by Martha Carr
“Well, let’s take that part one step at a time when we get there, huh? If you can scare the Crown enough to make her step down, that’s really all we need. But if it comes down to a fight—”
“I cannot involve myself.” Venga raised his super-sized soda cup toward the halfling and nodded. “I am aware of the old laws. I’m merely extending a suggestion for after the Spider crawls willingly down from her web.”
“Sure.” Cheyenne nodded. “I don’t give a shit about what happens to her afterward.”
“Excellent.” Venga’s green eyes narrowed, and he stuck the straw back into his mouth to gulp down more soda.
“What about the blight, though?” Ember asked.
The goateed magical raised his eyebrows. “The what?”
“Whatever you called it. The Undoing. If you created it, you know how to get rid of it, right?”
“Hmm. Perhaps. I imagine the Undoing has developed its own agenda, more or less. That happens when a necromancer’s work is left unchecked for so long without its master.”
“But you can help us reverse it.”
“I’m not certain it can be reversed.”
“Oh, yes, it can.” Ember leaned across her uneaten burger and pointed at her chest. “I pulled your fucked-up experiment out of a Raug chief to save his life, and I beat it back across a Border portal that wasn’t supposed to exist and definitely wasn’t supposed to be spewing the blight all over Cheyenne’s backyard.”
“Technically not my backyard.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “The point is, it can be reversed. It can be healed out of magicals and out of the earth. So if you’re coming with us to get revenge on the Spider, you sure as hell better do whatever you can to clean up the mess you left behind.”
Venga set his drink gently down on the table and held Ember’s gaze. “You are merely one fae.”
“No shit. Unfortunately, my magic isn’t strong enough to pull a necromancer’s poison out of an entire world. This is on you.”
“I will try.”
Ember scoffed and turned to Cheyenne. “A little help here?”
“Hey, you’re doing a pretty decent job all on your own.”
“Cheyenne.”
The halfling fought back a laugh and shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Em? He said he’ll try.”
“That’s not good enough. He needs to promise.”
“I cannot give my word before I’ve seen what has become of the Undoing,” Venga muttered, his root beer now forgotten as he frowned at Ember. “Nor will I make a vow to some fae who seems to think I am a hatchling she can order around.”
“’Some fae,’ huh?” Ember folded her arms. “Do you know who I am? Why I’m sitting next to this drow who already started the turn of a new Cycle?”
Cheyenne wiped her lips to cover a surprised smile and watched the showdown. She’s pulling out the Nós Aní card. Somehow, I get the feeling that’s not threatening to a necromancer.
Venga stared the fae down and raised his eyebrows. “Enlighten me.”
Ember sneered at him. “If you can’t figure it out, I don’t think your head’s in the right place to make the crossing with us. You know, too much time spent in an isolation tank.”
“Then promise to give the order,” Persh’al muttered as he tapped his cell phone. Every magical at both tables looked at him.
“What order?” Cheyenne asked.
When Persh’al realized everyone was staring at him, he shrugged and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Fighting about what he is and isn’t willing to promise before we even get there is pointless. When Ba’rael steps down and Cheyenne turns her new Cycle, she can give a fell-damn order to anyone, even a necromancer. Problem solved. Can we move on, or what?”
Ember opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it and sat back in her chair again.
“Okay.” Cheyenne pointed at Venga. “I agree with everything Ember said, so this is fair warning. I’ll order you to clean up the Undoing when we’re done with Ba’rael. Sound good?”
Venga stroked his goatee and turned his head to eye her sideways. “As long as it’s not the Spider, Aranél, I am happy to serve the Crown.”
“Good.” Cheyenne gently nudged Ember’s shoulder. “Taken care of, right?”
“As long as he follows through. Sure.”
“Cool.” Cheyenne met Persh’al’s gaze and nodded. He nodded in return before grabbing his burger again and stuffing what was left of it into his mouth all at once. Guess it pays to have a blue troll around for breaking up heated discussions. Good to know.
“Here.” L’zar whisked a napkin off the table and offered it to Venga. “You’re dripping.”
The necromancer grunted and took the napkin before roughly wiping his mouth and chin.
“You know, when all this is over and done with, I would very much like to hear about your work.”
Cheyenne tuned out her father’s voice and pulled her buzzing phone out of her pocket. “Great.”
Ember turned to her and glanced at the screen. “What?”
“It’s Sir.” Cheyenne grabbed her bottle of water off the table and stood. “I gotta take this. Be right back.”
As she headed to the restaurant’s door, she heard Byrd sniggering behind her. “Super-private conversation, huh?”
“More like she doesn’t want the whole restaurant to hear the guy screaming at her,” Ember replied.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Cheyenne pushed open the door and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Ember’s got it down.
Then she accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear. “That was fast.”
“Which goddamn part, halfling? You taking after your lunatic sperm donor of a dad and breaking felons out of Chateau D’rahl, or me smelling the stink of your halfling bullshit all the way from here?”
“Actually, I was expecting a call from you about Colonel Thomas.”
“Fuck Colonel Thomas! What kinda fucking joke were you trying to play, leaving those assholes behind?”
