The Drow Hath Sent Thee

by Martha Carr

  Cheyenne sighed. “I mean, if we forget that Bianca’s in Ambar’ogúl and I just got blindsided by visions from a tree reminding me to keep my promise to it, sure, Em. I’m good.”

  “And you’re going to lie down? You were out for, like, half a day in the courtyard.”

  “Just because I’ve been unconscious for an entire day in the last three, it doesn’t mean I’ve gotten any sleep.”

  “Huh.”

  Quick footsteps echoed toward them, and Maleshi rounded the corner. She slowed when she saw Cheyenne, her silver eyes narrowed. “Finally snapped out of it, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

  The general approached them and folded her arms, glancing at the drow and her fae Nós Aní. “Judging by the mix of every emotion I’d expect to see on both your faces, I’m guessing you just paid the necromancer a visit.”

  “Yeah.” Cheyenne blew a heavy breath. “He didn’t do anything to her?”

  “Not as far as I know. Why? Does she not seem herself?”

  “No, she does. That’s what’s weird.” Cheyenne looked over her shoulder and frowned at the huge doors into Venga’s lab. “I’m going to the apartment, which is still weird to say. Keep an eye on her for me, yeah? Don’t let him do anything without me.”

  “Deal.” Maleshi nodded, then eyed the drow again. “Still feeling better?”

  “The blight wounds, yeah. I’ll have to get back to you on the rest.”

  “Go get some sleep, kid. Corian and I are taking shifts checking on Bianca. We’ll find you when it’s time.”

  “Thanks.” Cheyenne couldn’t look the general in the eye any longer and brushed past her to continue down the hall.

  Ember and Maleshi exchanged knowing glances but didn’t comment on what they were both thinking. Whatever Cheyenne was going through, she hadn’t bothered telling anyone the full extent of it. Hopefully, she would.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Cheyenne and Ember exited the Crown’s fortress at an unmarked place in the wall with a wave of Cheyenne’s hand. Ember stayed close behind her friend, looking over her shoulder to shoot the fortress’ outer wall a surprised glance as the segments unfolded and replaced the makeshift doorway behind her.

  Hangivol’s drow inner circle was quiet and empty-feeling, only a handful of drow passing across the main avenue taking care of whatever business kept them on this level of the city. Cheyenne didn’t say a word on the way to their apartment building or during the trip up the floating circular platform to their floor.

  Ember didn’t push her. She had serious shit to sort out before she was ready to talk about it. The fae could wait.

  The door to the apartment next to theirs flashed in a pattern of different-colored lights spilling across the floor when they passed. Low chanting by at least three different voices carried through the hall, but Cheyenne didn’t stop to listen in on whatever drow ritual was taking place on the other side.

  The apartment door slid into the wall the second she approached it, moving seamlessly so she didn’t even have to slow down before stepping into the sparsely decorated space made of harsh lines and little comfort. The door slid shut again behind Ember, and Cheyenne stopped halfway to the room she’d claimed on the right.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Cheyenne gave a half-hearted shrug and approached the bare, seemingly empty wall that served as their kitchen. “I should probably eat something.”

  “Hey, if you’re hungry, I’ll make something.”

  “I’m not.” Cheyenne frowned and stared blankly at the wall. “But I should be, right?”

  Ember chewed the inside of her cheek. She’s got L’zar-style space-out written all over her. Not a good sign.

  “I mean, food’s important, whether or not you feel like it.” The fae approached her friend and put a gentle hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder.

  The halfling twitched and pulled slightly away from Ember’s touch. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. How about you go sit down on the couch that might as well be a concrete slab, and I’ll pull something out of the wall.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Cheyenne turned slowly and practically staggered across the mostly empty space before lowering herself gingerly onto the boxy black couch. She propped her feet up on the equally boxy ottoman, her hands falling limp beside her on the alleged cushion, and closed her eyes.

