by Martha Carr
“Mattie.”
Bergmann cocked her head. “Matilda’s a name better suited for a cat lady. Or a crone sitting around playing knucklebones with her—” The woman stopped when she noticed Cheyenne’s disbelieving frown and waved her last thought aside. “Never mind. Just Mattie.”
“Sure.”
“And take a seat.”
Cheyenne pressed her lips together and lowered herself into the narrow chair across from her professor. “Ready when you are. Mattie.”
“Perfect.” The woman grinned and relaxed. “Now, please tell me you weren’t serious about walking out.”
The only reply Cheyenne gave was a twitch of her head—it felt too heavy to shake any more—as she squinted and chewed the inside of her lip.
“Wow.” Mattie’s eyes widened, and there was that flash of light that wasn’t light again. “You’ve got me beat with course content, but I get to be the expert on you, huh? This’ll be fun.” She rubbed her hands together. “How much time do you have?”
“As much time as it takes,” Cheyenne muttered. “As long as what you tell me makes any kinda sense.”
“I like your attitude, kid. We’ll work on that too.”
Chapter Twelve
“You must help me out a little here, though.” Mattie leaned forward and winked. “I know you’re smart enough to figure out what the word halfling might mean.”
“Half-human.” Cheyenne glanced at her hands, then peered at the wall behind Mattie’s armchair. “Half something else.”
“And in your case, that something else would be?”
When Cheyenne still wasn’t forthcoming with the information her professor wanted, the older woman rolled her eyes. “This is a give and take kinda thing, Cheyenne. I need to gauge how much you understand before I spout a bunch of information you may or may not be ready to hear. So what is it? Half-human and half…”
“Drow. I think.” Cheyenne cleared her throat.
“Thank you. Drow. That’s an old word for an even older race. Do you know what it means?”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Some kind of elf.”
“Some kind… Are you not going to take this seriously?”
“Not when it feels like you’re trying to drag me around in circles.” The half-drow’s nose wrinkled, and the chains on her wrists jingled when she reached up to scratch the back of her neck. “I’m waiting to see if coming to you was a good idea.”
“When you know nothing and someone who knows about magic comes along and says they can help you, it’s a good idea to take advantage of the offer. Unless they’re trying to sell you someone else’s organs.”
“What?”
Mattie shook her head. “Let’s table that for later. The drow aren’t just any kind of elf.”
“Yeah, I know. Dark elf, which is why my skin changes color, and my hair goes all freaky white, and I can’t control myself. Next.”
The professor pursed her lips. “And you first heard the term ‘halfling’ yesterday, huh?”
Cheyenne propped her arms on the armrests and shook her head. “It’s not like I grew up clueless about what makes me different. When I couldn’t figure it out by myself, my mom…” She stopped and frowned. I need to stop talking.
“Your mom. Right. Well, it doesn’t surprise me Bianca Summerlin would know enough to give you at least a few pieces of the puzzle.”
“I don’t wanna talk about my mom.”
Mattie appeared puzzled. “Why not?”
“She’s not… She has nothing to do with this.”
More like she has no idea what I can do, and she doesn’t know how to use or handle or even recognize magic. Cheyenne pushed her tongue against the back of her teeth and forced herself not to get up out of that armchair.
“That’s a little simplistic, don’t you think?”
“No.” The half-drow shifted in her chair. “Beyond her giving birth to me, she has nothing to do with this. I don’t need you to explain to me where halfling babies come from.”
“Well, isn’t that a major relief?”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a small smile as she avoided Mattie’s gaze. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Me? No way.” Mattie smirked and shook her head. “So your mother told you what you are. Does she know who your dad is?”
“Nope. He has even less to do with this than she does.”
“I understand. It’s tough trying to make things work in a world most people don’t know exists.” The professor held up a finger when Cheyenne opened her mouth. “We can get to that later. I’m trying to get to the part about me giving you useful information.”
Cheyenne shut her mouth and huffed an airy chuckle.
