The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  “No, no!” Ba’rael staggered forward, one hand outstretched to stop her niece and the other tightly clutching at the bodice of her black robes. “I will hear your terns, Cheyenne. That is the least of it.”

  “Excellent.”

  Footsteps echoed through the courtyard, and the rest of the Four-Pointed Star emerged from the archways leading from the tunnels. Nu’ek, Foltr, Elarit, Sakrit…one by one, they lined up around Cheyenne and the other rebels, eager to watch the exchange and the turning of a new Cycle.

  Cheyenne took a deep breath. Didn’t realize how much better I’d feel with more magicals standing behind me than her. “So, here are my terms. You’ll step down as Crown. Obviously. And leave Hangivol. There’s no coming back for you after this. Ever.”

  Ba’rael blinked slowly.

  “When you leave, you take nothing from the Nimlothar with you. Not a leaf, not a twig, not even a scrap of bark. You’ll be on your own. Ruuv’i has a standing offer to peel himself away from you like a scab. He can stay here if he wants as part of my council.”

  The courtyard was quiet. Ba’rael stared at her niece, then burst out laughing. The sound rang through the courtyard. Cheyenne put her hands on her hips. Okay, the heartless bitch has a pretty laugh. We get it.

  “You can’t be serious.” Ba’rael composed herself and shook her head, chuckling softly. “That’s all? You’ve had nearly a week, and that is all the Weaver handed you to deliver to me?”

  “Almost.” Cheyenne reached into her pocket and pulled out the shrunken Darkglass with the metal star forged from Neros’ magic hovering at its center. The silver light in that four-pointed star pulsed brighter than ever. “I also have this. If you refuse my terms, Ba’rael, I will use it.”

  The Crown’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw clenched in fury. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  The drow’s eyelids fluttered closed as she tried to find words. “How did you find him?”

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Cheyenne shrugged and tucked the Darkglass back into her pocket. “What matters is that I’ve got a lifeline to him right here in my pocket. I know where to find him again if I have to. I mean, obviously, if you accept my terms and step down, I won’t ever have to—”

  “No.”

  The single word rang through the courtyard. Cheyenne cocked her head with a frown. “No?”

  “I do not accept your terms, Aranél.”

  Ruuv’i stepped toward the Crown with a hiss. “Ba’rael, this isn’t—”

  “I’m not playing games with you, Cheyenne.” The drow tossed her head and spread her arms. “You brought me your terms, and I reject them in favor of combat. If a new Cycle turns today, dearest niece, it will not be yours.”

  The halfling let out a shaky sigh. “I did not see that coming. Fuck.”

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  The Crown’s soldiers swarmed into the courtroom from all sides, grunting and snarling and banging their weapons against metal armor and what little metal existed within the Heart.

  Cheyenne spun to look at Corian and shook her head. “That didn’t work the way we wanted.”

  “She never planned to consider your terms.” The nightstalker’s gaze flicked to Ba’rael. “She just wants an audience. Cheyenne, I’m sorry this is what it’s come down to.”

  “What?”

  “You have to fight her.”

  “Are you fucking serious? Hey, in no way did I prepare for this!”

  “Not true, kid.” Maleshi gave the halfling a firm nod and a gentle smile. “You know what you’re doing. Just go do it.”

  “I can’t!”

  A powerful force knocked Cheyenne forward, and she spun around.

  Ba’rael laughed, her arm outstretched toward the halfling, that same crazed determination behind her golden eyes as Cheyenne had grown used to seeing in L’zar’s. “This will be fun.”

  “You pushed me.”

  “I’m merely waiting for the Aranél to begin.”

  Gritting her teeth, Cheyenne lunged and threw a sphere of crackling black energy at the Crown.

  Ba’rael swatted it aside with a black light of her own and chuckled. “Please tell me you’re offering more of a challenge than the last time we fought in front of this tree. I really was hoping for something a little more.”

  Cheyenne unleashed another energy orb, then another, and another. Each time, Ba’rael dodged her niece’s magic, deflected it, or ignored it.

  “Hmm. I think your fear’s affecting your aim.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” Cheyenne dipped her chin and glared at her aunt. “I’m just annoyed.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Snarling, Ba’rael lunged into enhanced speed and struck Cheyenne’s cheek before darting away again. The blow made the halfling reel back, flailing to catch her balance. Her jaw and cheek burned furiously. “See? I said it would be fun.”

  The Crown disappeared again in a blur of white and black. Cheyenne darted into drow speed to meet her, and Ba’rael sent a telekinetic wave hurtling against the halfling’s chest. Cheyenne grunted, skidded back across the cracked stone floor, and watched Ba’rael streak back across the courtyard before slapping her niece on the other cheek.

  Cheyenne glared at the darting blur, following Ba’rael with her gaze and moving nothing else. “Just fucking fight me already.”

  A screeching laugh erupted in the courtyard before Ba’rael charged into the halfling and threw Cheyenne back again. The halfling’s back slammed into the thick, rough bark of the Nimlothar. She felt a pain that didn’t belong entirely to her coursing through her body, and when she blinked away the dizziness, she saw three purple leaves flutter to the ground. They landed at her feet and pulsed weakly, like the tree’s final plea to cut out the heart and the rot and let it live.

