by Martha Carr
“Yeah, so are we. Thanks.” Cheyenne nodded for Ember to step out of the kitchen with her. Eleanor’s moans of discomfort followed them through the swinging door.
“So, now that your mom’s lying in bed instead of standing frozen in the backyard, Eleanor’s cool as a cucumber, huh?”
“I guess so.” Cheyenne stopped behind the loveseat and braced herself against it for a moment. “This isn’t exactly the way I—”
The front door creaked open, followed by heavy footsteps. Lots of heavy footsteps.
“Holy fucking mansion.”
“Dude, would you look at the size of this place?”
“How are we supposed to find her in here, huh? I bet you there are a million fell-damn rooms, and half of ‘em are hidden or something.”
Cheyenne jerked her head up and stared at the foyer, which was blocked by half of the huge central staircase. “No. No way.”
“Yeah, you don’t walk into someone else’s house uninvited.”
“It’s not like I just didn’t invite them, Em. I told them no. More than once.” Cheyenne pushed herself away from the loveseat and stormed through her mom’s house to the front door. “Hey. Nobody told you guys to bring the whole damn circus into the house.”
“Relax, halfling.” Lumil dismissed her with a wave and gazed around the foyer. “You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“Yeah, L’zar’s the one who shipped us all off up the hill.” Persh’al let out a low whistle. “Never thought I’d be looking at the inside of this place, kid.”
“And you’re not supposed to be.” Cheyenne shook her head and tried to block them as Jamal, Payton, and the FRoE agents stepped inside. “This isn’t L’zar’s house. He doesn’t get to decide who walks through that door.”
Bhandi pointed at her and raised an eyebrow. “Not your house either, right?”
The halfling pointed at the open front door. “Get out.”
“After we’ve all had a chance to sit down and chat face to face about what happens now,” L’zar said as he stepped slowly inside. “Interesting.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Nobody’s gonna listen to me about this, are they?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Rhynehart muttered, stepping around L’zar in the doorway and skirting past the drow thief with a wary gaze. “I’ll tell you one thing. I’m tired of sitting, standing, and sleeping on that grass. I don’t care how soft it is.”
“Pretty soft, though, right?” Lumil winked at Rhynehart and chuckled when he turned away from her to explore more of Bianca Summerlin’s house.
“So, where should we gather?” L’zar’s gaze lingered at the top of the wide staircase, then he looked at his daughter and raised his eyebrows.
Cheyenne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The dining room, I guess.”
“Excellent. And that would be where?”
Grimacing at her father, Cheyenne gestured at the back of the house. “Under the stairs.”
Bhandi gave the halfling a confused frown. “Say what?”
“You’ll see.” Rolling her eyes at Ember, Cheyenne brushed past the uninvited magicals and led them to the long dining table at the back of the house, which overlooked the veranda and the valley beyond it.
“Lovely.” L’zar pulled out a chair facing the wall of windows, dropped into it, propped his feet on the seat next to him, and folded his arms.
Cheyenne stared at his shoes, stacked one on top of the other. Mom would kill him if she saw that. Too bad she’s passed out upstairs.
The other magicals filtered around the dining table, scooting out chairs and thumping boots and chair legs on the floor.
“Hey, big guy.” Persh’al nodded at Jamal and pointed at the head of the table. “Go ahead and take a seat.”
Jamal folded his arms. “I’ll break that chair.”
“What? Come on. You don’t know that.”
“I can tell, troll.”
Persh’al lifted both hands and shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”
Cheyenne took the chair at the head of the table instead because it was the only one left open. I’m not about to stand here feeling like I’m on the outside listening in. Who knows how long this is gonna take?
L’zar smacked the table. “Now that we’re all such great friends…”
Corian snorted. “What’s this about?”
“I’ve found our next step.”
“Which has nothing to do with breaking L’zar’s curse on my mom.” Cheyenne folded her arms and sat back in the chair, staring at her father.
