The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  Venga growled and stalked back to the open trunk. He pulled out a black leather jacket and a pair of worn, baggy jeans before stripping off the rags of his prison uniform and changing right there in front of everyone.

  Ember blinked furiously and turned away. “Guess privacy isn’t an issue when you’re chained up in a tank.”

  “Apparently.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in the pockets of her trenchcoat and shrugged. “Honestly, I’m waiting to see what he’s gonna do with that leaf.”

  “He’s not gonna eat that too, is he? That was weird.”

  Corian chuckled. “Endowments and a Nimlothar have two different uses for a scaleback.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Cheyenne forced herself not to look at Venga tugging on his jeans and slipping his thick tail through a tailored hole in the back. “What does he get out of something from a drow tree?”

  “None of your business, Aranél,” Venga grunted and slammed the dented lid of the trunk closed. He slipped the Nimlothar leaf into his jacket pocket and headed back to L’zar. “I don’t remember this many questions being part of our arrangement.”

  “They’re not.” L’zar waved a dismissive hand at his daughter. “She’s still learning.”

  Cheyenne stepped toward them. “Okay, wait a minute.”

  “Our business is completed,” L’zar said, nodding at Venga and lifting a finger to silence Cheyenne. She folded her arms and glared at him. “But you now have the opportunity to repay the Crown for what she’s done to you.”

  Venga’s forked tongue flickered from between his scaly lips. “An opportunity I’d be more than happy to accept.”

  “Excellent.” L’zar turned to Cheyenne with a pert smile. “Then when it’s time, you’ll be making the crossing with my daughter.”

  Cheyenne stopped. “Wait, what?”

  Venga turned his black eyes on her and sneered. “Agreed. Now let’s go. I’m hungry.”

  “Hungry?” Ember frowned at him as he stalked across the destroyed Bull’s Head vault to the front entry hole in his former shape and size.

  “For the last five years, fae, my meals have been highly unsatisfactory.”

  “What did they give you?”

  Venga snapped his fingers, and a haze of green smoke bloomed around him before he masked himself in a human illusion with short-cropped black hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and brilliant green eyes. Two hands instead of four slipped into the pockets of his leather jacket as he stepped through the doorway. “You don’t want to know.”

  Ember’s eyes widened, and she stepped aside to let the other magicals pass through, pulling up their illusion spells again.

  Cheyenne headed over to her father as he strolled casually across the room, his hands clasped behind his back again. “L’zar, I don’t think we need to keep adding magicals to the list.”

  “Of course not. But it’s done. Think of him as your personal bodyguard. I can’t be with you when you return, and Venga may even be a better choice. He wants to see the Crown fall as much as we do.” He chuckled. “Perhaps more.”

  “How am I supposed to trust someone who stashed his clothes and his magic in a place run by the Bull’s Head?”

  “You don’t need to trust him, Cheyenne. Just let him join you.” They stepped outside onto the sidewalk, and L’zar cast a brief glance at Corian and Maleshi, who were discussing lunch options with Venga. “At the very least, his presence will make a much more convincing argument than mine. Ba’rael’s never had much luck with necromancers.”

  “With what?” Cheyenne leaned away from him, her eyes wide.

  L’zar tossed a hand in the air. “He’s one of the best. Deals with death magic and the spirits of those beyond the deathflame. To tell you the truth, it’s something I’ve never cared to dabble in.”

  “Oh, great. You’re sending me back with someone versed in magic too dark for even you to touch. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It’s not, but the look on Ba’rael’s face when she meets you with Venga at your side will be more than worth it.” L’zar grinned and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I do regret not being able to see that.”

  Venga grunted. “Cheeseburgers.”

  “Ah.” L’zar stepped away from his daughter, ignoring her scowl, and gestured down the street. “If that’s what you want, we’re happy to assist you.”

  “Something I missed very much, yes,” Venga said, smiling as L’zar patted him on the back. They led the rest of the startled magicals down the street to the closest burger joint.

  Ember stuck her thumb out at the destroyed building behind them. “We’re gonna leave the place like this?”

