by Martha Carr
So, the raugs get up and fight for no reason when it’s barely even dawn, huh?
Cheyenne stepped groggily toward the open balcony but stopped when another crash came—from Ember’s room this time.
“Damnit!” The fae grunted in frustration. “Come on. Just get this stupid… No, no. Wait!”
Metal clinked against stone, and the crawler bashed into the doorway of Ember’s room before scuttling through and darting wildly across the living area toward Cheyenne. The temporary O’gúl wheelchair on eight legs wobbled when two of its pointed feet struck the large pillow scattered across the floor. It almost fell over but paused, as if the old-school tech was aware of the danger if it kept moving.
“This sucks,” Ember muttered from her room.
Trying not to laugh, Cheyenne headed for the crawler. “Want me to herd this thing back in there for you, Em?”
“Oh, shit. Did I wake you up?”
“Nope.” Cheyenne pulled the silver activator coil from her front pocket and slipped it behind her ear. The pinch of the O’gúl tech syncing with her magic and her brain had faded at this point to little more than a fleeting itch, though her eyelids fluttered from the buzz of tech-induced magic.
“Okay, then yeah. Bring the stupid thing back in here so the magicless fae can depend on a machine again to move around.” Ember groaned. “Please.”
The lines of code scrolling across the crawler’s flat, unlabeled control panel translated the O’gúleesh symbols to readable English in under two seconds. Cheyenne stopped in front of the crawler and quickly scanned the panel. They weren’t kidding about the old-school part. This thing isn’t half as complicated as any machine in Hangivol.
She swiped the control panel and directed the crawler off the pillows and back across the living area. The machine moved quickly and easily this time, avoiding the doorframe altogether before it slowed to a stop beside Ember’s huge bed, which was built for a raug’s dimensions, not a fae’s.
“Oh, sure.” Ember rolled her eyes. “The thing has no problem avoiding obstacles when the drow gives it commands.”
Cheyenne walked slowly into the room. “Looked like you were getting the hang of it yesterday.”
“Yeah, when I had you to pick me up and stick me in that thing. If I had my magic back, I wouldn’t need you or this stupid machine.”
The halfling stuck her hands in her pockets and raised an eyebrow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the O’gúl bed.
Ember stopped glaring at the glittering black machine long enough to flick her gaze at the half-drow. “Sorry. I think I’m still half-asleep.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Right on cue, another crash and round of boisterous laughter rose from the courtyard outside the balcony. Immediately after that came the thump and slap of flesh hitting flesh.
Cheyenne closed her eyes. “Whoever those idiots are out there, they’re gonna wake up the entire city with that crap.”
“Yeah.” Ember ran a pink-tinted hand through her violet-streaked brown hair and reached for the crawler, but drew her hands away again, thumped her thighs, and shot her friend an exasperated glance. “I think I made this thing freak out when I tried to climb in. Feel like lifting a fae into a machine this early in the morning?”
The halfling smiled. “If that’s what the fae needs, sure.”
Ember gave her friend a thin smile and reached out to wrap her arms around Cheyenne’s neck. The halfling scooped her up and set her in the depressed seat in the middle of the crawler’s main body. The fae grabbed each of her thighs in turn to shift them around more comfortably in her seat. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Cheyenne stepped away from her friend and stared at the mottled dark-gray splotches with barely visible black lines snaking across Ember’s forearm. “Shit, Em. Your arm.”
“What, this?” Ember lifted her forearm with wide eyes, then rubbed it with her other hand and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“That looks a hell of a lot like the blight on those skaxens.”
“I didn’t catch the blight from Cazerel if that’s what you’re wondering.” Ember’s head wobbled in indecision as she looked back down at her arm. “It’s like, you know how when you throw a rock into a pond, and the water keeps moving and rippling for a long time after the rock’s at the bottom?”
The halfling snorted and folded her arms. “That’s not a rock, Em. That’s a mutating magical plague eating this entire world and spilling across the Border. And you’re not a pond.”
“Cheyenne, you’re making way too big of a deal out of this.”