“Which I also tried to share with you this morning before my sister and that portal had a little meltdown together. Incidentally, your mother’s in much better condition now, isn’t she? Tucked safely into her bed upstairs, I’m assuming.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “Don’t.”
“Then don’t interrupt me.” L’zar glared at her and turned to address the other magicals around the table. “I found exactly what we need next to bolster the irrefutable terms Cheyenne will be presenting to the Crown in a few days. No, it’s not a direct solution to aiding the lovely woman whose home we currently occupy—”
The halfling snorted.
He ignored her. “But when the Spider steps down off her throne, the curse she never intended for Ms. Summerlin will end on its own.”
“Don’t say that’s gonna happen if you’re not sure,” Cheyenne warned.
“Well, even if I wasn’t sure, I’d still say it because I’d still have a hunch.” L’zar leaned over the table and glared at his daughter. “But I’m sure.”
“Hold on. Wait a minute.” Yurik thumped both elbows on the table and lifted his hands for everyone to stop. “You said some stuff about a crown and a throne and a curse and…I don’t even know. But I do know it all sounds like bullshit. What’s really going on?”
L’zar clicked his tongue at the muscular goblin. “Pity you Earthborn have no idea where you truly come from.”
“We come from right here, asshole.” Bhandi jammed her finger on the table. “That’s why we do what we do. To protect this world from everything else. Like you.”
L’zar grimaced in distaste. “I assure you, if I wanted to destroy this world, I could very easily do so, and I am not the greatest danger we still face.”
“Oh, yeah?” Tate folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “What’s worse than you?”
Rhynehart cleared his throat and pointed at the wall of windows overlooking the backyard as he stared at the tattooed troll. “That. What we saw out there is worse than L’zar Verdys. Worse than him breaking out of Chateau D’rahl, worse than him leading us on a wild fucking goose chase. Whatever has to happen to make sure that doesn’t repeat itself, I’m all for it.”
Every magical around the table stared at the human FRoE agent and his sudden change of heart.
Cheyenne raised her eyebrows. “Gotta admit, man, that’s not what I expected you to say.”
He met her gaze and looked quickly down at the table, his nostrils flaring. “That makes two of us.”
Bhandi narrowed her eyes at the team leader and leaned toward Tate, sitting beside her, to mutter, “You see him get hit in the head by any of those flying rocks?”
“Nope.”
“Huh. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
L’zar turned his golden eyes to Rhynehart and grinned. “This is a pleasure, though. Hearing those words from an operative of the FRoE. And a human.” The drow thief wiggled his eyebrows, and Rhynehart glared at him. “I’m also glad you mentioned that wonderfully hospitable prison you people insist on believing you run.”
Rhynehart stared at the drow thief. “Whatever.”
“Not quite.” L’zar rapped his knuckles on the table and leaned forward, peering at the odd collection of magicals with narrowed eyes. “I’m feeling rather generous today. One might even say my eyes have been opened to a larger, grander plan. Or perhaps I’m still riding the high of finally pulling something useful
out of my head.” He gave Cheyenne a pointed look. “Whatever the reason, I’ll let all of you in on this next part of the plan.”
“Oh, good.” Tate nodded. “There’s a plan.”
L’zar stared at Rhynehart, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a sneer. “You’re the one running this little Earthbound band of agents, if that’s what you want to call yourselves, so let me make this perfectly clear. I will kill you if you try to stop us.”
Cheyenne sat up straighter in the chair. “Wait a minute. L’zar.”
“On the other hand,” L’zar continued, “this might be an opportunity for you to make yourselves useful. I do hope you take it.”
Rhynehart glared at the drow thief. “I’ll make that decision when you quit playing games and tell us whatever the fuck you brought us here to say.”
“Hmm.” L’zar’s lips parted in a lazy, crooked smile. “I always play games, human. I thought you knew that by now.”
“Seriously, L’zar.” Cheyenne shook her head. “Just spit it out already, huh?”
