by Martha Carr
She shot him a sarcastic glare. “But it’s a knee-jerk reaction, I guess. I can’t bring it up on command. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Well, it’s a start, I guess.” Cocking his head, the Nightstalker looked down at the thick silver ring on his thumb, which had a thick raised circle welded to the band. “Good thing you found me before you killed yourself trying to use the black flames if you ever managed to conjure them again.”
“You can’t kill yourself with your own magic.” The halfling blinked. “Can you?”
“The list of what one can do with their magic is long. Maybe even endless, once you’ve mastered the abilities you were born to manifest. But trying to use a certain power without being fully prepared for it, without knowing what it might do or how much it might take out of you? Don’t tell me you’ve never pushed your magic too hard and worn yourself out.”
“Once or twice.” At drow speed.
“Well, then. Take that experience and multiply it by a thousand. Chances are the answer to the equation is death. Most of the time.” Corian pressed down on the top of the metal circle in his ring, and a thin lid flipped open to reveal a ridiculously tiny compartment. He removed something just as tiny, closed the silver lid again, and offered it to the halfling in his open palm. “Here.”
Cheyenne stared at the glowing purple bead, which was a little bigger than a grain of rice. “What is it?”
“A seed from the Nimlothar.” When she gave him another blank look, he frowned and stared down at the seed. “I keep forgetting you don’t know anything.”
“Okay, wait a minute—”
“About this, Cheyenne. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe I’m the first and only person so far, magical or otherwise, to give you anywhere near this much information about your drow heritage or your legacy or who you are. Right?”
The halfling nodded once. “Pretty much.”
“So, don’t take it personally when I say you don’t know anything. Anyone who’s insulted by the truth isn’t ready for it. The Nimlothar is an O’gúleesh tree that used to grow…oh, just about everywhere, as I remember it.” Corian blinked down at the seed, sounding sentimental beneath his curt instruction. “The life energy of the Nimlothar is more directly linked to drow magic than any other. Don’t ask me why. That’s just the way it’s always been.”
“And they don’t grow there anymore.” When the Nightstalker just closed his eyes, Cheyenne had to keep pressing. “What happened?”
“They were cut down. Plenty of drow in Ambar’ogúl still going through their legacy trials and using a Nimlothar seed, but it’s regulated now.”
She snorted. “I have a hard time picturing anyone who’d want to regulate a bunch of drow mastering their magic while they try not to blow everything up.”
Corian’s lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. “Yes, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine much of anything from that world when you’ve never stepped foot across the Border and only just discovered its name.”
“Hey, at least I’m trying.” The halfling folded her arms, and Corian closed his fist around the glowing purple seed before dropping his hand back down by his side.
“The order to raze whole forests of Nimlothar came straight from the O’gúl Crown a few hundred years ago. That’s who’d want to regulate and oversee the drow legacy trials. They still happen, of course, but I’ve heard the drow in Ambar’ogúl have a much harder time controlling their magic with the Crown breathing down their neck. There’s very little room for inherent mastery when a monarch tells you when and how to do what can only be commanded from here.” He knocked his closed fist against his chest right over his heart. “The only remaining Nimlothar I know of grows in the courtyard at the center of the O’gúl Crown’s great hall. Not the kind of place you wanna find yourself in these days.”
“And you just waltzed in there to take a seed from the last drow tree?” Cheyenne cocked her head. “For me?”
“What? I’ve only crossed the Border once, Cheyenne, and I don’t know when or if I’ll be going back. I took this seed with me when I left. And yes, I’ve been saving it for you this whole time.”
She studied the Nightstalker’s impassive expression, then dropped her gaze to his fist. He came Earthside before I was born. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m here to help you with your magic, not to talk about my personal timeline. Maybe another day.”
“Okay…”
Corian stretched his fist toward her again, opened his hand, and nodded at the seed. “Go ahead.”
A little zap of tingling energy shot through the halfling’s fingers when she plucked the glowing Nimlothar seed from his palm. Like my fingers fell asleep.
The Nightstalker’s flashing silver eyes moved from the seed to Cheyenne’s face and back again. “Down the hatch.”
She snorted. “Sorry. I thought I just heard you tell me to swallow this thing.”
“We both know there’s nothing wrong with your hearing.”
Blinking around the meadow in disbelief, the halfling let out a dry, sharp laugh. “I’m not about to eat some magical seed from the other side of the Border just because you say so. If that’s even what this is. And you can’t be sure it’ll do what it’s supposed to do on this side.”
“This is how it’s done in Ambar’ogúl, kid, and a drow legacy doesn’t care what world you’re on. Obviously, it found you here. Eat the seed.”
Scowling at the tiny glowing thing between her fingers, the halfling mumbled, “If I get some kinda O’gúleesh food poisoning—”
“I brought us through a portal, Cheyenne. Not into a time loop. Don’t waste it.”
She gazed at the stars in the black sky and slowly opened her mouth. The seed didn’t taste like anything, warm from her hand before she dry-swallowed it with a grimace. The next second, a much stronger tingle bloomed in her stomach. She swallowed again and hunched forward, her eyes watering. Don’t puke.
