The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  L’zar turned slowly toward her and cocked his head. “I just want to talk to him, Cheyenne. I want to see this nephew of mine with my own eyes. A conversation won’t hurt anyone.”

  “If he’s sitting down to talk to you, L’zar, yeah, it might.”

  He chuckled and waved her off before turning back to the chief. “Will you take us to him?”

  “L’zar, I’m serious,” Cheyenne spat.

  “Hush.”

  “Don’t,” she began, then Maleshi’s hand clenched painfully around her wrist. The nightstalker woman nodded at Cheyenne’s chair. The halfling seethed with contained anger, but she forced herself back into her seat.

  Cazerel’s tight smile widened. “If a new Cycle is to turn, I would say it’s our duty to take you.”

  “Yes. We all have our own duties to perform, don’t we?”

  The chief stood, his chair scooting noisily across the floor. “Tomorrow, we will fulfill it.”

  The raug elders stood, quickly followed by L’zar and the rest of his party. “Thank you.” He thumped a fist against his chest and nodded. “I look forward to it.”

  “I’m sure you do. You’re welcome to stay in our city tonight.” Cazerel walked swiftly around the table and stopped beside Ember. “If you think of anything else you need from us, Healer, my clansmen will provide it for you.”

  Ember stared up at him from her seat in the crawler. “Thanks.”

  He grinned at her, nodded brusquely, then pulled open the door and left, followed by the three raug elders, who didn’t say a word.

  When the door closed behind them, Cheyenne leaped to her feet. “You can’t use this kid against his mother.”

  The drow brushed invisible dust off his shirtsleeve and rolled his shoulders. “I wouldn’t keep calling him a kid, Cheyenne. He’s much older than you.”

  “That doesn’t matter. In a world where everybody lives practically forever, he’s still a kid, and this is crossing a line.”

  “There is no line.” L’zar stalked around the table. “If there were, I’d say you’re crossing it right now. Don’t speak against me like that again.”

  “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t an order.” L’zar’s smile faded as he pointed at her. “That was a warning. We do what we have to do, so my sister doesn’t rip this world apart from the inside out. I’m not going to hurt him. He’s family. Nothing better than family, isn’t that right?”

  Cheyenne scowled at him. “So far, my O’gúleesh family has been pretty disappointing.”

  “Aw.” He cocked his head and winked. “We’ll grow on you.”

  Without waiting for anyone else to share their opinion, the drow thief strolled past her and slipped into the hall. He was gone before the wooden door stopped swinging toward the wall.

  Cheyenne looked at Corian. “He can’t do this.”

  “I know. And so far, he hasn’t,” The nightstalker said, “It’s the only option we have right now. He’s right, though. Talking won’t hurt the kid.”

  “It will if he’s lived four hundred years, not knowing anything about this world.”

  “Can you honestly say living hidden and in ignorance is the better path, even when the truth is hard to swallow?”

  She clenched her fists. “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s close enough, Cheyenne. Maybe you’ll feel differently about it when you wake up in the morning.”

  Ember stuck a finger in the air. “Hey, does anyone remember we’re on a time limit here?” The other magicals stared at her. “I mean, Cheyenne and I have a life to get back to Earthside. You know, after the weekend’s over. Maleshi too, probably.”

  Maleshi gave the fae girl a sympathetic smile. “Time doesn’t run quite the same way over here.”

  “No, but we have to go back, right?” Ember looked at the nightstalkers on either side of the table. “I mean, we are going back.”

  “Try not to worry about that right now, huh? We have slightly more important things to think about before we make another crossing. We’ll make this as quick of a trip as we can.” Maleshi exchanged glances with Corian, then the nightstalkers headed toward the door.

  Corian paused when he passed Cheyenne, leaned toward her as if he wanted to say something, then nodded with a weak smile and stepped out of the room.

  Lumil clapped her hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “All right. Time to see what kinda luxury suites these raugs are hiding behind all this dead stone, huh?”