  “It’s not our problem anymore.” Maleshi joined them. “Think of it as a message for the Bull’s Head. The tables have turned.”

  “Yeah, and they’ll know exactly who broke into that trunk to pull out his magic and eat it again.” Lumil snorted and slammed a fist into her other palm. “I’m done fighting shit I can’t hear screaming in pain.”

  “Jesus.” Cheyenne shook her head. “Have you always been this sadistic?”

  The goblin grinned at her. “Have you?”

  The halfling shrugged. “I just wanna know why it’s so hard to pin down these loyalists and finally stop them. All of them.”

  “That’s why you’re trying to get in with the colonel, right?” Ember tossed her hair out of her face and floated gracefully beside them. “If he’s the one with connections to the Bull’s Head, you’ll find them through him.”

  “He’s the one, Em.” Cheyenne pulled off the activator and stuck it back in her pocket. “I’m waiting for proof from Major Sir Carson. If I’m gonna nail Colonel Thomas, I gotta do it the right way. Take the right steps.”

  “Listen to you.” Maleshi fought back a laugh. “Cheyenne Summerlin’s going by the books to root out the thorn in all our sides.”

  Ember chuckled. “Yeah, but there isn’t a book for dealing with traitors in the FRoE.”

  Cheyenne laughed. “I’m making it up as I go along.” So far, it’s taking way too much time. Sir better not be screwing around.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  “This is too weird.” Ember lifted her burger to her mouth with both hands but couldn’t stop staring at Venga, who was sitting at the table next to them. “Just sitting here like this. In public. With everyone.”

  Cheyenne took a bite of her own burger, leaning forward as sauce and chunks of fried jalapeños hit the paper wrapper. “Just as long as the necromancer doesn’t do anything crazy in public, I think we’re good.”

  Ember closed her mouth and lowered her burger to the table as she stared at the halfling. “Sorry, it sounded like you said ‘necromancer.’”

  “Yep.” Cheyenne took another bite and stared at the table.

  “Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.” The fae eyed Venga, who’d devoured two double cheeseburgers and was now on a third, ignoring his illusion goatee covered in ketchup and mustard. “Well, he sure is eating like someone who came back from the dead.”

  Maleshi chuckled as she sat across from them with her tray of food. “That’s not quite how it works.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Ember abandoned her burger for the paper cup she’d filled with iced tea and took a long drink. “I’m just trying to talk myself into pretending any of this is normal.”

  “It isn’t.” Corian sat beside Maleshi, grabbed a handful of fries, and jammed them all into his mouth at once. “Neither is necromancy, but Venga is one of the best.”

  “I’d go so far as to say the best.” The general snatched a handful of fries off Corian’s tray and dropped them on hers. “Which made him that much worse when he served the Crown.”

  “L’zar said she wasn’t a fan of necromancers.”

  “Ba’rael?” Maleshi snorted. “She’s not, but she appreciated what he could do.”

  Ember set her drink down with a grimace and eyed Venga, her nostrils flaring at the sound of him gobbling his burger and chew
ing madly with an open mouth and satisfied grunts. “What, she made him talk to the dead for her or something?”

  “Ha.” Venga swallowed his last bite and washed it down with half his cup of root beer. Then he sighed and sat back in his chair. “The Spider never made me do anything.”

  Sitting across from the escaped prisoner, L’zar clicked his tongue. “Not to your knowledge.”

  “I was content to serve the Crown just like the rest of us, Weaver.” Venga gestured at Maleshi, who rolled her eyes. “Until she turned on me. Her mistake.”

  “Oh, indeed.” L’zar popped a fry into his mouth and folded his hands on the table.

  Sitting farther down at that table, Lumil slapped Byrd’s hand away from her tray. “If you wanted French fries, asshole, you should’ve ordered some.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  “No.”

  Ember leaned back in her chair, already wary of the answer as she stared at Venga’s sauce-smeared goatee. “What did she do to you?”