The drow thief grinned. “There’s a certain—”
The rattle of dishes accompanied the swinging door on the southeast side of the house opening, and Eleanor bustled into the sitting area with a breakfast-laden silver tray. “Well, Cheyenne, since you never came to tell me you were leaving, I assumed I might as well make breakfast.”
The housekeeper stopped when she saw thirteen magicals and one human staring at her from various places around the table.
Her mouth opened and closed silently until someone cleared their throat and snapped her out of it. “I’ll just go make more breakfast, then.” She spun and took the entire tray with her as she returned to the kitchen.
Cheyenne called, “Eleanor, you really don’t have to.”
“Carry on without me,” the woman cried shrilly, then the kitchen door muffled her voice as it swung back and forth behind her.
Ember caught Cheyenne’s gaze and leaned in to whisper, “She’s not really gonna make breakfast for fourteen people, is she?”
“I mean, the kitchen was built for it.” Ember gave her a sharp look, and Cheyenne shook her head. “No, Em. She won’t kick us out, but she’s not cooking for everybody.” Especially L’zar and the first FRoE agent to turn on me and try blackmail-via-Bianca on for size. Fairly sure Eleanor hates both of them.
“Well.” L’zar chuckled and laced his fingers behind his head. “Minor disruptions aside—”
“Okay, now I’m getting fed up with your posturing,” Corian grumbled. “You’ve had your fun.”
“Oh, see, that’s just it.” L’zar grinned at his Nós Aní with an extra flash of warning in his golden eyes. “The fun’s just beginning because the agents at this table are going to help us break another inmate out of Chateau D’rahl.”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Rhynehart jolted in his chair and leaned forward to stare at the grinning drow thief. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
“Naturally.”
Corian frowned and stroked his tawny-furred chin. “Who is it?”
“Venga.”
The nightstalker’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, he shut his mouth again and turned to Maleshi. The general raised both hands and slowly shook her head.
“That’s the kinda reaction nobody likes to get.” Bhandi shook a finger at the nightstalkers. “Especially from two—whatever the hell you are.”
“Nightstalkers, dumbass.” Tate scowled at her. “Seriously, only an idiot would fuck around like you are right now.”
“You know what? I should’ve let that gang in Virginia Beach gut you like a fish.”
Corian closed his eyes. “I swear, two arguing goblins were already more than enough. Now I have to deal with trolls too.”
“I’ll take care of them for you, vae shra’ni.” Maleshi grinned at Tate and Bhandi and extended her claws from all five fingers with a metallic shring. “I have no history with them.”
Tate lifted a finger. “Okay, wait a minute.”
“Everybody needs to wait a minute,” Cheyenne cut in. “For real. My mom’s in some kinda magical coma upstairs, and we need to figure out our next steps right now. Save the bullshit for when no one cares about you wasting everyone’s time, all right?”
The magicals around the table shut up and stared at the drow halfling. Persh’al giggled and covered his mouth up with a blue hand.
Cheyenne turned back to L’zar and raised her eyebrows. “Who’s Venga?”
The drow thief chuckled. “Something of a friend, you might say. More or less.”
Corian snorted and folded his arms, slowly shaking his head.
“That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence.”
“Well, at the very least, Cheyenne, he’s far more of a friend to us than to the Spider.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne looked at her father and Corian. “Think he’s someone I can put on the roster for potential new Crown?”
“For potential…ha! Absolutely not!” L’zar threw his head back and laughed. His dark voice echoed around the vaulted ceilings and glass walls of Bianca’s stately home.
Cheyenne glared at him. If that doesn’t wake Mom up, she’s definitely still cursed.
When he’d finished laughing, the Weaver sniffed and gave her a condescending smile. “Not that kind of friend, but he is someone who can help us put down the loyalists on this side, at the very least. At the most—and here’s to hoping for that—Venga will be able to access the rest of the information we can use as leverage against Ba’rael. An added bonus, you might say. Far more effective when it trades hands from one old friend to another.”