  Byrd chuckled. “I heard they’re pretty good cooks.”

  “Not if we’re talking about Foltr.”

  “I didn’t say Foltr. Just raugs in general.” The goblin man pumped a fist in excitement. “I bet they know how to party, too.”

  Cheyenne stared at them. “You were just fighting them outside the gates.”

  “Yeah, that was fun, huh? Come on.” Laughing, Lumil waved her toward the door before she and Byrd disappeared down the hall.

  Cheyenne looked down at Ember. “We’re running all over the place trying to fill in this hole, and it keeps getting deeper.”

  “Corian’s right. Nothing’s happened yet.” Ember swiped the control panel on the crawler, the edge bumping against the table as the legs lifted in response. “Honestly, the only thing on my mind right now is finding something to eat in this place. I don’t know if it’s the long day or dumping all my magic into a raug chief, but I’m starving.”

  Cheyenne snorted. “One step at a time, huh?”

  “Exactly.” Ember slapped the side of the crawler, producing a metallic echo. “Or eight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The raugs had given Cheyenne and Ember adjoining guest quarters that shared a central room and a small terrace overlooking the center of Hirúl Breach. Cool air spilled through the open stone wall connecting the terrace to the main room, bringing with it the scent of strange cooking spices, sweat, and ground stone.

  Just as Cheyenne set Ember down on one of the giant cushioned lounges in the shared room, there was a knock on the door. “Yeah?”

  The door creaked open, and a comparatively skinny raug with tattoos on his face bowed slightly. “The Zokrí sends a meal with his gratitude.”

  Ember grinned. “Food.”

  “I wouldn’t get too excited until we see what it is,” Cheyenne muttered out of the side of her mouth.

  The raug flicked his clawed fingers into the room, and a metal table walked through the doorway on four mechanical legs, carrying a massive lidded tray, a pitcher of water, and two cups.

  “Okay.” Cheyenne hesitantly approached the table and handed the cups and pitcher to Ember before grabbing the tray. “Thanks.”

  The raug nodded. “Anything else, Healer?”

  “Oh. No, thanks. I think we’re all good here.”

  With a final glance at Cheyenne, the raug recalled the table machine and waited for it to walk out ahead of him before he closed the door again.

  Cheyenne sat on the low lounge stacked with pillows in front of the low table. “It’s like they threw out the idea of wheels altogether.”

  Ember snorted and poured them each a glass of water before setting everything on the table beside the tray. “Why use wheels when everything you need gets up and walks on its own?”

  “Not completely on its own.” Cheyenne tapped the back of her ear, where her activator was placed. “It’s a little weird.”

  “This whole place is weird. I like it.” Ember leaned forward to remove the lid from the tray and paused. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

  The dish was piled high with a steaming mix of what looked like rice and noodles with various colorful chunks layered throughout. Cheyenne leaned closer. “Huh. Smells like—”

  “Chili dogs.” Ember set the tray down and wrinkled her nose. “The kind you slop out of a can.”

  “Not the whole thing.”

  The fae playfully rolled her eyes and studied their meal. “Obviously just the chili, but this sme
lls like the whole thing. Why are there chunks of glowing blue in there?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s, uh…you know, I can’t remember the name because it’s weird, but my troll-neighbor friends cooked it for me one time. Some kind of plant, I think. It moves. Sometimes.”

  “Okay, so nothing with eyes, but the plants still move after they’re cooked. Excellent.” Ember shook her head. “I don’t even care. I’m starving.”

  “Dig in, then.”

  The fae burst out laughing. “They didn’t bring any silverware.”

  Cheyenne grinned. “Can you imagine raugs cutting into something like this with a dainty silver utensil in each hand?”

  “No, but I can vividly picture them cramming handfuls into their mouths.” Wrinkling her nose, Ember reached toward the steaming mound of raug delicacy. “We’re going to eat this with our hands, aren’t we?”

