The Drow Hath Sent Thee

by Martha Carr

The swarming magical burst into millions of black specks and rematerialized on the other side of Persh’al. “If the Black Flame commands it.”

  Cheyenne blinked heavily. “I’m pretty sure I do, yeah.”

  One by one, the rest of L’zar’s underground rebels stepped forward to show their support for Persh’al Tenishi. Maleshi and Corian turned away from Cheyenne to face the blue troll and thumped their fists on their chests.

  “Shit.” Persh’al let out a high-pitched chuckle and shook his head. “You can’t be serious about this.”

  “Look at this.” Cheyenne pointed to her face, trying to hold herself together even as her eyelids fluttered again. I’m either gonna puke or pass out. “This is my serious face, troll. Suck it up and give your answer already.”

  “L’zar’s not gonna like this, kid.”

  “The only magical who has to deal with L’zar anymore is L’zar. Make your own damn decisions now, huh?”

  Maleshi’s silver eyes narrowed. “You good, kid?”

  “I want a goddamn yes or no.”

  “Like I have an answer?” Persh’al tossed his hands in the air. “You couldn’t have warned me? This was the last thing on my mind!” He paused and turned toward Elarit with wide eyes when she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  The troll woman dipped her head. “On a silver platter, ma gairín.”

  “A silver…” He swallowed and looked everywhere but at Cheyenne’s face until his yellow eyes finally settled on her golden ones. “Yeah. I mean, hell, yeah. Shit, Cheyenne. I’ll do it.”

  “Great.” Cheyenne grimaced and started to turn away. “Got that taken care of. Now I can—”

  Her knees buckled, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she dropped.

  Ember took the split-second distraction as her final opportunity and yanked the purple thorn from her friend’s hip. Blood sprayed in a wide arc across the black stone floor of the courtyard, then Cheyenne crumpled to the ground and didn’t move.

  “Gotcha.” The fae girl looked at Ba’rael’s last magically poisoned dart and tossed it behind her shoulder. When she looked back, she found every magical in the Heart staring at her. “Hey, she was already going down. I pulled this thing out after her eyes rolled back.”

  Maleshi glanced at Cheyenne’s unconscious form on the ground and raised her eyebrows, then turned toward Persh’al. “By order of the Black Flame, brothers. Ambar’ogúl’s new Crown!”

  The orc guards leaped to their feet and started banging on shields and chest plates all over again. The Four-Pointed Star rebels joined in, and Persh’al looked like he was about to bolt.

  “Hey.” Elarit grabbed his wrist, and he stared at her.

  “I have no idea what I’m—”

  She slapped him across the cheek, then pulled him roughly into an embrace for a wild, painful-looking kiss.

  The magicals in the courtyard roared in approval and pounded on whatever metal they had on hand.

  Ember floated backward away from them, her lips twitching as she decided whether to be concerned about that slap or just forget it and be happy for them. Corian finally lifted his gaze from Cheyenne, rubbed the back of his neck, and smirked at Persh’al. “A fell-damn troll on the throne. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

  Maleshi leaned toward him and muttered, “Never thought we’d live, period.”

  “Bullshit.” Shooting her a sidelong glance, Corian stepped through the ring of O’gúl guards encircling the courtyard and slapped a hand on the black stone wall. A burst of silver lightning crackled up the stone, and two seconds later, blazing lights in every color shimmered over the walls before the entire courtyard was illuminated by flashes of magical light. They raced all the way up the high walls and exploded into the sky, taking the magic built into the very foundation of Hangivol with them.

  The air above the capital of Ambar’ogúl crackled and sparked with magical energy, alerting everyone in the city and beyond that a new Cycle had turned. Even the O’gúleesh beyond the more civilized cities where the inner ring ended and the Outers began could feel the change, though most of them did not see the magical burst rise from the center of Hangivol. Ba’rael Verdys was finished, Cheyenne the Black Flame had abdicated her birthright, at least in Ambar’ogúl, and Persh’al Tenishi ruled as the world’s first troll Crown.