The tingling energy bloomed through her, shooting down her limbs and through her chest and all the way to the tips of her ears. Cheyenne lifted her hand to try rubbing the odd sensation out of one ear and felt the sharp, cartilage-hardened point beneath her fingers. She jerked her hand down and saw purple-gray flesh instead of pale skin glowing in the moonlight. “What the…”
“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to happen.”
“Pretty sure?” She stared at Corian with wide eyes. “I thought this was supposed to help me control my magic, not shove me aside so a stupid seed can take the wheel.”
“I’ve never seen a halfling go through the trials, and obviously, the drow I have seen don’t have a second form to take.” The Nightstalker spread his arms. “But with a boost from an ancient Nimlothar tied directly to the power flowing through your veins, kid, why are you this surprised?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Cheyenne closed her eyes and reached out with her awareness toward the woods encircling the meadow. Better than a memory. This better work.
When she opened her eyes, she let out a relieved sigh and turned her human-white hand back and forth, just to be sure. Then she let the heat of her drow magic take over again and slipped into her drow form. She thought she’d gotten a handle on it before, but it was a hell of a lot easier this time. With a nod at Corian, the halfling shook out her hands one more time and bounced on her toes. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Any more tests you wanna run before we get started?” Corian’s feline face wrinkled in disapproval. His silver eyes glinted in the moonlight as he looked the drow halfling up and down.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great. Close your eyes again.”
She did, letting a slow breath hiss through her tight lips as the tingling from the seed in her stomach grew stronger again.
“We’ll start with the shield. See it in your mind’s eye. Remember what you felt right before you summoned it. If you can, remember what you felt when you saw its shape appea
ring right where you wanted it to be. Then hold onto that and focus on lifting the shield around yourself first.”
“You’re not gonna start attacking me, are you?” she muttered through a tiny smirk.
“Just pull up the shield, Cheyenne.”
With another deep breath, the half-drow tried to ignore the tingle in her belly that was quickly growing into full-on indigestion. Forget the seed. You need a shield.
Her fingertips tingled again, sharp pieces of it shooting up her arms like an electrical current. The burn rose from her stomach to her throat this time, searing its way up and out of her in a giant belch that rolled across the meadow. Cheyenne’s eyes flew open just in time to see the purple, glittering light bursting from her gaping mouth. Her hands only made it halfway to her lips before the light and the belch disappeared, and she froze.
Corian stepped back and covered his laugh with a quick cough. “Haven’t seen that before.”
“You’re not helping.”
“And you’re not trying. You ate something from another world, only half of you is equipped to handle it, and then you burped.” The Nightstalker cleared his throat, his fur-tipped ears twitching as he wiped the smile off his lips with his hand. Then he folded his arms. “Back to the shield.”
She glared at him, then closed her eyes and started all over again. Her body still hummed with all the extra energy from the Nimlothar seed, but it had settled down into something much more manageable. Maybe Peridosh has some magical Pepto-Bismol…
“Remember how it felt to use it, kid. Remember how you felt to see it done. Bring that into this right now.”
Corian’s words were suddenly the only thing she could hear as her mind flew through the memories of only two, maybe three times she’d conjured the black, shimmering shield of drow magic. I don’t need to be hypnotized.
She only noticed there had been a small, gentle breeze rolling across the meadow and ruffling her bone-white hair when it suddenly stopped. Cheyenne slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring at the Nightstalker’s distorted outline, his features, the meadow, and woods around them muted by a dark light shimmering in front of her. Blinking, the halfling leaned back and flicked the wall of black energy she’d conjured right in front of her face. A dull, metallic ping echoed off the drow shield. “I did it.”
“There’s a first for everything.” With his arms still folded, Corian took a step back and nodded. “Now get rid of it.”
“Ha!” She slapped the shield one more time, and it gave a much louder, thicker clang. Yeah, that’s real. “All right. Level one accessed.”
When she tossed her hand like she was brushing crumbs off a table, the shield disappeared like a thin wisp of black smoke.
Corian grunted. “Looks like dropping your spells is the easiest part for you, huh?”
“I’ve had a lifetime of trying to shove it all back down where no one can see. So, yeah. That part feels pretty natural.”
“People usually don’t pay much attention to that side of the coin. They’re a lot more focused on how to make an impression with all kinds of flashy abilities.” The Nightstalker stroked his chin and gave her another appraising look from head to toe.
“You can make an impression by doing the exact opposite, too.” Another of Mom’s lessons.
“Indeed. How confident are you with using the magic you think you’ve already mastered?” Slowly, Corian moved without a sound across the grass in a wide circle around the drow halfling. “In a fight, I mean. When you’re caught up in the heat of battle and have to think on your feet.”
“Pretty confident.” Cheyenne followed him with her eyes until he’d circled out of her view. But she felt him behind her, moving slowly around toward her other side. And I can hear those footsteps. When they stopped, the halfling summoned an orb of crackling black energy and held it there at her side.
The Nightstalker started walking again, and then he reappeared in her peripheral vision, his hands clasped behind his back. “Good to hear. I think it’s to your advantage that the ability you’re working on now is what it is. Defensive magic is just as important.”