  “I mean, you could always opt for the magical energy bar in your lunchbox.”

  Ember snorted. “I heard those were better to save for emergencies.”

  “Okay, then.” Cheyenne plunged her fingers into the top of the pile. Thick, drooping noodles plopped back onto the tray when she tried to lift the whole thing to her mouth.

  “Oh, jeez. Come on, I knew you had weird eating habits, but this is going a little too far.”

  The halfling chewed, nodding slowly, then swallowed and grabbed a cup to wash it down. “Okay. After a chaser, it’s not that bad.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I’m staying away from that blue stuff, though.”

  Outside below the small terrace, raugs shouted at each other and knocked something over as the closest onlookers laughed and cheered on the fight.

  Ember looked through the open wall toward the terrace. “These guys like their fights, don’t they?”

  “I hadn’t seen raugs fighting before today.” The halfling sucked leftover pieces of whatever it was off her fingers. “I mean, besides Gúrdu that one time. Those warriors outside the gates? They were pretty brutal and way too fast for something their size.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, moving at superspeed isn’t exactly an advantage.” Cheyenne snorted and scooped up another bite. “Maleshi got punched out of hers.”

  “No way.”

  “They were all egging each other on. Hopefully, they got it out of their systems.”

  Ember laughed. “Listen to you, being all diplomatic and frowning at the brawlers in the streets.”

  “I mean, I ended up fighting them too, but you’d be proud of me, Em. I tried to break it up with words first.”

  “You’re learning.”

  “I’m trying not to be that pissed-off drow who gets stupid when something goes wrong. L’zar doesn’t lose it the way I do, at least most of the time, but spending so much time with him definitely makes me realize how much I don’t want to be like him in a lot of ways.”

  “Was he fighting too?”

  Cheyenne almost sprayed her next sip of water all over the table but managed to swallow it and laughed. “Are you kidding? He sat there and watched the whole thing like it was his own private show. Could’ve pulled out a bowl of popcorn, and it wouldn’t have been weird.”

  “There’s one thing you don’t have to actively avoid not to be like him.” Ember slurped a long, dangling noodle into her mouth, spraying sticky sauce all over her chin. She snorted, looked around for a nonexistent napkin, and used the back of her hand instead. “You’ve never been the kind of person who sees someone needing help and stands there watching.”

  “Not after the first time, anyway.” Cheyenne buried her face in her cup for a long drink. My friends get shot when I don’t step up and do something.

  “L’zar could use some pointers from you that way.”

  “Right. Like he’d listen to them.” The halfling shook her head. “I lost it on him when the capital exploded. He wanted to run away. That’s all he ever does. And then he tried to stop me from helping a whole bunch of other magicals who would’ve been flattened by a falling building if I hadn’t stepped in. I mean, I’m not saying I always make the best decisions, but at least I’m trying to be better about it.”

  “And you think L’zar’s too stuck in his ways to even bother trying, huh?”

  Cheyenne looked up from the tray and frowned. “He is.”

  Ember pressed her lips together and looked back down at the tray. “Maybe you’re paying too much attention to what you don’t like about him.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t try to tell me L’zar’s a good guy with a big heart who had a rough time growing up, and all he needs is a little love.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  Something heavy and metal clattered to the floor outside below the terrace, followed by cheers and snarls of encouragement.

  “Okay.” Ember leaned away from hovering over their weird dinner. “You guys had a little heart-to-heart after you got thrown out of that cave, right?”

  “Just casually, huh? The Sorren Gán threw out the drow trash.” Cheyenne laughed.

  “Hey, that’s an excellent description.” Ember looked around unconsciously for a napkin again, couldn’t find one, and settled for sucking the sauce off her fingers. “But I’m serious. A few weeks ago, you would’ve fought every single one of us to avoid sitting down with him like that. It looked like a pretty intense conversation, and no one left it bleeding or looking pissed.”

  “Yeah. I guess it was.” Pretty sure that’s something L’zar wants to stay a secret. I can’t believe I’m gonna keep it for him.