  Persh’al laughed when Elarit finally released him and stepped away, tossing her coiled scarlet braids away from her face. “Hey, General.”

  Maleshi turned slowly toward him and spread her arms. “Here we are, right?”

  “Apparently.” He jerked his chin at her and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “So, what’s my cool name, huh?”

  The general blinked quickly and forced back a laugh.

  Byrd barked out a laugh and slugged the new troll Crown in the shoulder. “Whatever it is, man, there’s no way you’re gettin’ anythin’ better than the Black Flame.”

  Lumil sniggered. “I kinda like the sound of Blue Freak.”

  Persh’al jerked his hand toward the goblins, twisting his fingers into the O’gúl equivalent of flipping the middle finger. Byrd and Lumil cracked up and fell all over each other, which inevitably turned into a shoving match five seconds later.

  Maleshi clasped her hands behind her back and nodded at the troll. “We’ll think of something.”

  Ember rose from where she’d hover-crouched beside Cheyenne’s body and clapped her hands once. “I know it’s crazy exciting, but can someone tell me where the hell I’m supposed to take the drow who made all this possible?”

  Nu’ek stepped forward, sending both the orc guards and the rebels scattering to get clear of her hulking form. “Plenty of empty rooms, fae. I’ll show you.”

  “That’d be great.” Ember watched as the huge Golra bent to scoop Cheyenne into her arms. “Whoa, hey. Just be careful, all right?”

  Nu’ek’s red eyes flashed at the fae girl. “Just because I could crush her in one fist, it doesn’t mean I will.”

  “Right.” Ember lifted both hands in front of her and floated backward. “I know that.”

  The Golra tossed her wild red curls away from her face, her leather vest creaking as she carried Cheyenne in both arms like a sleeping baby. “I like you, fae, but you should work on not being such a mouse. You’re still the Black Flame’s Nós Aní, are you not?”

  “Yeah. As far as I know.”

  Nu’ek grunted and stomped across the courtyard toward the curved arch on the opposite side. Her wings stretched wide across her back with a gust of air, then folded back into place again as she ducked and squeezed her massive form through the arch.

  Ember frowned and glided across the courtyard after her.

  Corian caught up with the fae girl and walked beside her. “What happened to her?”

  “What, you didn’t see the darts go through like bullets?”

  He shook his head. “Cheyenne doesn’t just pass out when something hurts a little.”

  “I don’t think it was a little, Corian. Honestly, it looked a lot like the blight.”

  “But not exactly.”

  “Nope. We get her in a bed or something like one, and I’ll have a chance to look her over without her threatening to break me over her knee if I poke her the wrong way.”

  The nightstalker snorted. “I have nothing but faith in your abilities, Ember.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “Make it as fast as you can, though, huh?”

  Ember shot him a sidelong glance as they approached the archway and stepped into the darkened hall. “You think I’m gonna just take my sweet time with it and keep her in pain for fun?”

  He ignored the sarcasm and nodded at the tips of Nu’ek’s wings disappearing around the corner. “She’s not the O’gúl Crown anymore, not technically, but she still has responsibilities to both worlds. Mostly Earth at this point.”

  “Like what, exactly?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  Ember gave him a pointed smile. “
She tells me everything, nightstalker. I just wanna hear it from you.”

  Corian studied her profile for a moment, then clasped his hands behind his back and waited for her to turn down the next corridor after Nu’ek. “It was either ruling from the Heart here, or taking her place as Earthside royalty. Guess she chose to rule on Earth.”

  “Huh.” Ember cocked her head. “Not sure why you’re telling me, though. I just follow her back and forth across the Border.”

  The nightstalker pressed his lips together and stared straight ahead. “Very funny. You two really are the perfect team.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Chapter Two

  Lying on the king-sized bed in her estate in Henry County, Bianca Summerlin lurched out of her three-day magical coma and gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she stared in shock at the opposite wall and the closed French doors of her bedroom.

  “Oh!” Eleanor hopped away from the ice water when the glass slipped from her hand and fell on the Persian rug. The glass didn’t break, but it rolled and left a trail of cold water seeping into the fibers. “Bianca?”

