Cheyenne.” Corian stepped out to squarely face the jagged stone pillars, his voice steady and firm in the silence of the clearing as the enormous tentacle waved yards above the tallest spire. “For now, I want you to forget everything I said about keeping that pendant on.”
“Yep.” She struggled with the knot in the thin silver chain around her neck. I need a better way to secure this thing. Lifting the pendant out from under her sweatshirt, she gave it a quick jerk and broke the chain. The Heart of Midnight went into her pocket. Her drow magic flared at the base of her spine as if it had been waiting for its moment of freedom.
“Oh-ho shit.” Lumil grinned when she saw Cheyenne’s transformation from pale Goth human to the purple-gray skin, stark white hair, and pointed ears of the halfling’s drow heritage.
Cheyenne ignored her.
“Any pointers on this one?” Byrd asked, his eyes darting between the massive tentacle and the quickening movement between the stone pillars.
“Yeah.” Persh’al summoned an orb of spitting, whirring blue magic in his palm. “Don’t let those things grab you by the throat.”
A spinning circle of blazing red light appeared around Lumil’s clenched fist as she raised it. “What’s it waiting for?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Corian replied without turning around. A shock of brilliant silver light flashed from the tips of his tufted ears to his boots. “Just be ready.”
Two more thin black tentacles curled around the closest spires of rock, flickering in and out like snake’s tongues. Another earth-rattling roar rose from the center of the portal ridge, rocking the ground just before a massive crack split the air. A fast, urgent skitter grew louder behind the black columns of stone.
Sounds like bugs. Cheyenne brought up a sphere of crackling black energy. Lots of really big bugs.
The air filled with the crack of heavy stone, and the portal ridge widened. Dark, shimmering light erupted from the gaping chasm growing wider between the spires. It shot straight into the air and hung there like a curtain along the length of black stone stretching to the west.
“Eyes open,” Corian shouted.
The first creature to emerge from the crevasse in the center of the ridge looked like a massive black beetle. It darted around the stone pillars and stopped when it noticed the five magicals standing at the ready inside the clearing. Then it rose on what would have been its back legs, and a gaping red mouth opened in its underbelly to let out a piercing shriek.
“Shit.” Byrd’s hands erupted with green fire. “Not again.”
“Not here is more like it.” Corian didn’t move. “We wait.”
“For what?” Lumil shot the Nightstalker a wide-eyed glance. “Those fucking things aren’t supposed to—”
The beetle screeched again and leaped through the jagged black stone toward them. It scrambled across the clearing toward the goblin woman, flipping sideways and upside-down as a hundred more legs appeared along every surface of its glistening carapace.
Lumil waited until the thing was almost upon her, and sent a crippling uppercut into the not-beetle’s underbelly. The red light encircling her fist ripped through the creature, shattering it into hundreds of pieces and raining down thick chunks of black goo on all of them.
“The first attack,” Corian said with a nod.
“What?” Persh’al scowled at the Nightstalker. “You don’t call the fucking tentacle that tried to hang me the first attack?”
“More like a first taste, Persh’al, and you know it.”
“Damnit, Corian. We’re not equipped to handle the in-between spilling out where it doesn’t belong.”
“Hold your fucking position, troll.” Corian still didn’t turn around to face the blue-skinned Persh’al, but Cheyenne could hear the venom in the Nightstalker’s command.
Like he’s ordered plenty of people around on a battlefield. Is he—
The ground bucked beneath them, sending the five magicals stumbling. The rift in the center of the black ridge opened even wider with a shiver, ripping from some unseen place below them. The skittering of huge, hard legs across stone echoed everywhere, then the newest Border portal unleashed a swarm.
Glistening black carapaces surged up from beneath the ground and from behind the wall of dark shimmering light at the same time. The air filled with screeching cries as the beetle-like creatures rushed into the clearing. One of them launched itself over the top of a shorter black spire, its red mouth stretching wide in its underbelly as it headed for the halfling.
Cheyenne launched her black crackling orb straight at that mouth, choking off the shriek on impact. The beetle exploded in mid-air and rained down hard shell and guts everywhere.
Corian darted through the rushing swarm in a blazing trail of silver light. Huge black bodies the size of ponies flew through the air wherever that silver light erupted. Lumil and Byrd shouted battle cries as the goblin man set green fire to the rushing monstrosities and his partner blasted their mindless attackers to smithereens with the spells swirling around her turquoise fists. Persh’al raised his hand, and when he brought it down, a whip of sizzling green light emerged.
Cheyenne scanned the oncoming rush of creatures and hurled black orbs of energy into them one after another. The black bodies erupted on impact, sending bug parts flying back toward the ridge.
The horrid creatures just kept coming, spilling from the wall of shimmering light. Persh’al’s green whip of magic split through the hard shells like a sword, and the other magicals didn’t have any trouble fighting back.
Three of the beetles skittered toward the mohawked troll at an abnormal speed. One of them stopped to rear up again and unleashed a vile spray of black goo toward Persh’al. Cheyenne threw up a shield in front of the troll and his whip, then blasted the closest beetle to pieces before reaching out with the black tendrils of her magic. They wrapped around the spitting beetle and squeezed. The creature screeched again before bursting like an overripe berry two seconds later.
This is too easy.
The halfling quickly checked the other magicals, but they were busy handling the surge of the creatures jumping, spitting, hissing, and scrambling across the ground. Then she looked at the massive tentacle waving above the tallest black spires like a banner in the wind.
That’s the one to take down.
Without thinking about it, she clapped and summoned black crackling energy in both hands. Her spells converged into a roiling sphere twice the size of her head, casting black and purple light on her face.
“Cheyenne, wait!” Corian’s warning came too late.
The halfling’s extra-large dose of black energy hurtled toward the tentacle. Her attack rocked it into the wall of shimmering black light, and a quaking bellow ra
ttled through her head.
The rush of disgusting beetle-things stopped, the last few skittering between the rocky spires with undiminished urgency until they were demolished by Lumil’s fist and Byrd’s green fire.
The ground trembled again, and the huge tentacle pulled itself out of the shimmering wall of light and rose dozens of yards higher into the air. It stopped undulating like a pennant and froze, perfectly straight, above the Border portal.
“Quick thinking, kid.” Corian turned toward the halfling and shook his head in a warning jerk. “But wrong.”
“That thing’s in control, isn’t it?” Cheyenne pointed at the stock-still tentacle.
“Probably. But we’re not—”
The ground bucked again, and the crevasse that had opened inside the portal ridge shuddered open even wider. The earth groaned, the forest around them creaking with falling trees as the black stone split apart. A dozen more spires shot from the ground, rising taller than the ones that were already there. Then the wall of shimmering black light darkened until it blocked almost all of the sunlight and cast the entire clearing into darkness.
“Yeah, that’s what I’d hoped to avoid.”
Cheyenne glared at the Nightstalker. “And what’s that, exactly?”
“We’re standing on the verge of a new portal, kid. And I mean on the verge.”
“Like we’re about to cross through it?” The halfling glanced around the darkened clearing.
“Not if we can help it.”
A grating growl rose from the center of the portal, a lot louder and closer than any of the other cries. The ridge split wider as a massive black shape clawed its way out of the earth and rose to its full height. The tendril reaching into the sky slammed onto the ground between the split group of fighting magicals, morphing into a gnarled claw digging trenches into the dirt as its owner pulled itself out of the crevasse.
Corian snarled at the claw dragging back toward the portal ridge. “Not if we can keep that thing where it belongs.”