“And he’s a prisoner at Chateau D’rahl?” Rhynehart asked.
“Indeed.”
“Then why the hell don’t I recognize the name?”
“Oh.” L’zar feigned surprise. “I wasn’t aware you knew the names of every inmate in that hulk of rock, human.”
“You’re not aware of a lot of things, including how much time I’ve spent in that prison beyond chaperoning father-daughter visits.”
“Of course.” The drow thief gave Rhynehart a hideously fake smile of understanding and dipped his head. “Does the name Vinny ring a bell?”
Rhynehart stood abruptly from his chair with the loud screech of wood scooting across wood. “Fuck you. No!”
“No, you don’t recognize the name?”
“No, we’re not breaking that thing out of Chateau D’rahl! Goddammit. Just when I’m starting to think you might not be as crazy as everyone thinks you are!”
L’zar chuckled. “I’m flattered.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.” The agent thumped a fist on the table. “Do you have any idea how much of our resources we put into keeping Vinny in there?”
“His real name is Venga.” The drow gave Rhynehart a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sure you can understand an appreciation for calling something or someone by their real name, can’t you?”
“I don’t care if we call him Mary fucking Poppins. We’re not breaking him out!”
Cheyenne and the FRoE agents shot Rhynehart confused looks. He was starting to sound like Sir. Another one bites the dust.
Rhynehart seemed to realize that, and no matter how deeply he frowned to try hiding it, the light flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks was unmistakable.
“And I do know, by the way,” L’zar added casually.
“Know what?” The team leader folded his arms and couldn’t help but glance quickly around the table at everyone watching him argue with the mad drow thief.
“How much of your resources you put into keeping Venga locked up. I should know, at any rate. I spent seventy-five years in that sandcastle you call a prison.”
Rhynehart scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t think breaking him out is all it’s gonna take to get the guy to agree to anything I’m involved in, at the very least.”
“Why? Were you the one who put him away?”
“So
mething like that.” Scowling, the operative slowly lowered himself into his chair and scooted toward the table again. “Why would he help us at all? Why would he help you?”
“Why, indeed.” L’zar smoothed his white hair away from his face with both hands, tossed his head back, and interlaced his fingers behind it again as he stared up at the bright blue sky through the wall of windows. “Venga will help me because he used to be one of Ba’rael’s most fervent disciples. And I believe he owes me a blood debt.”
Cheyenne groaned. “Are you serious?”
Her father dipped his head and spread his arms, a sly smile playing on his lips.
“Who the hell is this Ba’rael?” Rhynehart grumbled. “You guys are throwing that name around like it’s fucking candy.”
“Yeah.” Byrd snorted. “The poisonous kind.”
Lumil frowned at him in question before slapping his shoulder.
“Ow.”
When Cheyenne met Ember’s gaze, the fae shrugged and shook her head. Guess I’m running on my own counsel right now, like everybody else. Rolling her eyes, she leaned toward Rhynehart. “Okay, let’s get this over with. Ba’rael Verdys. L’zar Verdys’ older sister. Technically, that makes her my aunt. And she’s the Crown of Ambar’ogúl.”
“The Crown?” Rhynehart raised his eyebrows and looked lost.
“Yeah. The drow dictator of the entire world over there, who’s responsible for all the new Border portals, the war machines, that portal ridge exploding on us, the curse on my mom, oh, and the blight.”
“Your aunt?” Rhynehart scrunched up his face and looked between L’zar and the thief’s halfling daughter.
Cheyenne shrugged. “And I’m trying to kick her off the throne so I can take her place. Temporarily. Mostly to fix all the shit she’s screwed up over the last few thousand years. So now you know.” She stared at the table and slowly lifted her gaze to look at Rhynehart again.
The agent’s aggravated flush had disappeared, taking what was left of the color in his face with it. He stared at Cheyenne, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallowed. He replied in a harsh, grating whisper, “Jesus fuck.”
L’zar grinned at his daughter and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “This is so much fun.”