  For the first time since taking up employment at the Summerlin estate, Eleanor ignored the spill and rushed toward Bianca’s bedside instead.

  “Can you hear me? Oh, my God, I can’t believe it. Bianca?” She waved a hand in front of her employer and friend’s face, timidly bending forward to search for any expression. “If you can hear me, blink twice and…oh!”

  She jumped again when Bianca stiffly turned her head to meet the other woman’s gaze. “I’m not a performing circus animal, Eleanor.”

  “Well, it took you long enough to answer me.” The housekeeper pressed the back of her hand against Bianca’s forehead, then grabbed the woman’s face and turned her head from side to side.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Bianca asked, then took a deep breath through her nose.

  “That’s a good point. I wouldn’t know.”

  “Then please unhand my face.”

  Eleanor jerked her hands away and stepped back. “Sorry. I’m sorry. How do you feel?”

  “Smothered, to be perfectly honest.”

  “Oh.” The housekeeper took another step back. “Any side effects?”

  “Eleanor, I have no idea what I’ve just woken from or to. I do, however, intend to find out.” Bianca shifted closer to the edge of the bed and paused. Her head tilted slightly, and she frowned as she reached up to scratch an itch on her collarbone. “When was the last time the sheets were changed?”

  “Nothing wrong with the sheets.” Eleanor stepped forward again and reached toward her employer. “But I wouldn’t start scratching.”

  Bianca sucked in a sharp breath when the pain beneath the itch she’d meant to scratch flared along her collarbone and her chest. “What in the world?”

  She carefully peeled down the collar of her silk pajama shirt and stared at the raw red mark burned into her flesh. The edge of another peeked out at her from beneath the fabric, and she slowly undid the first four buttons to see an entire swath of healing burns on her chest and shoulders. A quick test of her forearms confirmed those hadn’t been spared, either.

  “Eleanor!”

  “You know, I’d like to say I can explain, but I’m not sure that’s true.”

  “Do your best, please.” Without looking at her housekeeper, Bianca rebuttoned her blouse and sat stiffly on the mattress, staring straight ahead at the French doors. “Starting with how I went from standing in my own backyard at the end of a particularly trying day to lying in my bed in nightclothes.”

  “Oh. Well, to start, I can tell you I’m the only one who touched your clothes. Took me a minute to get you changed, but I wanted to make you comfortable.” Eleanor bit her lip to stifle the onset of tears.

  “Thank you.” Bianca turned to meet the other woman’s gaze and nodded. “Take a seat and try to be as detailed as possible. Concise.”

  “Right.” Glancing around the room, the housekeeper returned to the armchair she’d occupied for the last few days at Bianca’s beside and sat tensely. “Well, those men were here. The ones in black who were supposed to keep an eye on those rocks.”

  “Yes, I remember that part. Let’s move on.”

  “The obstacle in the yard did something to you.”

  Bianca dipped her head and blinked. “Go on.”

  “You were frozen, Bianca. Unresponsive, and no one could get you to move. Not even Cheyenne.”

  After a brief pause, Bianca frowned. “I find it difficult to believe that Cheyenne would have an issue moving anything, let alone me.”

  Eleanor scoffed. “Well, it’s not because you’re too heavy, I can tell you that much.” Her employer’s deepening frown wiped the smile off her lips. “It was something unnatural if you get my drift.”

  “Yes, Eleanor. I understand the type of unnatural phenomenon we’ve unfortunately been dealing with on the property lately.” Bianca’s nostrils flared, which was the only visible sign of her distaste for anything that had to do with that other world. Her daughter’s other world. Her hand lifted on its own toward a burning itch on the opposite shoulder, but she stopped herself with a small, resigned grimace. “So if it was impossible to move me—”

  “Something happened. I don’t entirely understand it.” Eleanor wrung her hands in her lap. “That structure was destroyed. Or it destroyed itself. Then you fainted.”

  “I did no such thing.” Bianca barely shook her head, a warning and a plea for her friend to drop the matter and leave it at that.