Frowning, Cheyenne stepped away from the front door and turned around to look at the other magicals through the window. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that shit. I talked to four goddamn guards at that prison who all said they saw you in there two hours ago.”
“Well, yeah, Guy. I’m pretty easy to remember when I walk into a room. Or a prison.”
Sir growled on the other end of the line, followed by a clang of something heavy smashing against the wall. “I don’t know how the hell you did it, but I know you didn’t do it alone. You better have a coherent explanation for why a dozen beat-up, bloody, shit-covered magicals that aren’t in our records are sitting at the bottom of the dunk tank where Vinny used to be in chains.”
“Vinny?”
“The fucking giant lizard with four arms, Cheyenne!”
She forced back a laugh and pulled the phone slightly away from her ear. “Right. You’re not gonna like it, but I don’t have an explanation.”
“I swear on every single strand of hair growing from—”
“Your wife’s head? You know, I’m not sure Alice would appreciate being the center of so much swearing, Guy.”
“Shut the hell up. Who are the goddamn dipshits in that tank, halfling?”
Cheyenne looked at Corian through the window, and he met her gaze. “Trust me, they’re all the kind of criminals you want in that prison.”
“Criminals.”
“Yeah. And I bet they’re really good friends with the same assholes who kidnapped all those kids. You’re welcome. Now tell me you have something useful to say while you have me on the phone.”
“Shit.” Sir grunted, and the clink of ice swirling in a glass came over the line. “I’d rather eat my Aunt Bertha’s two-week-old meatloaf than tell you this.”
“But I’m right about the colonel,” Cheyenne muttered, a small smile blooming on her lips.
“I thi
nk you might be onto something, halfling. Might be. Don’t get the two confused.”
“What did you find?”
“It’s what found me.” Sir took a long sip of what she could only assume was his early-afternoon whiskey. “As soon as I heard about our second escaped convict in the last two weeks, both of which I’m pinning on your halfling ass, by the way, I got a call from Colonel Thomas. He wants to talk to you. In person.”
Cheyenne turned away from the restaurant to stare across the street. “No shit.”
“No shit.” Sir growled something unintelligible into the phone and knocked back his drink with a loud gulp. “The meeting’s been scheduled for seven o’clock tonight on base. You better believe he’ll be grinding your ass into the floor to figure out what you know about this goddamn prisoner escape. Maybe I’ll get in line.”
“Honestly, you’ll probably be waiting a while.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Cheyenne. And don’t conveniently forget to tell me whatever the hell you find out at this little meeting, you hear me? If you find anything that proves your theory, I sure as shit better hear about it.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“Promise me, halfling.”
“Hey, I’m not making any promises ‘til after I get a good look at the guy.” Great. And now I sound like Venga.
“Well, make sure you bring your goddamn glasses, then!” With a roar of frustration, Sir slammed the phone down, and the line went dead.
Cheyenne stared at her cell. Colonel Thomas works fast too, apparently. So now he gets to try to figure out how much I know, and I get to prove he’s a traitor asshole who’s been selling me out to the Bull’s Head the whole damn time.
The glass door to the burger joint opened, and Corian led the procession of human-disguised magicals out to the sidewalk to join her. “How did that conversation go?”
She stuck her phone back into her pocket and folded her arms. “Peachy. How many Crown loyalists did you port into that giant tank to leave as a parting gift?”
The nightstalker shrugged. “All of them.”
“All the magicals you guys tortured and locked up in the warehouse basement?”
He leaned in and whispered, “Yes, Cheyenne. All of them. I wanted them off my hands.”
“Well, you picked the right way to do it. Better than sending them blind and deaf across the Border or dead.”
“We both know I don’t need your approval for these types of decisions, kid.”
She scoffed. “Obviously.”
He held the door open for the rest of their group and nodded. “But I’m glad I have it.”
“Yeah, okay.” Shaking her head, Cheyenne nodded at Ember floating out of the restaurant, and her smile faded. “You okay, Em?”
“Me? Sure.” The fae shrugged. “I’m not a huge fan of walking around outside DC with our new death-magic friend, but whatever.”
“Well, if it helps at all, I think it’s awesome.”
Ember shot her a confused look. “What’s awesome?”
“That you jumped into this thing with both feet. That you were about to start threatening the magical who engineered the blight so he’d promise to clean up his mess. Your Healer’s showing, Em.”
“Very funny.” Ember floated past her but couldn’t completely hide her smile. “So, how did that conversation go?”
“With Sir?” Cheyenne shrugged. “Well, it got me a meeting with the colonel, so I’d say overall, it was fairly productive.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Gotta be on base at seven tonight. I was asked for by name, apparently.”
Maleshi joined them on the other side of Cheyenne. “Anything you need from us before that happens?”
“You mean besides nobody else getting broken out of jail or sucked into curses or exiled from places where it would really be useful to have them around?” The halfling snorted. “I don’t think so, but thanks.”
