by Martha Carr
She shot him a warning glance and shook her head. “Yeah, fuck you too.”
“Moving past that,” Maleshi said, waving a dismissive hand at Cheyenne, scowling above folded arms, and L’zar, grinning stupidly at his daughter, “how are we supposed to pull off something like this? You walked out of that prison on your own. Venga can’t do that.”
“Oh, no. He most certainly cannot. Which is where we come in.”
“Yeah, obviously. That’s the point of planning to break someone out of prison.” Cheyenne snorted. “The only question I can even handle right now is whether or not all of us sitting around this table are equipped to do something like that without making everything worse.”
“As in, can L’zar break back into prison?” Lumil snorted and let out a goofy chuckle.
“No, as in, do we need outside help?”
“You mean, like, call Sir and ask for his approval?” Yurik leaned back in his chair. “Just like calling us up here?”
“No.” Cheyenne pointed at him and slowly shook her head. “Sir stays out of it. If he gets back to me with an answer about Colonel Thomas before we do any of this, and I can make sure he’s not trying to fuck with me and go behind my back, then fine. Tell him whatever you want. But right now, we can’t risk any of Sir’s superiors getting wind of this, or we won’t just be breaking some has-been Crown loyalist out of Chateau D’rahl, we’ll be starting a war.” She glanced quickly at the nightstalkers and shrugged. “Another one.”
“You trust this human?” Maleshi asked, gesturing at Rhynehart. The man blinked furiously when he realized she was talking about him.
“Yeah.” Cheyenne nodded at him. “Pretty much.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“He’s the next highest in line with the FRoE? At least the ones we can get our hands on.” Maleshi nodded. “He’ll have to come with us to get this done.”
Rhynehart looked sharply at the general and pulled his head back with another fierce scowl. “Fuck. That.”
“That’s cute.” The nightstalker woman gave him a fierce grin. “You think you have a choice.”
“Hey, just because I don’t have magic and fucking whiskers, it doesn’t mean I have to do what you tell me.” Rhynehart spread his arms. “I don’t have to be here.”
“That’s for sure.” Lumil pushed to her feet and slammed her hands on the table. “If you feel like you need to get outta this, I’m sure I can find a river with ‘Human asshole strangled, drowned, and chopped into tiny pieces was here’ written all over it. Sound good?”
Rhynehart glared at the goblin woman and pointed at her. “You’re pushin’ it.”
“Yeah, pushing your fucking face into the toilet. How long can you hold your breath?”
“You know how many times I’ve been threatened and cursed at by magical thugs stepping out of line? That’s my job.” He looked her up and down and waved a dismissive hand at her before folding his arms again. “And you aren’t any different than the rest of them.”
Lumil’s chair screeched back across the floor as she leaped to her feet. “Oh, I’m a thug in your system you can’t keep in line, huh? Okay. I can be a thug.”
“Lumil,” Corian warned.
The goblin ignored him and whirled to the wet bar behind the dining table. She grabbed a huge bottle of expensive gin in one hand and the unopened bottle of vodka in the other before stalking around the table to Rhynehart. “Let’s go, little man. You wanna make this happen? I’ll bash your head in and settle my nerves at the same time.”
“Not here, Lumil.” Cheyenne pointed at her, but the goblin kept coming. “Jesus, cut it out!” The halfling sent her black lashing tendrils at Lumil’s hands, curled them around the bottles of liquor, and snatched them. The bottles shot into Cheyenne’s hands, and she slammed them onto the table with a loud thump. “You’re done. Sit down.”
Lumil glared at Cheyenne, then looked down at her empty hands and snarled. “I’ll stand right here.”
“Look.” Cheyenne met Rhynehart’s gaze. “We can do this with or without you, but it’ll be a hell of a lot less messy if it’s with you. I gave you the CliffsNotes version of what we’re trying to do on the other side of the Border, and you already know what we’re facing here. If we don’t get this done and stop Ba’rael sooner rather than later, that shit you saw spilling out of the portal right outside is gonna be everywhere, coming through every rez portal on this side. We both know there aren’t enough fae Earthside to clean up that mess on a scale that large.”