“So far, you’re the only person who can heal this thing in magicals, and now your magic has taken a back seat for however long.”
“Trust me, it was a lot worse than this last night. Kept me up for hours.”
“Seriously?” Cheyenne stepped toward the so-far-motionless crawler, frowning at the dark splotches on her friend’s pink skin. Ember didn’t even try to hide them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it got better.” Ember shrugged. “And there’s nothing you could’ve done about it, right? If I am the only one who can heal this crap.”
The room was silent after that. Ember might have had a chance at setting a record for a staring contest with the drow halfling, but a small cough escaped her and grew quickly into a full-blown fit.
“Jesus, Em.”
“I said I’m fine.” Ember lifted a hand to stop Cheyenne from coming any closer. “Seriously. I’m fairly sure last night was the worst of it.”
When the fae girl seemed to have her breathing back under control, Cheyenne nodded. “Okay. But I need you to promise me that if those black lines get worse again or show up in different places, you’ll tell me.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, I’m serious. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell didn’t expect you to have to heal a raug chief from the blight and lose your magic in the process. That wasn’t part of the plan when we came here.”
“I didn’t lose my magic.” Ember raised an eyebrow. “It’s not working the right way. No spells yet, and I’m still a half-assed noob with this activator.”
Cheyenne laughed wryly. “Right.”
“I still look like a full-blooded fae, so I know my magic isn’t gone.”
“Obviously. I’m saying we can’t screw around on this side.” Ember opened her mouth to argue and Cheyenne stepped back, raising both hands in concession. “Hey, I know. That probably makes me a hypocrite. I’ve ignored way more injuries than I probably should have at the time because I figured I’d be fine, but things are getting serious over here. And seriously weird. I learned my lesson about sitting back and letting things play out when it comes to you, Em. Not gonna do that again.”
Ember slowly folded her arms, and her chin dipped almost to her chest as she studied her gray-blotted forearms. Then she looked up at Cheyenne again without moving her head. “Even Foltr said this is temporary.”
“Still.” Cheyenne shrugged. “We have no idea how long ‘temporary’ will last, and I don’t like the odds.”
“You don’t even know what they are.”
“Exactly.” Cheyenne nodded curtly, trying not to look too freaked out, only the right amount. Last time I didn’t pay attention to the consequences, Ember got shot. Wasn’t that long ago, either. “I’m trying not to make the same mistakes, Em. Especially with you.”
“Yeah, I get it. Thanks.” Blinking quickly, Ember glanced down at the control panel on the crawler and lifted her hand to attempt another command, then paused. “You can play drow bodyguard, Cheyenne, but the last thing I want is—”
Someone roared in anger down in the courtyard as another heavy something caused what sounded like an entire stone wall to topple over. The magicals who’d been laughing and egging on the good-natured brawling outside now growled and snarled. Muted red light flashed in the main room of Cheyenne and Ember’s shared quarters and the doorway of Ember’s room.
The hal
fling rolled her eyes. “Sounds like somebody doesn’t know when to hold back.”
“That’s what woke me up.” Ember glared through the doorway. “Seriously, if they don’t cut it out, I won’t be the only pissed-off magical who didn’t wanna be up this early.”
“You aren’t.” Cheyenne spun and stormed across the main room toward the open balcony.
Something thudded against the wall of the building, making the floor beneath her tremble. Deep raug voices echoed around the courtyard, roaring with renewed excitement and the contagious battle rage they shared in Hirúl Breach.
“Show him, Barlek.”
“Smash his head in!”
“Blood and honor, brother!”
Cheyenne slammed both hands on the balcony rail and peered over the edge as the only voice she recognized came from below.
“You think you can handle this?” L’zar spread his arms and grinned, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as he swayed on the stone floor of the courtyard. “I’ve eaten radan hooves that fought back better than that. How long have you been hiding here, wondering who cut off your balls?”
“Jesus Christ,” Cheyenne muttered. “Why am I not surprised?”