“You put two and two together, Cheyenne. A halfling is half human and half something else; in your case, half-drow. Most people, magicals included, are shocked and certainly skeptical to see, hear, or even smell a halfling.”
Ember’s words at the bar the night before came trickling into Cheyenne’s head. “Because everyone thinks halflings are just a myth, right?”
“Listen to you. Well done.” Mattie shifted and crossed her legs in the opposite direction, then spread her arms. “There are plenty of documented magicals here.”
“In Richmond?”
“All over the world. That’s kept under wraps, for obvious reasons. But, in all the time I’ve spent on this side of the Border, you’re the first halfling who hasn’t been a myth. You’re very real. Or I’ve lost my mind. But the point is—”
“What Border?” Cheyenne leaned forward, thinking of the orc and the same thing he’d said at the skatepark. Her lower spine felt warm.
“That’s something we can get into later.”
“I heard someone else talking about a Border too. And a…portal.” Despite wanting to tread carefully, Cheyenne couldn’t keep her voice from rising in volume. “What is it?”
“Cheyenne, we need to ease into this.”
“We don’t need to do anything. You said you could help me, and I want to know what—”
“Enough!” Mattie slammed her fist on the armrest, and a crackle of silver light erupted across the fabric.
Cheyenne’s skin tingled. She stopped asking questions and stared at her professor’s fist.
Mattie blinked, took a breath, and dipped her head. “I’m sorry. I’m realizing I didn’t start this off the way I should have. So, you won’t like the next thing out of my mouth, Cheyenne, but it must be said. After that, it’s up to you whether you want what I’m offering.”
“I’m all e—” The half-drow stopped and grimaced at the saying. She sat back in the chair.
“All ears.” Mattie chuckled. “The irony’s not lost on me, either. You ready to listen?”
Cheyenne gestured with a sarcastic flair toward her professor. The chains on her wrists jingled against each other. “I’m still here. Let’s do this.”
Mattie studied her student with a predatory glint in her eye. She didn’t seem fazed by Cheyenne’s sarcasm or her impatient scowl. “Fantastic. You have questions. How could you not? Bear in mind, anything that doesn’t apply to you personally, Cheyenne, I can’t answer. Whatever you thought you heard someone else say, leave it alone for now. I’m not the person to answer those kinds of questions, and even if I were, I wouldn’t consider it until I knew you had a handle on your drow abilities and everything that makes you…well, you. The only thing I can teach you is how to control your magic. At least, to the best of my knowledge and your willingness to follow someone else’s lead.”
Cheyenne blinked. “To the best of your knowledge?”
“Yep.”
“Do I have to ask how many other drow you’ve taught?”
Mattie glanced at the ceiling in amusement. “’Trained’ has a better ring to it, yeah? And no, you don’t have to ask. I’ll tell you. I’ve met only a handful of drow in my lifetime, and I trained none of them. Beyond that, you’re the first halfling I’ve ever seen in the flesh. Of either colo
r. So this is the perfect opportunity for us both.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.” Cocking her head, Cheyenne tried to wipe the smile of disbelief off her face, but it wouldn’t budge. “Taking advice from someone who’s never trained a drow or a halfling doesn’t sound like my best option.”
“How so?”
“Huh. I don’t know. Maybe just the insignificant fact neither of us knows what we’re doing.” The half-drow offered an exaggerated shrug, her arms spread wide over the armrests. “And you’re not making a strong case.”
“Hmm.” Stroking her chin again, Mattie feigned consideration and nodded. She stared past Cheyenne’s armchair at the blank wall of her office. “You want a strong case? Well, I worked with hundreds of orcs before I came through. Hundreds. So, training you should be a piece of cake.”
Cheyenne leaned over her lap, casting her professor a sidelong glance as if she might have heard her wrong. “You did what now?”
“Orcs. And, new rule, we never bring that up again after today.”
A huff of surprise escaped the half-drow. “What are the old rules?”
Mattie tossed a dismissive hand in the air. “There aren’t any. I’m making this up as I go.”