“All right, kid. Well, when you know what needs to happen next, make sure you tell somebody. I hope it goes without saying, but none of us want you heading after the rest of the Bull’s Head on your own.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not that reckless.” Cheyenne pursed her lips when Maleshi and Ember gave her skeptical looks. “Anymore. Okay, yeah. I promise I won’t go after them on my own.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.” The general clapped a hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder and gave the halfling a little shake. “’Cause I’m really looking forward to taking down as many of them as I can before it’s time to go border-hopping again.”
“Yeah, me too. And while we’re on that topic, I should get back to the apartment. Set up a few fun things to get ready for this meeting, you know?”
“Sure.” Maleshi gazed at L’zar and Venga, who were talking and laughing like Ba’rael Verdys’ betrayals and the time served in Chateau D’rahl had never happened. “I’ll fill everyone in later. Might as well make a clean break while you can.” The general stopped in front of a narrow alley between storefronts and summoned a portal into Cheyenne and Ember’s apartment. “Good luck with the colonel, kid.”
“Well, the chance that I’ll have to fight the guy is lookin’ pretty slim, but thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Maleshi turned away from the portal as Cheyenne and Ember moved through it and disappeared.
* * *
Cheyenne headed for the iron stairs up to the mini-loft.
Ember hovered behind the couch and watched her friend practically run up the steps. “You obviously already have a plan for this.”
“Yep.” With a quick punch of the power button, Cheyenne got Glen cycling up to full processing speed and dropped into the desk chair. “If I can find a few golden nuggets of traitor bullshit in the next few hours, I’ll at least have a bargaining chip or two.”
Ember floated around the couch and sprawled on the cushions. “There’s a visual.”
“Exactly what I’m hoping for, Em.” Cheyenne pulled out her activator and placed it behind her ear before vigorously rubbing her hands together. “I’m so ready to make this asshole squirm.”
Ember grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and the flat-screen TV rose out of the entry table with a soft hum. “However you end up doing it, you have my full support.”
“Thanks, Em.” Wish I could say I’ll be getting rid of Colonel Thomas tonight, but I have a feeling this is a practice run. The guy should’ve taken pointers from Sir. I don’t screw around.
Chapter Eighty
The activator guided her every step of the way as she searched the dark web for as much information on Colonel Les Thomas as she could find. What better place to hide his slimy friendship with O’gúl loyalists, assuming the man’s more tech-literate than Sir. Cheyenne chuckled. Not very hard.
Once the activator located Colonel Thomas’ personal drive on the FRoE’s multiple servers, she stopped to consider what she was about to do. Somebody should tell them they have a gaping hole in their firewall, but it’s not gonna be me.
She dove into the server and pulled up the IP address and physical location of Colonel Thomas’ operating system. Yep. Right there at the base.
His system hadn’t been used for the last hour, so she poked around in his files to see what she could dig up. The activator lit up in her vision with a flashing yellow light superimposed over the scrolling window of code across a folder labeled Friends of the Bull.
“Very cute, Colonel.” Cheyenne clicked the file open and was met by three more folders inside, each of them heavily encrypted, but she couldn’t focus on reading the folder names or the quickly moving code illuminating the encryption data. The activator let off an annoyingly persistent alarm in her head, not terribly loud but not quiet enough to ignore. As if that wasn’t enough, bright red letters flashed across her screen.
Unauthorized access detected. Do not proceed.
“Okay, okay.” Cheyenne grimaced and waved her hand in front of her to turn off the activat
or’s ridiculous alarm signal. “Jeez.”
“Find something?” Ember asked.
“Just a warning from the activator to—”
A hard, fierce knock came at the front door.
Cheyenne pulled out of Colonel Thomas’ desktop system, turned off her monitor, and stood. “We’re not expecting anybody, right?”
“Not unless you planned some kinda surprise.” Ember sniggered and stared at the TV. “Which honestly wouldn’t be that big a surprise if you think about it.”
“I didn’t.” Cheyenne was hurrying down the metal stairs when whoever stood outside their apartment knocked harder and louder. “Whoever it is needs to chill the hell out.”
She slipped out of drow form when she reached the front door, slid the deadbolt lock aside, and slowly opened the door to peer into the hall.
“Cheyenne.”
Cheyenne narrowed her eyes. “Matthew.”
“What are you doing?”
“Hmm. Well, I was minding my own business, but now I’m curious why you look like someone found out all your secrets and laid them on the table for the whole world to see.”
Their neighbor took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply through his nose. “If you’re still pissed at me, I get it. But this is serious.”
“It is, huh?” She cocked her head and gave him a fake smile. “What happened?”
Matthew tried to peer around her into the apartment, but she pulled the door toward her to block his view and only opened it again when he gave up. “I got a security alert on my phone, Cheyenne. Someone tried to hack into my uncle’s computer.”
Oops. Cheyenne raised an eyebrow. “They must not have been very good.”
“I built that security system, okay? I know how efficient it is.” Matthew grimaced and stared at the door instead of meeting her gaze. “And it traced the user’s IP address right back here.”
“No way.” Cheyenne’s eyes widened, and she decided to pile on the exaggerated surprise. If he could prove it one hundred percent, he would’ve kicked me out of the FRoE server. All he has is a general location and a hunch that I’m the only person in this building who knows how to get into tight spaces. “That’s confusing.”