  “Fine.” Cheyenne pushed off the tree and staggered forward, clenching her jaw against the pain in her back. “You wanna have fun, Ba’rael? I can make this fun.”

  “Oh, now you want to play, do you?”

  “No.” Cheyenne thought of the Nimlothar seed within her and the pulsing cries of purple light from the leaves behind her on the ground. Her eyes flashed purple, then erupted in black flames, and drow fire raced across her flesh. “Now I’m pissed.”

  Ba’rael’s eyes widened above an unsure smile, then Cheyenne unleashed a column of black fire at her aunt.

  The Crown darted away but wasn’t fast enough to avoid a blast of black fire against her shoulder. She spun sideways, cried out, glanced at the charred flesh through the hole in her robes, and snarled. Her hand lashed out with a burst of black lightning. Cheyenne lifted a shield and sent the attack hurtling up to the walkway around the courtyard. Then she stepped forward and launched another spray of lightless flames.

  “You think you have it in you to stand against me?” Ba’rael shrieked and sent two more bolts of black lightning at the halfling. Cheyenne deflected one with another shield, then caught the other with her lashing black tendrils and whipped it back at the Crown. Ba’rael ducked and screamed in fury. “You may have my brother’s blood, Aranél, but I have all of Ambar’ogúl.”

  “No, you don’t.” Cheyenne pounded her fists together, then drew them apart and sent black fire arcing around the courtyard to converge where Ba’rael stood. “You only have yourself.”

  Screaming, the Crown threw the flaming attacks aside with her own shield of howling wind and acrid smoke. The black fire snuffed out, then she charged Cheyenne again with another sizzling attack of black lightning.

  This time, Cheyenne reached out and plucked the magical bolt from the air, the black drow fire protecting her as Ba’rael’s magic buzzed and shuddered in her fist. She only has her own magic right now, not everything she stole. If I could punch L’zar in the face, I can take her down.

  The sight of her black lightning bolt clenched in Cheyenne’s fists snapped what was left of Ba’rael’s sanity. She screamed and threw her arms out to her sides, her mouth opening far wid
er than her jaw should have been able to manage. The courtyard shuddered. The Nimlothar tree swayed from side to side as if standing against a cyclone. Dust and chunks of rock fell from the domed ceiling all around them, then the Crown darted into enhanced speed once again and launched blazing purple darts at her niece at dangerously close range.

  Cheyenne tried to dodge the spikes but couldn’t move faster than she already was. She raised a shield, but Ba’rael tore it down and kept firing. Two of the purple spikes hit their target. One grazed the side of Cheyenne’s neck, instantly drawing blood, and the other pierced her chest beneath her shoulder.

  The halfling’s scream erupted through the courtyard as she dropped out of enhanced speed and fell to her knees. Black fire flickered along her body, racing up and down, but it did nothing to protect her from the purple dart of Ba’rael’s magic that had stuck her like a spearhead. Lifting a trembling hand, Cheyenne peeled her shirt away from the weapon in her flesh and groaned at the thin black lines snaking away from the dart and spreading quickly across her purple-gray skin.

  “Cheyenne!” Ember surged forward, but Corian darted in front of her and pushed her back.

  “You can’t get involved, Ember. I’m sorry.”

  “That bitch is gonna kill her!”

  “We don’t know that.” He wrapped his arms around the panicked fae girl and leaned in to mutter in her ear, “But I do know that if you step in to intervene, you won’t make it out of here alive. The old laws still stand, Ember. It won’t be me or Ba’rael or Cheyenne. Ambar’ogúl will kill you for getting involved.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “That’s the way this world works.”

  Swallowing thickly, Ember nodded and stopped fighting him. Corian sniffed, gently released her, and turned around again to watch a fight that looked like it was almost over.

  “This is why you will never be the Crown, Cheyenne. You’re too young.” Ba’rael sent a purple dart into her niece’s other shoulder. The halfling screamed again and tossed a stream of black fire at Ba’rael, but the drow woman ducked and kept advancing. “You’re too soft.” Her next purple spear struck Cheyenne’s right hip, right where her first bullet had struck her.

  Shrieking, the halfling lost what footing she’d regained and dropped to her knees again. Her hip screamed in pain. She could barely feel her shoulders anymore. Whatever those black lines were burned through her veins.

  Breathing heavily, her golden eyes ablaze with crazed victory, Ba’rael approached her wounded niece and loomed over Cheyenne like a hungry predator. “You are far too much like my failure of a brother, Cheyenne.”

  “No.” Cheyenne swallowed thickly and lifted her head, trying to keep herself from falling forward and slamming her face into the stone. “I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.”

  “Hmm.” Ba’rael grinned and clapped her hands together. When she drew them apart, a blazing circle of black light bloomed between her palms, spitting and hissing with drow magic and all the force Ba’rael could muster behind her final spell.

  Oh, fuck. This is it. We all knew I wouldn’t make it through this. At least I’m not laid out on the ground.