“And I’m not an orc!”
“Neither am I. Didn’t stop me from being the best damn…well, from doing my job.”
Cheyenne shook her head and stared at her programming professor. “Show me.”
“That’s what I was waiting to hear.” Mattie grinned. “I’m glad your decision—”
“I’ve not decided. Not yet.” The half-drow squinted at the other woman and looked her up and down from the top of Mattie’s wavy black hair to her neon-yellow Chucks. “Show me why you’re so sure you can do this.”
Mattie’s eyes narrowed. She stiffened. “Oh, I can do this. Trust me.”
“Prove it. “
Professor Bergmann didn’t break Cheyenne’s gaze, even when the woman’s fingers bent and curled in her lap in a complicated pattern. The air around Mattie’s body shimmered, then she changed—same height, same dark hair, same hazel eyes, only backlit by a soft golden light now, the pupils widened and elongated into something inhuman. Like cat eyes. Her lips parted in a feral smile and revealed sharp white teeth. Cheyenne expected a few whiskers to sprout beside that smile. Mattie’s flattened nose twitched.
“What are you?” Cheyenne whispered.
“What I’ve always been.” Mattie’s voice was lower, smoother, and filled with amusement. “And that’s none of your business. You’re not here to learn about me or how I do what I do. Everything you need to know about harnessing your magic and making it do what you want, I can and will show you. Believe me, Cheyenne, I haven’t survived this long by mere luck. And, as far as I can tell, luck is the only thing on your side right now.”
Cheyenne studied her professor’s feline appearance. If I had luck on my side, I wouldn’t have missed that stupid orc last night. I would’ve made him pay, and I would’ve kept Ember out of the hospital.
“Luck runs out,” Mattie added. “Unless you learn how to make your own.” Her hands moved together in an even quicker pattern. She pulled them apart, and the human guise of Professor Bergmann returned.
“That’s what you’re calling it?” Cheyenne smirked. “Making your own luck?”
“Some people think that’s what magic is. I can show you so much more. This is just an illusion for me.” Mattie gestured toward her face. “Like wearing a piece of jewelry without ever taking it off. And it’s served me well. You, though? Using makeup and nose rings and this whole getup,” she eyed Cheyenne’s black shirt with the safety pins studded around the collar, “to hide what you are. I’m guessing that doesn’t work during intense situations.”
“You could say that.” Cheyenne rubbed the corner of her eye and fought back a wry laugh. “So, let’s begin with you showing me how to do that whole illusion thing.”
“No.” Mattie folded her hands in her lap again. “Halflings don’t need an illusion to hide in this world. You need control. Over yourself, your abilities, and your emotions. Without control, you’re a sparkler over gunpowder.”
Cheyenne snorted. “I don’t need a therapist.”
“I have enough students coming to me with their problems, trust me.” With a sigh, Mattie tipped her head back and peered at the ceiling. A dreamy smile grew on her lips. “You might just be the only one I can teach to get over them.”
The office fell silent. The professor didn’t move for long enough to make it feel like she’d forgotten about Cheyenne being there.
The half-drow cleared her throat. “So, when are we gonna do this?”
Mattie glanced at her wristwatch and shrugged. “Office hours, Cheyenne. Might as well do something useful with them.”
A flutter of excitement churned in Cheyenne’s stomach. She forced it down and pressed her lips together.
I’m about to start training with drow magic. For real.
“Yeah, now’s good.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Now is always the best time to do anything worthwhile.” Mattie slapped the armrests with a dull thump and pushed to her feet. “Get up.”
Cheyenne did as she was told, staring at the tie-dyed skirt whisking around her professor’s ankles as Mattie walked to the other side of her office. It’s gonna take a while not to see a cat in a skirt when I look at her.
“Come on. Show me what you got.” Mattie waved her student away from the armchairs into the center of her office.
“Show you what?” Cheyenne’s feet whispered across the decades-old carpet until Mattie lifted a hand to stop her.