Rhynehart glowered at her but didn’t say a word.
Cheyenne slid the bottles away from her on the table so she wouldn’t have to stare at him through two thick pieces of glass. “You know I’m right, Rhynehart. And you know we have way more riding on this than you can possibly understand, no matter how many details I give you. We don’t need your help, but if we have it, you won’t need ours nearly as much after this.”
The agent’s lips parted in a grimace of frustration, then he thumped back against the chair. “If this is gonna happen, we’re not just storming into Chateau D’rahl with magic blazing.” His gaze slid slowly from Cheyenne to L’zar. “Something tells me that’s a preferred method with you people.”
“Magicals,” Maleshi corrected.
“Huh?”
“With us magicals. You have your own people, but we most certainly are not people.”
Rhynehart blinked slowly at the general. “We need a plan. That’s the only way I’ll agree to help you break out that prison’s most dangerous inmate.”
“Most dangerous?” L’zar chuckled. “Come on now. That’s hardly fair.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t in that prison anymore, are you?”
“Touché.”
“Great.” Cheyenne slapped her hands on the table and pushed to her feet. “Now we’re all on the same page. Now everyone needs to get the hell out of this house.”
“I said, a plan,” Rhynehart grumbled.
“Sure. Let’s make a plan. Not here.” She shook her head. “I’m not turning my mom’s house into our base of operations, okay? Not while she’s lying upstairs for who knows how long. And there’s no way in hell everyone’s gonna hang out around here long enough for her to find out about it. Let’s go.”
“Well, then where else do you suggest we go?” L’zar grinned at his daughter. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your apartment.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Persh’al spread his arms. “Did everyone forget about the warehouse, or are we just going through the options that aren’t really options for fun?”
“FRoE agents at the warehouse.” L’zar stroked his chin and pretended to consider it. “Isn’t that an unexpected turn of events.”
“Quit screwing around.” Cheyenne nodded at Corian. “No reason for us to stay here anymore. The portal’s gone. Let’s go.”
“My pleasure, Aranél.” Corian dipped his head and stood.
Rhynehart glanced at him and Cheyenne. “What’s all that about?”
“What? Nothing. I have to grab my stuff and tell Eleanor we’re leaving. She’s had enough surprises for a lifetime.” Cheyenne turned from the table, stopped, and looked over her shoulder to point at the magicals staring at her. “Nobody touches anything. Trust me, I’ll know.” Then she headed quickly toward the kitchen and disappeared.
Ember floated over to Rhynehart and leaned in to mutter, “It means ‘princess.’”
“What?”
“Aranél.”
The agent gave a wry laugh and shook his head. “Christ, could this day get any weirder?”
“Absolutely.” Corian nodded at him as he stepped around the table to the open space between it and the wall of windows. “The day just started, after all.”
“That was rhetorical.”
“Was it?” Corian lifted both hands and muttered the spell to open a new portal right there in Bianca Summerlin’s dining room.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
/> Cheyenne stormed back into the dining area with her backpack slung over her shoulders and Ember’s duffel bag swinging from one hand.
“What the hell is that?” Rhynehart stared at the shimmering oval of dark light that had opened in front of Corian.
“A portal.” The nightstalker grinned. “Congratulations. You’re the first human to ever go through one of these.”
“Oh, fuck no. Uh-uh. I’m not stepping anywhere near that thing!”
Cheyenne stopped beside Ember and handed her friend the duffle bag. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Ember took it and held it against her chest. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Just have to break up a fight before it starts every ten minutes. I’m great.” Cheyenne joined the other magicals gathering in front of the windows and clenched her fists. I knew it’d be weird to mix rebels with the FRoE, but this is getting ridiculous. “Rhynehart.”