  “Pity your father isn’t here to see you burn like the rest of his spawn, but I’ll send him a message. In great detail, child. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Despite facing her end, Cheyenne found herself laughing. “Trust me, the last thing I’m worried about right now is that lunatic.”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, Ba’rael pulled her hands all the way apart and prepared to deliver the final blow.

  A massive crack rent the air, and the black stone wall at the end of the courtyard behind Ba’rael the Spider ripped open. A violent gust of wind swarmed through the Heart. Ba’rael turned around and staggered back, her mortal spell suspended in the air in front of her.

  White light filled the tear in the stone wall, then a warbling screech echoed across the stone courtyard. The thick flap of wingbeats followed, then a shimmering blue beast soared through the tear in space and entered the Heart of the Crown’s fortress.

  On the back of the glowing blue luré stood Neros, his white hair and robes whipping around his washed-out face and body. His eyes glowed blue with the pulsing light of the flying stingray beneath him.

  Ba’rael gasped and glanced at Cheyenne. Inside the halfling’s pocket, the Darkglass flared. The Crown looked back up at the pale-skinned drow and made the connection.

  “I have seen enough!” Neros shouted. His flying mount dove toward the drow women.

  Roaring in fury, Ba’rael turned away from Cheyenne and raised her trembling hands toward Neros. The crackling wall of black energy she’d summoned grew stronger as her son approached. His glowing blue eyes were focused on his mother.

  The lurè screeched again and pulled out of its dive as Neros leaped from the creature’s back and lunged toward Ba’rael. The Crown screamed and unleashed the attack that was meant to take her niece’s life, not her son’s.

  Neros threw his arms around the Crown, his burst of white magic colliding with hers. Neros, his lurè, and the screaming Ba’rael burst into millions of glittering lights. The Spider’s last vengeful scream still echoed within the stone walls. Tiny particles of what had once been two magicals locked in an embrace fluttered away on a soft breeze, disappearing like ash. Then there was nothing at all.

  Cheyenne stared at the empty space where they’d just been. Everything hurt. Everything was numb. She swallowed and tried to stand but only managed to get one foot squarely planted on the stone floor instead of both her knees. “What. The. Fuck?”

  “Oh, my God.” Ember raced toward her and bent over Cheyenne’s wounds. “You’re okay.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I can’t believe it, Cheyenne. You’re not fucking dead!”

  “I’m okay.”

  “This is probably gonna hurt.”

  “What…ah!”

  Ember ripped the first purple dart out of Cheyenne’s shoulder and tossed it aside. “Sorry. You’ve had worse, right?”

  “Sure, Em.” Cheyenne swayed where she knelt. “Loads worse. Ah, fuck!”

  The second dart clattered across the stone floor, shedding a thin trail of halfling blood behind it.

  “Now, this one in your hip.”

  Cheyenne snatched the girl’s wrist in one hand and jerked it away from her hip. “Touch that one, Ember, and I’ll throw you the fuck across this room.”

  “Whoa.” Ember glided back and raised her hands. “Noted. Don’t touch the hip.” She did, however, offer Cheyenne support to get to her feet. Then the halfling turned slowly around to watch every other magical in the Heart staring at her in stunned silence.

  Yep. Everyone thought I would die today.

  Maleshi stepped forward and cleared her throat, then turned to address the witnesses gathered in the courtyard. “Ba’rael Verdys, the Spider Crown of Ambar’ogúl, has met the final deathflame. The new Cycle has turned today. It moves for Cheyenne Summerlin. The Black Flame of Ambar’ogúl. The new Crown.”

  Ba’rael’s soldiers fell to their knees as one, their metal axes and swords and maces clinking against armor as they bowed their heads. One by one, the members of the Four-Pointed Star did the same. Some of them closed their eyes. Most had recovered from their shock and now grinned at Cheyenne, nodding and thumping their hands and feet against whatever metal was within reach.

  Byrd and Lumil shoved each other until they were both on their knees. Corian thumped a fist to his chest and knelt as well. Persh’al and Venga both did the same, until finally it was just Maleshi standing in front of Cheyenne and Ember.

  The general pressed her fist to her chest as well and held Cheyenne’s gaze. “May the Black Flame reign.”

  “May the Black Flame reign.” The echoing response rose from every mouth in the courtyard.

  Maleshi raised an eyebrow at Cheyenne as she lowered herself to one knee and nodded.

  “Okay, so we have two options here,”
Ember muttered.

  “What’s that?”

  “I can either bow like everyone else and drop you and we’ll all be on our knees, or I can keep holding you up like this so everyone thinks you can stand on your own.”

  “You know what, Em? I’m sure a Nós Aní is exempt from the whole ‘bowing to the new Crown’ rule.”

  “Okay, sure.” Ember nodded and tightened her hold on her friend. “We’ll just stand here, then.”

  “Yep.” Cheyenne grimaced and tried to ignore the pain flaring through her body. “I guess we have a little time to let it all sink in.”

  The fae snorted. “The Black Flame, huh?”

  “Shut up. You know it’s badass.”

  “For sure.” Turning to meet Cheyenne’s gaze, Ember grinned. “May the fucking Black Flame reign.”

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