“What you can do.” With a curt nod, Mattie eyed her student and gestured at the few feet of space between them. “We already made the mistake of assuming I could teach you anything in class, so let’s get on the same page. Show me what you’ve got a good handle on already.”
“Um.” Cheyenne blinked and shook out her hands. The chains clanked against each other, muted by her sleeves. “I mean, I can’t do what you just did.”
“Obviously.” Startled by her own short laugh, Mattie shook her head but didn’t stop smiling. “Go ahead.”
She thinks I can just pull this up on command? Cheyenne glanced at her open palms and shrugged. “Sure.”
She thought about the orc-thug party she’d crashed last night at the skatepark. About the magic she’d unleashed on all of them without even thinking. But standing here in her professor’s office didn’t bring a fresh new wave of inspiration. Sounds like she wants a trick. Just summon a light or something. Focusing on one hand, Cheyenne curled her fingers and tried to pull up the soft glow she’d used instead of a flashlight to light her forts as a kid, before she figured out computers were a lot more interesting than a tent made of blankets and chairs. Come on!
The blue glow pulsed for a second in the center of her palm. A long bulb in the light fixture overhead flared, then burst with a pop. Shattered glass rained onto the armchairs. Okay, screw that idea.
She lifted her head to look at Mattie and shrugged.
Professor Bergmann studied the glass on her furniture and floor with raised eyebrows, then tapped a finger on her lips. “Huh.”
“Hey, it’s something.”
“It is.” The corner of Mattie’s mouth twitched. “You can quit playing games now. That should be a new rule too. I know it’s hard to trust another magical you just met—officially, at least—so if it helps, I promise I have nothing to gain from this but satisfaction for not being completely useless to you.”
“Okay. That’s awesome, I guess.” Cheyenne glanced away to avoid seeing Mattie’s expression when she admitted, “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Mattie gave her an exaggerated laugh. “Oh, come on. Do whatever you think will give me enough of an overview that we can lay the missing groundwork. I won’t say you have to remove all the glass from the floor and my chairs, but it’d be a nice start.”
Th
e half-drow chewed the inside of her lower lip and raised an eyebrow. “Got a broom?”
“What?” The way Mattie cocked her head and turned away from her student seemed much like a cat listening to birds in the yard. “Please don’t tell me the drow halfling hasn’t learned how to cast a spell beyond a flash of light and an accidental lightbulb burst.”
“No problem.” Cheyenne folded her arms. “I can do more than that.”
“So?” The professor gestured toward the open space between them again with a tight, expectant smile. “I’m ready to drop the games.”
“Yeah, me too. But this whole magic-on-command thing isn’t my style.”
“Uh-huh.” By the time Mattie finished sighing, the predatory glint in her eyes had returned. “Okay, I get it. You’ve been doing things on your terms your whole life, and now I’m asking you to do them on mine. I don’t want to pressure you into anything. When you’re ready to come back and put some effort into learning how to control your magic, I’ll be here. Every day. From one to four.” She gestured toward her closed office door and dipped her head.
Oh, sure. It’s always attitude and willful disobedience from the Goth chick, isn’t it? Cheyenne rolled her eyes and didn’t move. “I’m ready to put in the effort now,” she muttered.
“It looks to me more like you’re trying to turn this into a powerplay, and that’s not what I’m interested in.” Mattie turned away from her and went back to her L-shaped desk. “I’m aware of where I stand in the scheme of things. And I have better things to do with my time than spend it on a halfling who pretends to be, I don’t know, whatever the hell you’re going for right now.”
The warmth at the base of Cheyenne’s spine was soft, but it stayed there, a gentle reminder of how far she couldn’t let this go. “Hold up. You’re the one who came to me.” She stepped toward Mattie’s desk. “You told me to come by your office. Trust me, I have better things to do with my time too, Mattie.”
Mattie didn’t look up at her as she shuffled through more papers on her desk. “Yes, I know you’re very busy with all the graduate work you complete in a quarter of the time it takes everyone else. It must be difficult for you to find time for anything.”