  Ember selected something from the kitchen wall’s coded menu that looked and smelled safe, as close to baked chicken as they were likely to get, and her less-advanced activator had what it took to help her program the kitchen to heat up their meal. While she waited, she scanned the menu and found a bottle of Bloodshine listed beneath the fellwine and something the activator translated as uruni milk. She narrowed her eyes at the wall and shrugged. What the hell.

  Her fingers swiped the coded lines, and a refrigerated drawer slid out of the wall to present an unopened bottle of Bloodshine and two copper cups. By the time she brought them to the couch, Cheyenne looked like she’d already fallen asleep.

  “I can hear you watching me,” Cheyenne muttered. “Or feel it. One or the other.”

  Ember snorted. “You know how creepy that is, right?”

  “Why do you think I told you?” The drow opened one golden eye to study her Nós Aní, then smiled and pushed herself up straighter on the couch. “At least you brought booze.”

  “There is that.” A soft, chiming alarm came from the kitchen wall. “And the food is ready.”

  Cheyenne poured their drinks while Ember lifted the tray of chicken-smelling something out of the wall. A wave of the drow’s hand brought a thick black coffee table up out of the floor, and they ate.

  The apartment remained unusually quiet until Ember finally had to say something about it. “So, what’s really going on? And yes, I do mean besides the obvious.”

  Cheyenne peeled away a strip of meat with a slight orange tinge and popped it into her mouth on autopilot. “Lack of sleep. Bianca getting super cozy with Venga.”

  “Yeah, that was weird.” Ember raised the cup of bubbling golden liquid to her lips and washed down the O’gúleesh “chicken.” The instant buzz of the Bloodshine racing to her head and bubbling in her nose made her set the cup aside. “None of this fazes her even a little. It’s like she’s been around magicals her entire life.”

  “Well, she’s spent the last twenty-one years with one.” Cheyenne shook her head. “I expected her to freak out, or at least look scared. Unsure. I think maybe she snapped.”

  “Like, mentally?”

  The drow stared at her friend and raised an eyebrow. “Kinda the only way at this point. Only she hasn’t.”

  “I mean, it supports the whole ‘Bianca as the vessel’ thing, right?”

  “Maybe.” Cheyenne sat back on the couch. “And that stupid tree.”

  Ember scooped up another bite with her fingers and ate slowly. “Yeah, you haven’t gone into detail about that.”

  “I know. When Persh’al swore in, I talked to it, I guess. Promised I’d heal the dead Nimlothar forest that isn’t dead, only I have absolutely no idea how to do that. And today when Bianca and I were in the Heart—”

  Ember quietly sucked the spiced sauce off her fingers. “Visions, right?”

  “The thing pulled me out of my body, Em. I was just floating there. I could see myself lying on the ground, and the tree told me I had to keep my promise basically right then. That the vessel’s here, so now my mom and I have to heal everything. Including the forest. What the hell am I supposed to do with that information?”

  “Use it, I guess.” Ember shrugged. “You know, just be who you are, and let Bianca be who she is.”

  “I guess.” Cheyenne lifted the cup of Bloodshine to her nose and gave it a curious sniff. She only drank a little of it, then set it down on the table again and shook her head. “My head keeps spinning in circles about the whole thing. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but then I keep thinking about all the crap the Sorren
Gán said about what I still have left to do with the vessel. That I’m only one part of the whole. I guess I kept assuming I was the only one who could do any of this, you know? Getting rid of Ba’rael and healing the blight and turning this whole world inside out so nobody fucks it up like this again. But it hasn’t only been on me.”

  “Right. Neros magicked his mom right out of here. Persh’al’s the Crown. And Bianca’s the vessel.”

  “So why does everything center around me, then? Huh?” Cheyenne ran a hand through her hair. “If it doesn’t fall only to me to get all this done, I don’t see why I have to be at the head of it.”

  “Hmm.” Ember took another sip of Bloodshine, thought she was about to sneeze, then shook her head. “Well, look at what happened when everyone else tried to do it on their own. L’zar had who knows how many kids who didn’t make it. Ba’rael screwed over an entire world and almost brought the same thing to Earth, and your mom raised you all on her own and tried to keep you safe by doing what she thought was right.”