  “She sent me Earthside,” Venga grumbled and unwrapped the fourth burger on his tray. “Of course, that was only after she’d gotten what she wanted from me.”

  “Which was what?” Cheyenne took another sloppy bite of burger and leaned farther forward, propping her forearms on the edge of the table.

  “There is alchemy involved in my work, Aranél. Transformations and reallocation of magic. The Spider tasked me with channeling the excess magic she took from others into something that would solidify her power.”

  L’zar grinned as he watched Venga digging into the last of his abnormally large meal.

  Ember frowned. “You mean, like that huge glass container thing in that room full of black sludge?”

  Venga swallowed and shook his head, sucking mayonnaise off his fingers. “That was a conduit.”

  “Well, your conduit exploded before we left Hangivol,” Cheyenne muttered. “Spewed extra magic everywhere, and we had to—”

  “Get creative in cleaning it up,” L’zar finished for her. He shot his daughter a warning glance as he sat back in his chair. Then his grin returned.

  Oh, of course. Don’t tell the necromancer about the Sorren Gán. That’d be going way too far. She snorted and took another bite.

  Venga gulped down more root beer, then rattled the ice around in the empty cup and stared at it. “That wasn’t my work. I’m not surprised it didn’t hold the way she wanted.”

  “So, what was your work?” Ember asked. “’Cause we saw a lot of messed-up crap in the capital.”

  “I’m sure. No, I crafted an overflow of sustained dark magic spread as far from Ba’rael as she was willing to go. And the rest of it was left to its own devices. I’m sure by now, it also isn’t holding the way she expected.” Venga grunted at his empty cup. “There is little I enjoy more than this sweet Earthside beer. How much of this would it take to be as strong as a tankard of grog?”

  Lumil snorted. “All the root beer in the world couldn’t hold up against grog, man.”

  Beside her, Byrd laughed and stole another of her French fries. “You should go ahead and try it. I’d like to see that.”

  “I want more.” Venga scooted his chair back and stood.

  Ember pointed at him. “You didn’t say what you made for her.”

  The escaped prisoner looked around the restaurant before his gaze settled on the soda machine. “I called it the Undoing, and from what I hear, it has been quite effective.” He took off to refill his drink.

  Ember slumped in her seat and rolled her eyes. “How hard is it to get a real answer out of that guy?”

  Cheyenne took a long sip of her bottled water and looked at the nightstalkers sitting across from her. “Why do both of you look like you’re hiding something?”

  Maleshi raised an eyebrow and stared after Venga. She slowly slipped a fry into her mouth and shrugged. “He calls it the Undoing.”

  L’zar chuckled. “And we’ve been calling it the blight. Honestly, I prefer his name for it.”

  Cheyenne choked on her next sip of water and fought not to spray it all over the table and the nightstalkers sitting across from her. Swallowing quickly, she coughed and leaned over the table to whisper harshly, “Are you fucking serious?”

  Corian looked at Maleshi, and the general shrugged before stuffing her face with another huge bite of food.

  Ember bowed her head and ran her fingers slowly over her eyebrows. “Are you saying we’re sitting here eating bacon cheeseburgers with the mad death-magic scientist who engineered the blight?”

  “Death-magic scientist.” L’zar chuckled as he pointed at the fae with a floppy French fry. “An accurate and entertaining description.”

  Cheyenne dropped the rest of her burger and clenched her eyes shut. “When we agreed to break this guy out of prison, L’zar, it was under the assumption that Venga would help us against Ba’rael. Because that’s all you told us, not that we’d be unleashing the mastermind behind the shit that’s killing your world and trying to slip into this one.”

  L’zar chomped on the fry and dusted off his fingers. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Cheyenne.”

  “In what universe do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that?”

  “Hmm.” The drow thief shrugged. “All of them?”

  “We should take him back.” Ember looked at the nightstalkers and nodded. “Just drop him off in front Chateau D’rahl and let them handle him.”

  Maleshi shook her head. “I don’t think that’s an option at this point, Ember.”