  “While you two huddled on the other side of that clearing, Corian had a lot to say about L’zar’s sudden decision to start making better choices.”

  Cheyenne cocked her head. “Corian doesn’t ever have a lot to say.”

  “It felt like a lot for him, okay?” Ember leaned back against the lounge. “He said he’d never seen L’zar show so much restraint toward another magical coming at him like you did.”

  “He was trying to protect himself, Em. Not by fighting me back, by trying to convince me I was wrong and he was right the whole time.” Cheyenne shrugged. “Which might technically be true, but that goes back to the whole ‘don’t lie to Cheyenne if you want her help’ issue. Which hasn’t stopped.”

  “He explained everything to you, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you didn’t ask for it.”

  With a wry chuckle, Cheyenne folded her arms and stared at her friend. “You’re diving deep into this, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, I’m not trying to convince you L’zar’s a great guy. I’m not sure anyone believes that one hundred percent. I’m just saying he’s changing. All the magicals who’ve known him forever can see it.”

  “They told you that explicitly, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Ember raised an eyebrow. “They were pretty worried about the whole thing.”

  “They shouldn’t have been. I was pissed, but even if Corian and Maleshi hadn’t gotten in the way, I would’ve run out of steam eventually. That tends to happen.”

  “Cheyenne, they weren’t holding you back to protect L’zar.”

  The halfling wrinkled her nose. “What?”

  “They were protecting you. Which apparently didn’t need to happen because L’zar’s been working on not killing the wrong people when he gets angry. You know, like his daughter.”

  “Huh.” Cheyenne blinked at the pile of food on the table and shrugged. “I could still take him.”

  “Oh, my God.” Ember laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re not even willing to say it’s possible that he’s trying to be better?”

  “I don’t know, Em. Not something I wanna think about right now. The guy basically killed himself for power no one else had, and I don’t know what that says about how much he can change.”

  “What?”

  Crap. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I can’t let my guard down around him, not
all the way. I mean, however many thousands of years he’s been alive, he’s been Ambar’ogúl’s trickster thief the whole time. Why would he stop that now?”

  “Hmm. I hear people do weird things when they have kids.”

  Cheyenne snorted, then a cheer rose from outside, followed by a growling chant of, “Cu’ón! Cu’ón!”

  “What the hell?” Cheyenne stood and quickly went out to the terrace. Below, a crowd of raugs had gathered around a cleared circle in the square. L’zar squatted on one side of the ring they’d formed, grinning at a huge raug sitting cross-legged on the other side. The raug cast some sort of spell, and L’zar copied the gestures almost exactly. Bright light strobed from their hands, and Cheyenne blinked against the glare before heading back into the room.

  “Okay, you can’t stand there watching without telling me what’s going on down there. Immobile fae girl, remember?”

  “He’s down there competing in some kind of spell-off with a raug. I have no idea what they’re doing.”

  “Oh.” Ember perked up. “That sounds cool.”

  “If your magical battery recharges before we leave, I’m sure you’ll have a chance to try it out for yourself.” Cheyenne plopped back down onto the lounge, then turned and kicked up both feet to stretch them out in front of her. “I’m totally fine with sitting here and doing nothing for a while. Things feel okay right now, you know? I mean, if we ignore the whole part about this entire world falling apart under the Crown’s shitty ruling habits.”

  “Ha. Delicately phrased.”

  Cheyenne widened her eyes and shrugged. “You know me, Em. Super-eloquent halfling.”

  “I know what you mean, though. Not always running around trying to fight off the next thing coming for you. I mean, I don’t know what it’s been like for you, but I can imagine.”

  “It is what it is. It’s kinda nice to sit back and know that at least right now, nothing’s coming after me, and no one’s gonna open a portal into our apartment and tell us to get ready for something right now.”

  Ember glanced around and grimaced. “I’d knock on wood right now if there was any.”