  “Yeah, and it didn’t exactly turn out the way she wanted.”

  “That’s my point.” Ember leaned forward and stared at her friend until Cheyenne finally looked at her. “Shit doesn’t work out the way we think it’s supposed to when we try to keep everyone else out of it and do it all on our own. I don’t think you’re an exception to that.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  Ember laughed. “No, I mean, I think the point is something different from what everyone thought it was. Sure, you’re the Crown under the surface. The Black Flame, right? Persh’al wouldn’t be able to do anything he’s doing if you hadn’t turned the new Cycle. But you’re not the be-all-end-all here, just the catalyst.”

  “There. Right there.” Cheyenne pointed at her friend. “That’s it. Feels like everything I touch these days bursts into flame, and I can’t figure out how to put out the damn fire.”

  “You could think about it a little differently.” With a small smile, Ember shrugged. “L’zar said it when we walked out of the Heart after you put your coin on that altar, right?”

  The drow rolled her eyes. “L’zar says a lot of shit that isn’t worth paying attention to.”

  “He said you’re the bridge between worlds.”

  Cheyenne frowned and slowly met her friend’s gaze again.

  “Think about it. A bridge might be the only thing connecting two sides. It holds itself up, and it makes it safe for whoever to cross back and forth, right?”

  “You’re saying I should let everyone walk all over me to get wherever they need to go?”

  “Now you’re being an ass about it.” They both laughed, and Ember shook her head. “No, I’m saying a bridge’s purpose is to help everyone else get where they need to be. If it’s not supported the right way, shit hits the fan. Without it, trying to get across is a hell of a lot more dangerous. Maybe even impossible.”

  Cheyenne frowned at the metal plate holding their pseudo-chicken dinner and cocked her head. How can she make this much sense when everything’s falling apart? “I get it, Em.”

  “You don’t look convinced.”

  “I think this bridge needs some real sleep.” The drow pushed to her feet and tried to give her friend a reassuring smile. “If any messages come through that stupid box by the door, wake me up. Even if you have to slap me, okay?” Cheyenne’s eyelids drooped. “Whatever it takes. I can’t be passed out whenever Venga decides it’s the right time to get a move on with his tests.”

  “Deal.”

  “Thanks, Em.”

  “Yeah. Oh, hey.” Ember pulled the vial of Inolu’s healing potion, still two-thirds full, and handed it over. “Maybe just take a little this time. At the very least, it’ll probably help you get to sleep.”

  “At the very least.” Cheyenne took the vial and nodded. “Gotta stay on top of the poison, right?”

  “Exactly.” The fae watched her best friend move slowly across the apartment to her bedroom. Even after the door slid back into place behind Cheyenne, Ember kept staring. She lifted the copper cup to her mouth again and took a bigger sip this time. Venga better hurry the hell up. I don’t know how much longer she’s gonna keep getting back up on her feet.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Cheyenne kicked off her black Vans and shrugged out of her trenchcoat before staggering to the raised platform of her bed in Hangivol. I’m so fucking tired of being tired.

  Once she’d crawled onto the surprisingly comfortable mattress, not bothering to turn back the sheets, she pulled the cork out of the vial and took a small sip. The healing potion worked almost as quickly as the last time, filling her body with a heavy warmth spreading into her fingers and toes and the tips of her pointed drow ears. She had just enough time to stopper the vial again before it dropped from her fingers, then she sank down onto the pillow and closed her eyes.

  Just a little sleep. That’s all I need right now. Then I can keep being the goddamn bridge that has to hold everybody else up.

  It felt like mere seconds later that she slipped into another dream. In this one, she rose out of her body as she had in the Heart’s central courtyard, only this time, when she got off the bed and stared at her own body curled up on the mattress, she wasn’t translucent and didn’t float away. Cheyenne felt her lightened weight stepping firmly down on the stairs below the platform bed and her fingers trailing across the edge of the platform before she turned to the bedroom door.