“No fucking way, halfling.” He pointed at the open portal and shook his head. “I said I’d help you, but whatever the hell that thing is wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It’s all part of the deal. Get used to it.”
Persh’al snorted and marched past the uneasy operative. “It’s harmless, man. At least, this one is. Need someone to test it for you before you grow a pair?”
The blue troll ignored Rhynehart’s growled protest and stepped through the portal into the warehouse.
Rhynehart stared at the shimmering light, his eyes widening when Persh’al turned around, spread his arms, and disappeared from view.
“Go ahead.” Cheyenne nodded at the portal.
“You think I’m a fucking idiot?”
Lumil scoffed. “Yes.” She shoved Rhynehart from behind and sent him stumbling and shouting through the portal. “Some friends you got, halfling.”
“Yeah, I know.” Cheyenne gestured for the other FRoE agents to step through. Bhandi, Tate, and Yurik looked at each other in hesitation. Jamal grunted and shoved past all of them before ducking beneath the top of the portal and stepping through. Payton followed quickly, then the other agents sucked it up and hurried after them.
L’zar grinned at his daughter as the rest of the magicals gathered in front of the portal to step through. “I was wondering when your knack for diplomacy would show itself, Cheyenne.”
“It’s my low tolerance for bullshit. Don’t get too excited.” She stepped into Persh’al’s warehouse, with Ember close on her heels. Byrd, Lumil, L’zar, and finally both nightstalkers passed through, and the portal closed behind them with a soft pop.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me again,” Rhynehart shouted, pointing at Lumil.
The goblin woman snorted and stepped past him. “Then quit being a douche.”
Bhandi snickered but stopped when Tate shot her a warning glance.
“So, then.” L’zar rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get on with this plan, shall we?”
“No. Not shall we.” Rhynehart vigorously shook his head. “I don’t have any information here. My agents don’t have what they need. I have to get schematics, shift schedules, who’s got what security clearance for which block in which wing of the prison. You didn’t think about that, did you? You just pushed me through a goddamn portal and—”
“You need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Persh’al interjected. “Or before one of us hurts you. I’m way ahead of you, man.”
Rhynehart looked like he was choking as he blinked rapidly at the troll. “What?”
Persh’al stalked across the warehouse toward his computer setup at the trio of tables. “Hate to burst your bubble, human, but we’ve been here a lot longer than you.”
“No shit. You all live to be, what? Like a million?”
L’zar chuckled.
Maleshi smiled at the human agent as she pulled a folding metal chair from against the wall and lowered herself calmly into it.
Persh’al looked up from behind his computer monitor and frowned at Rhynehart. “No. I’m talking about the FRoE. Come on. You didn’t honestly think we didn’t notice how conveniently the birth of your fun little organization coincided with L’zar’s first escape, did you?”
Rhynehart spun until he found Cheyenne and scowled at her. “What’s he trying to say?”
“It’s coming through pretty clear to me.” She shrugged. “You need to get your hearing checked?”
“How do they know so much about us?”
“We’ve had our eyes on the whole thing for a long, long time.” Persh’al’s fingers flew across his keyboard; he didn’t even bother to sit in his swiveling desk chair before getting right to work. “Watching the Border reservations before they were called Border reservations. Before the FRoE had a chance to take over. And I’ve been itching to make a splash in Chateau D’rahl since that little gem popped up on the radar. When was that, L’zar? 1900?”
“1902, I believe.” L’zar raised his eyebrows at Rhynehart. “No reason to be embarrassed. It was state-of-the-art for the times. I got my own personal tour in 1946, though I must say, the renovations were on the sloppy side.”
Rhynehart stared at Cheyenne. “Are they for real?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Persh’al looked up from his computer and nodded at Rhynehart. “You said you’re part of it, human, so it’s better to just—”
“Quit calling me that!” The agent clenched his fists and glared at the blue troll. “I have a name, assholes. Use it.”
Persh’al looked at him. “Rhynehart’s not your first name, is it?”