  “Why not?” The fae gestured at Venga, who was still standing in front of the soda machines. He’d already downed another cup of root beer and was now filling it for the third time. “I mean, forget the necromancer part, whatever the hell that means. He made the fucking blight. He has to be insane.”

  “They say there’s a fine line between insanity and genius,” L’zar replied. “I love that line. It applies to so many facets of—”

  “No one asked the nutjob’s opinion on insanity, okay?” Ember raised a hand, turning her head to L’zar but not looking him in the eye.

  Corian chuckled. Maleshi kept eating her burger. Byrd’s mouth dropped open in the middle of chewing up more stolen fries. On the other side of him, Persh’al shook his head and flipped through something in his cell phone.

  Ember shot L’zar a quick glance. “No offense.”

  He raised an eyebrow at Cheyenne and laughed softly. “If I were less aware of the finer nuances here, Ember, I most likely wouldn’t believe you.”

  Cheyenne closed her eyes and couldn’t hide a small smile. About time someone else stood up to his bullshit. I’m glad it’s her.

  “Still.” The fae cleared her throat. “I can’t see a single good thing about bringing Venga back to Ambar’ogúl with us. What’s to keep him from turning on us the minute Ba’rael snaps her fingers?”

  “Well, first of all, I’m not a dog.”

  Ember jumped and spun in her chair. Venga gazed down at her with his straw between his lips and gulped down more root beer.

  “You do not see the full scope of what was done, so I’ll tell you.” Venga walked between the tables and returned to his seat. The other magicals went back to eating their meals, anticipating the necromancer’s story. Ember swallowed and stiffly lowered her hands into her lap. After another long drink, Venga finally put down his cup and let out a contented sigh. “Yes, I crafted the Undoing. Yes, it has had far more drastic effects than I anticipated.”

  “It’s consuming Ambar’ogúl,” Cheyenne muttered. “That’s pretty drastic.”

  “It was not meant to go so far.” Venga folded his arms. “Once my work was finished, once I’d convinced Ba’rael of the Undoing’s efficacy, she sent me here to ‘prepare our sister world for the dawning of a new age,’ as she put it.”

  Ember snorted. “Said every genocidal dictator ever.”

  “I made the crossing,” Venga continued. “I convened with the Bull’s Head, already very mu
ch established on this side. And I fulfilled my purpose here in certain instruction of those loyal to the Crown.”

  Cheyenne stared. “You’re the one who brought all that black magic shit across the Border.”

  “If you mean knowledge of how to craft and utilize it, Aranél, then yes. The first of it, at least.”

  “Okay, now I’m with Ember on this one.”

  L’zar shushed her. “Let him finish.”

  Venga blinked. “If they do not wish to hear the rest of it—”

  “No, no. Please.” Cheyenne gestured for him to continue before folding her arms. “You’re building a really strong case for yourself.”

  Maleshi snorted and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  Venga gazed at the halfling. “I did what I was ordered to do in this world, and when that was finished, the Bull’s Head did what they were ordered to do. They turned against me, used the knowledge I’d shared with them to siphon my magic into the endowments, and left me at a scene of their destruction to be picked up by the FRoE.”

  Cheyenne blinked at him. “They framed you.”

  “And I spent five years in that fell-damn tank because of it.”

  “Damn.” Byrd rubbed his bald head. “That’s some next-level betrayal shit right there.”

  “That is what Ba’rael the Spider does to those with powers greater than her own.” Venga stuck his straw in his mouth and guzzled down more root beer as he gazed around the tables of magicals.

  “To those she fears,” L’zar added and slapped a hand on the table in delight. “Which is exactly what makes you a perfect candidate for escorting Cheyenne back into the Heart.”

  “And if she dies of terror when she sees me again, I cannot say I’ll be disappointed,” Venga snarled. “At the very least, I mean to make her piss herself.”

  Byrd and Lumil burst out laughing, drawing looks from the closest human patrons.

  Venga met Cheyenne’s gaze and grinned, his tongue flicking out between his teeth despite it no longer looking forked or nearly as threatening. “Perhaps more than that, if the Aranél permits.”