  Apparently, I’m lucid-dreaming. Kinda defeats the point of getting real sleep, right?

  Still, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something outside her bedroom, beyond the walls of her Hangivol apartment, that she had to see.

  “It’s good to see you, Cheyenne.”

  She whirled and found Neros standing at the foot of her bed. Her cousin’s washed-out drow skin and bone-white hair looked solid, and his pale blue eyes with their faint golden glow focused intently on her.

  “I’m totally dreaming, right?”

  Neros dipped his head. “You might say that.”

  “Because I need sleep.”

  “Your body is resting, cousin.” He stepped over to her and gestured at the bedroom door. “For now, your mind is free. Walk with me.”

  With a small, knowing smile, Neros passed her and disappeared through the solid door of her bedroom.

  Right. Walk with him. She snorted. I guess this is what’s happening right now.

  Cheyenne waved her hand at the bedroom door, but it didn’t move. “No magic in dreams, right?”

  She rolled her eyes and stepped through the closed door to find Neros waiting for her in the empty living room.

  He smiled and waved her forward. “Things are different in this realm, Cheyenne, but you are the same. I want to show you.”

  “Show me what?”

  His pale eyes widened above a knowing smile, and he stepped across the apartment before disappearing through the front door again.

  Even in my dreams, there are no straight answers. Awesome.

  Cheyenne passed through the front door after him without feeling even a hint of physical resistance, and she emerged on the other side, not in the hallway outside the apartment but on the wide avenue of the drow inner circle.

  The clean, light-colored streets of the highest city level cast an orange reflection beneath the sunset over the capital. Neros clasped his hands behind his back and stared up at the glowing sky, his white hair fluttering away from his face that was turned into the breeze. Cheyenne couldn’t feel the wind, but it was easy to imagine when she saw it playing through her cousin’s hair and ruffling his loose white tunic and trousers.

  “Any chance you will tell me what we’re doing here?”

  “You will see.” Neros turned to her and gestured down the main avenue. “But it’s not here.”

  “Okay, I get it. I’ll walk with you.” Cheyenne fell in step beside him, wanting to stick her hands in her pockets but finding her trenchcoat left behind in the dream.

&nbs
p; Nothing moved around them as they crossed the inner circle. The only sounds were a soft whistle of wind from far away and Neros’ footsteps padding softly across the ground. Cheyenne’s own steps didn’t make any noise, though she spent a moment studying the way her feet half-floated, half-pressed against the metal surface.

  “So, if you won’t tell me where you’re going,” she said, “can you at least tell me where you are right now?”

  Her cousin chuckled. “I’m with you.”

  “Well, yeah. In a dream. I mean for real. Where did you go after you and Ba’rael disappeared?”

  “Ah. Sometimes Nor’ieth. Sometimes elsewhere.” He turned to her with a reassuring smile. “One place is not so different from the other.”

  “But you’re still alive. Right?”

  Neros dipped his head.

  “Is she?”

  “In a sense, yes.”

  Cheyenne shook her head. “That’s not an answer.”

  “Ba’rael is in existence, Cheyenne. For now, she cannot return to stand in your way, if that’s what concerns you.”

  “I’m not concerned.”

  Neros raised his eyebrows slightly and turned to scan the edge of the city’s highest level as they approached. “Perhaps you should be.”

  “Because she might come back.”

  “Only if you do not succeed in time.” The warning was at odds with Neros’ playful smile. “Do not let your thoughts linger on the Spider, cousin. Focus on where you need to be.”

  “Yeah, I wish it was that simple.” Cheyenne gazed out at the rest of Hangivol stretching below them. “I don’t even know where that is.”

  Neros turned to stare at her and pointed straight ahead. The next second, they were standing not at the edge of the inner circle but far below the city’s surface. The orange sunset was gone. The sky and all the tall, glittering buildings were gone. And in their place was the dark stone wall at the end of the passageway Cheyenne instantly recognized. “You know this place.”