  “Well, Cheyenne was here when it happened. She brought you to your bed, and that was the end of it.”

  Bianca slowly licked her lips and spread her arms, gesturing at the raw symbols that could be seen above the collar of her nightshirt. “And these?”

  “That happened while you were asleep. I have no idea what they are or why they’re there.”

  Taking a deep breath, Bianca fastened the top button on her shirt, closing it around her unusual new scars as much as it would go, and nodded. “If there’s anything else you remember that might be of importance, Eleanor, I’m sure you understand how strongly I wish to hear it.”

  “Well,” the housekeeper said as she shrugged and smoothed the tops of her pant legs, “if I could wrap my head around any more of it—”

  Bianca stood abruptly. “That’s fine.”

  “W-what are you doing?” Eleanor leaped to her feet and raced toward her employer. “Bianca, you can’t—”

  “I’m standing. And yes, I can.”

  “But you need rest.”

  “How long was I in bed?”

  Eleanor paused. “Three days.”

  Bianca's eyebrows twitched up, then settled in their normal place again. “Then it seems I’ve had plenty of rest. Thank you.”

  She headed toward the French doors on slightly shaky legs but willed her body to obey.

  “But we don’t know what that thing did to you.” The housekeeper bustled after her. “You could have permanent damage.”

  “Yes. Permanent damage in the form of scars.” Bianca pulled the French doors toward her and threw them aside. “That is hardly a reason to sequester me in my bedroom now that I’m awake.”

  Eleanor asked, “Where are you going?”

  “You said it was destroyed, Eleanor. I want to see that insufferable eyesore for myself.” Bianca moved swiftly down the hall toward the wide staircase. “Are those surly men in black uniforms still on the lawn?”

  “No. No, everyone left when the stones fell down.”

  “That will be all, Eleanor. You know how much I appreciate your dedication, and in this instance, your devotion to caring for me while I was indisposed.” Bianca almost dropped on the staircase as she descended the first step, but she steadied herself on the cherrywood railing and regained her balance enough to head down to the main floor.

  “Of course.” The housekeeper followed her with a worried frown. “That hasn’t disappeared now that you’re aw
ake.”

  “I relieve you of the burden.” Bianca didn’t turn around or pause on the stairs. Her gaze was focused intently on the glistening hardwood floor in the foyer at the foot of the stairs. “And do stop hovering.”

  Eleanor was halfway to catching up with the other woman but paused and muttered, “I’m not hovering.”

  Bianca ignored her in lieu of concentrating on the bottom of the staircase. Refusing to let anything stop her, she paused on the landing, smoothed a few stray hairs away from her face, and turned to head for the back of the house.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Trying not to run down the stairs, the housekeeper picked up the pace as much as she could. “Bianca? Bianca, listen to me. I really don’t think going out there right now is the best choice. As I said, I don’t know nearly enough about what happened to feel safe about it. Why would you go right back out to the thing that did this to you?”

  She rounded the staircase and caught the last of Bianca’s fluttering jade silk pant leg disappearing beneath the staircase and past the dining table.

  “Of course, I’m not going to lock you up in your room, but at the very least, please come back upstairs. I’ll make us a light lunch. How does that sound? We’ll take it in the breakfast room, and you can stare at the remains of that ghastly pile of rock all you want. I promised I’d look after you, Bianca, and that includes when stuff like this happens and I have no idea what it is.”

  Eleanor stopped on the other side of the dining table and stared at her employer.

  Bianca stood at the open French doors that led to the veranda, her back rigidly straight and one hand tightly gripping the door handle.

  Eleanor took two more tentative steps forward and peered around her employer’s stiff figure to see their most unexpected visitor standing at the balcony railing in Bianca’s favorite spot. “Oh my.”

  Bianca swallowed her rage at the sight of him in his true form and held her ground. I’m not going anywhere, and he knows it.

  L’zar turned around to face her and leaned against the railing. His golden eyes looked her up and down, and that cocksure smile returned to his inhumanly gray lips. “I always knew you were unstoppable.”