Chapter Thirty
The raug L’zar had hurled against the wall of the building bellowed and charged the drow thief. L’zar staggered back but somehow wasn’t fast enough to avoid a massive hard gray head ramming into his chest. The drow flew across the courtyard and toppled into two other raugs who were cheering their clansman on as another half-dozen of the giant gray magicals snarled their approval.
One raug snatched the front of L’zar’s shirt in a meaty fist, red claws scraping the drow’s slate-gray flesh, and sneered in his face. “Not so big now, are you?”
Blinking heavy eyelids, L’zar tried to steady his wobbling head and meet the leering raug’s burning gaze. “Bigger than you where it counts, I imagine.”
The second raug he’d stumbled into swung a fist into the drow’s jaw. L’zar’s head whipped to the side, the rest of him held in place by the other raug’s fistful of his tunic, and dark blood splattered on the stone floor.
L’zar snickered. “You call that a hit?”
The raug holding him shoved the drow away and sent his fist crashing into the other side of L’zar’s face. The drow spun beneath the blow, then whirled back toward his attacker with wide, furiously glowing golden eyes.
“I wasn’t finished!”
“You will be.” Both raugs charged him at once, their pounding footsteps making the ground tremble beneath them as they kicked up bits of stone splattered with drow blood.
L’zar darted into drow speed and brought his fist up into the first raug’s gut of solid muscle. The gray-skinned magical staggered backward with a roar, and his clansman stepped toward the blur of gray and white and swept his muscular arm aside in a smashing arc. L’zar flew out of drow speed and gained his footing before the raug he’d slammed into the wall stepped up behind him and punched him in the lower back.
The other magicals gathered to watch the fight roared in approval and stomped their feet, pumping their fists in the air and snarling. Spit and blood and sweat flew everywhere as L’zar whirled under the simultaneous attacks of three raugs, none of whom looked likely to take mercy on the drow thief.
Even from where she stood at the balcony, Cheyenne could smell the fumes of Bloodshine and fellwine as if she’d downed a whole keg of it on her own. Of course, he’s drunk. He’s gonna get himself killed.
L’zar darted into drow speed again and clambered onto one raug’s back. The raug roared and pounded his fist against the drow’s forearm, which was squeezing his thickly muscled throat. Another raug cracked an elbow between L’zar’s shoulder blades, then grabbed the drow around the middle and swung him fiercely away from his kinsman before slamming him to the ground. The crack of L’zar’s skull hitting stone echoed through the courtyard.
Ember scuttled toward the balcony in the crawler, weaving as she swiped at the control panel and tried to get the machine to do what she wanted. “Did I hear L’zar screaming?”
Down below, the crouching drow spun in a streak of gray and black and white, hissing and baring his teeth. Then he leaped at the closest raug and pummeled the magical’s muscular torso with both fists. The others closed on him and took turns smashing their knuckles into L’zar Verdys’ face, back, ribs, and shoulders.
Cheyenne gritted her teeth. “That’s it.”
“What’s happening?” Ember stabbed a finger on the control panel and made the crawler totter off in the wrong direction. “Cheyenne, if he’s stupid enough to start a fight, let him.”
“He’s wasted, and they’re gonna kill him.”
“Why is that suddenly your problem?” Ember stopped and stared in exasperation at the empty balcony and the flash of bone-white hair fluttering toward the courtyard below. “Right. ‘Cause jumping off balconies is her thing now.”
Cheyenne landed in a crouch, steadying herself with her fingertips on the stone, then rose to her feet. “Hey! What the hell’s wrong with you?”
L’zar ignored her. So did the raugs. One of them reached out when the drunken drow thief darted past in a blurred streak. L’zar was ripped out of his enhanced speed when the raug’s fist buried itself in the drow’s long white hair. His roar of pain and fury cut off when the raug jerked him back by his locks and smashed his other fist into L’zar’s gut.
The drow hit the ground and slid away on his back, firing flashing red bursts of magic that went everywhere but at his attackers. Cheyenne ducked a stray burst and it hit the wall behind her, resulting in an explosion of stone chips and black dust. “Come on.”