“Jesus Christ.” Rhynehart pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s not my first name. Neither is ‘human.’”
Cheyenne couldn’t help it. She stepped over to him and leaned in to mutter, “You realize how long you’ve been calling me halfling, right?”
“That’s different.”
“Really?”
He looked at her and growled. “Get me out of here.”
“Sure.” She gestured at Persh’al’s computer. “Just as soon as we have our plan. That was your idea, by the way. So come on.”
Without waiting for a reply, she headed to Persh’al’s tables and grinned when she heard Rhynehart’s boots thumping across the cement floor behind her. I get it. He’s freaked out, and he’s lost the upper hand. Can’t say it isn’t satisfying to watch him squirm.
The other agents gazed around the warehouse. Bhandi stepped over to the piles of war machine parts. “This the kinda junk you keep around?” She kicked one of the metal hull pieces with her boot.
“Don’t.” Persh’al pointed at her. “Don’t kick the fell-damn machines. Don’t touch anything in here, got it? Endaru’s balls, man, it’s like having a bunch of toddlers running around.”
Bhandi scowled at him. “Say that again.”
Yurik scratched the side of his face. “Whose balls?”
Ember snorted and tried to wipe the grin off her face.
“Oh, yeah.” Bhandi nodded at her. “Funny fae girl has a laugh at our expense.”
“Come on, guys.” Ember shrugged. “You’re in a whole new world here, okay?”
“Like we didn’t already know that.” Bhandi pointed at the metal husks shoved against the wall. “You been part of this world long enough to know what the hell this crap is?”
Ember frowned. “Those are O’gúl war machines.”
“They’re what now?”
“Same thing that dug its way into Peridosh and attacked everybody.” Ember glanced from one FRoE agent to another. “Ring any bells?”
“Fuck.” Tate looked at the pile of scrap metal. “Are you shittin’ us?”
“No.”
“This isn’t the same one, right?” Yurik leaned toward the machine parts to study them from a full ten feet away. “Doesn’t look like the same one.”
“There are way more than that.” Ember turned to the other side of the warehouse as Cheyenne and Rhynehart reached Persh’al and his computer. “Did nobody fill these guys in on wha
t’s happening?”
Cheyenne gave Rhynehart a deadpan stare. “I told you to explain the rest of it.”
“You know what, half—Cheyenne.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“Oh, sure. I have no idea what that’s like. No problem.”
“Well, shit.” Lumil slapped her hands together. “If you Earthborn wanna grow up and play with the adults, somebody needs to tell you what’s what.”
Byrd snorted. “Yeah, like you know what that is.”
“I know what your face is gonna look like in two seconds if you don’t shut it.” Lumil lurched toward him, and the goblin man flinched away with a snicker. “You wanna hear what’s going on? I’ll tell you. And don’t ask questions, got it? That screws up my flow.”
Tuning out Lumil’s mostly accurate rendition of what they were up against on all sides, from the FRoE, the Earthside loyalists with war machines, and Ba’rael on the other side of the Border, Cheyenne studied Persh’al’s center monitor and watched him work.
“Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re thinking.” The blue troll’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and he shot Cheyenne a quick sideways glance. “You could use that fancy little coil behind your ear and pull up everything we need to know in two seconds. I get it.”
She smiled. “Probably less than two.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not the one who brought it up, man.”
Rhynehart folded his arms and swallowed thickly. “Somebody gonna tell me what the fuck any of that means?”
Persh’al shook his head and chuckled. “Cheyenne’s gone halfling-tech-prodigy on us, Rhynehart. But I’m the one who pulled all this together. You don’t get credit for all the hours I spent in this shithole, kid.”
Cheyenne removed the activator from behind her ear, wincing at the pinch, and stuck it in her pocket. “Do your thing.” Can’t focus when I can see everything way before he does.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” O’gúl symbols flashed across his monitor as Persh’al kept typing. Then he slammed the last key with a flourish and grinned up at Rhynehart. “Voila.”