“Not if I’m faster than the other guy.”
“You might have been so far.” Corian just kept walking in the slow circle, staring at the grass as he passed in front of her one more time. “But it won’t always be the case.”
“Okay, show me one—”
The Nightstalker’s hand shot out so quickly, she didn’t see him move—just the silver streak of light hurtling toward her before it crashed into her shoulder and spun her sideways.
“Hey! I just got that healed.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” He shot another bolt of lightning-like magic toward her chest this time.
Cheyenne activated her drow speed and stepped to the side as the Nightstalker’s spell crackled past her, reaching out with wavering branches of light pretty much just like lightning. Then she dropped back into normal speed and spread her arms. Shadows danced behind her as Corian’s attack flew across the meadow into the darkness on the other side. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna start attacking me?”
“No, I told you to focus on your shield,” he snarled. “You need to listen.”
Two more bolts of silver light pierced the air between them.
The halfling moved with enhanced speed one more time to avoid them both, and Corian laughed. She whipped her head toward him as his magical attack moved in slow motion past her.
He just spread his arms and shot her a crooked smile, his elongated teeth flashing like fangs in the moonlight. “See? You’re not always faster than the other guy.”
Shit.
Chapter Fifteen
The Nightstalker’s next crackling silver attack hurtled toward Cheyenne before the last two he’d thrown had fully passed her in their suspended motion. She tried to duck out of the way and hurl her sphere of black energy at Corian’s face, but she wasn’t fast enough. The lightning bolt caught her in the left shoulder this time and sent her spinning. The halfling shouted in pain and frustration as her knees hit the cold, damp grass. It knocked her out of her drow speed, the two silver attacks she’d dodged whizzed behind her into the woods, and the Nightstalker’s low laughter rang out again.
She jerked her head up to glare at him and rubbed her burning shoulder. Corian’s sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight as he prowled back and forth in front of her, chuckling. With his head ducked low like that and his fur-tufted ears twitching above silver eyes, he looked a lot less like a man and way more like a wild animal. Like he wants to eat me.
With a grunt, Cheyenne pushed to her feet. “That’s not fair.”
“Who’s gonna fight fair, Cheyenne?” His voice burst across the meadow as he spread his hands. “This is how you learn. This is how you seize your—”
She hurled another black sphere of churning magic at his head, followed by a second. The Nightstalker jerked his head to the side and avoided the first completely. The second he caught in his outstretched hand with his magic. Purple and black light lit up his face, the fur on his cheeks and temples ruffling in the breeze. Then he pressed his other hand against her spell and shrank the black-and-purple orb until it disappeared between his clasped palms.
“You’re not listening, and you’re not staying on task.” He tossed a small object toward her, which glinted under the stars before she snatched it out of the air.
Cheyenne scowled at the four-pointed metal star, then chucked it into the grass. Nightstalker trick. Not just Mattie’s.
“I told you to focus on your shield. Bring it up when you run out of options, or I’ll end up dragging deep-fried drow halfling back through the portal when we’re finished.”
Cheyenne snarled and dropped into a defensive crouch, clenching her fists. “Fine.”
“Fine.” Corian grinned and threw another silver bolt right at her.
She burst into drow speed to leap out of the way and was ready for him to join her there. The black tendrils
shot from her outstretched hand and lashed out at the Nightstalker’s face before coiling around his wrist and forearm. She didn’t have the chance to jerk his hand aside. He beat her to it and spun away from her, yanking on her drow whips with his forearm and ripping her off her feet through the plane of enhanced speed.
As she lurched through the air, Cheyenne threw out her hand. Pull up the damn shield! Nothing happened, and one more Nightstalker lightning bolt burst across her right hip and the freshly healed bullet wound. Her scream cut off as she crashed and slid across the grass, but she twisted around and summoned another black sphere of magic to toss at Corian’s head. He jerked her toward him again, with her lashing black tendrils still coiled around his forearm. The halfling’s spell went wild, arcing up toward the night sky instead, and before she could lift her hand again, another silver streak slammed into her chest.
It knocked the air out of her lungs. The black tendrils wilted and dropped from around the Nightstalker’s arm before withdrawing into her fingertips. Her next breath seared into her lungs, and she coughed, gasping for another.
“Get up,” Corian growled. “Walk it off.”
Easy for him to say.
With a growl of her own, Cheyenne pushed to her feet, her chest heaving. They circled each other on the dew-studded grass, silver eyes locked onto gold. This time, when Corian unleashed another bolt of silver, she raised her hand fast enough and locked onto something—another sharp burst of heat beneath her skin, a tightness in the air. Shimmering black light bloomed in front of her. Only half-formed, the shield was large enough to deflect the silver lightning crashing against it and rang like a gong struck over a radio full of static.
Then the ground lit up beneath her feet, and Cheyenne’s eyes widened.
Silver light snaked toward her faster than she could react. In less than a second, the Nightstalker’s magic crackling across the ground struck her feet and shot up her calves, blasting her backward across the air. A shield!