The raug closest to L’zar charged the drow with a crazed sneer, his black tongue hanging out of his mouth in drunken excitement. L’zar lashed out with a booted foot and connected squarely with the gray-skinned magical’s kneecap. Something crunched, and the raug bellowed as he crashed down on his other knee.
“I’m serious.” Cheyenne darted forward when the second raug lunged toward L’zar with both fists raised high above his head. “You guys need to cut this shit out! Hey! I’m talking to you!”
The raug only had enough room in his Bloodshine-addled head to focus on his target. As his arms swung toward L’zar’s chest, Cheyenne reached out. Lashing black tendrils burst from her fingertips and whipped around the raug’s forearms. She yanked back, he jerked down toward L’zar, and both were whisked off their feet to stagger toward each other.
Cheyenne’s coils slithered away from around the raug’s wrists when she looked up and found his face inches from hers. The raug snarled in battle-maddened glee.
“No.” She pointed at him. “I came down here to break this up.”
His thick gray forehead cracked against hers, and she reeled backward with a grunt. The raug’s drunken roar of laughter cut off when L’zar jumped onto his back and swung wildly with both fists.
Cheyenne rubbed her forehead and scowled. This isn’t even a real fight. “L’zar! You’re not doing yourself any—whoa!”
The third raug had come up behind her and now lifted her with one hand clenched around the back of her shirt and the other arm wrapped around her waist. The next thing she knew, she was flying through the air toward the wall of the building. She caught a glimpse of Ember’s furious glare at the edge of the balcony before the halfling aimed her black lashing tendrils at the railing. They coiled around it before Cheyenne struck the wall, and she managed to pull herself up and hit that wall with the soles of her feet instead of her face.
Ember moved forward in the crawler and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were into fighting this early in the morning.”
“I’m not.” Cheyenne released the black whips of drow magic from her fingertips and dropped to the ground. I’m done with everyone fighting raugs at the worst possible time.
She summoned a crackling black orb of energy in one hand and tossed it at the raug swinging his fist at L’zar
’s face again. Her attack hit the magical in the shoulder and sent him spinning away from the drow thief, but another raug came up behind L’zar and sucker-punched him. L’zar staggered toward Cheyenne, briefly lifting a hand to his jaw.
“Time to call it.” She put a hand on his shoulder to draw him away from the growling raugs. L’zar’s elbow shot up and cracked into her nose before he realized he’d made contact with his daughter instead of a hulking grayskin.
Cheyenne’s back thumped against the wall, tears filling her eyes at the overwhelming pain, and gingerly prodded her nose with a hiss. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
L’zar spun and peered at her, his golden eyes unfocused as he staggered sideways. “Don’t get in my way.”
All her attempts to be the voice of reason disappeared. With a snarl, she shot two black energy spheres at the drow thief, who ducked one and took the other in the shoulder. Cheyenne’s first orb glanced off a raug’s head as he lowered it and charged the only two drow in Hirúl Breach.
The third raug appeared from nowhere and snatched Cheyenne away from the wall before throwing her into the fray. She was caught up in a flurry of flying fists and snarling teeth as three raugs and L’zar Verdys exchanged blows aimed at anything that moved.
“End them!” the spectators shouted.
“Hey, we’re not ending anybody!” Cheyenne ducked a red-clawed gray fist and stepped under the flailing raug’s swing before kicking him away. “Cut it out!”
The gray-skinned magicals around them jeered and stomped their feet, roaring in excitement. L’zar darted into enhanced speed over and over but was forced back out of it every time by a raug’s outstretched foot or lowered shoulder or the swing of a massive arm.
When two raugs sent their fists hurtling toward L’zar at the same time, Cheyenne gritted her teeth and raised a translucent black shield around her father. The raugs’ fists glanced off it with echoing cracks like they’d struck metal and the magicals staggered away, bellowing. L’zar threw his head back and cackled. Cheyenne ducked another swing by the third raug as her father backed away from behind the shield and darted back into the fight.