Quote the Drow Nevermore

by Martha Carr

  The line of black FRoE vehicles looked exactly the same as the last time she’d walked down it. Better not get any needles in my back this time.

  Yurik stopped at one of the black Range Rovers and pulled open the driver-side door. “Okay, it’s in here somewhere. Oh. Yep!”

  He pulled a keyless fob out from under the floormat and turned toward the others, dangling it with a grin. “Ta-da.”

  “Nope. Uh-uh.” Bhandi lurched toward him and snatched the key fob out of his hand. “You drove the last two times, and I could’ve downed two pitchers of grog in the time you wasted getting us there.”

  “Hey, at least I got us there.” Yurik spread his arms and tipped forward in a little bow.

  Tate snorted. “But you drive like my grandma.”

  “Like Sir’s grandma,” Bhandi added. “Off her meds.”

  Cheyenne laughed. “He’s used that one on you too, huh?”

  “Pretty sure everyone’s heard about Sir’s grandma.” Shaking his head, Yurik stepped around the front of the Range Rover and opened the passenger-side door.

  Tate opened the door behind Bhandi and gestured inside. “Hop in, halfling.”

  Cheyenne didn’t have to be told twice. She climbed into the back seat behind Yurik as Bhandi started the car. Tate jumped in beside her and slammed the door.

  “Better buckle up,” Yurik muttered.

  “Oh, come on.” Bhandi laughed and shifted into drive. “I’m a good driver.”

  “Yeah, on a racetrack, maybe—woah!”

  The Range Rover squealed across the asphalt as they lurched forward in a fast, tight turn. Cheyenne grabbed the oh-shit handle again, nearly sliding across the seat into Tate, who’d braced himself against the door. The troll behind the wheel let out a maniacal laugh.

  “Told you.” Yurik grunted, and all three passengers quickly strapped on their seatbelts the minute Bhandi straightened out the car.

  They headed quickly toward the end of the parking lot and the two security booths on either side. “Where are we going?”

  “What?” Yurik turned to look at her. “We say we’re going out to Union Hill, and you have no idea what we’re talking about?”

  The halfling raised her eyebrows. “Correct.”

  Tate whistled. “Where the hell did Rhynehart dig you up?”

  “Nobody dug me up. I showed up.”

  “Uh-huh. But you don’t know what’s in Union Hill.” Yurik turned back around, shaking his head.

  “So, anyone gonna spill the beans, or are you guys gonna stick with keeping me in the dark too?”

  “Attitude,” Bhandi called out from the front. “I like it. Sir’s tight-lipped policy’s making you a little itchy, huh?”

  Tate barked out a laugh. “Yeah, jock itch.”

  “Shut up.”

  “We’re going to Peridosh, halfling,” Yurik finally said. “Ever heard of that?”

  “What, you mean the underground bazaar?”

  “Ha! It’s bizarre, all right.” The goblin up front slapped his knee, ignoring Bhandi’s eye roll and Tate shaking his head before looking out the window. “But that’s the way we like it, huh? Good to know you’ve heard of that, at least.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never been there.”

  “Well, hold onto your pointy little ears, halfling.” Bhandi chuckled and slowed the car to a stop beside the gate booth on the right. “You’re in for a treat.”

  Cheyenne frowned at the troll behind the wheel.

  Tate leaned toward her and muttered, “They’re not that little. Don’t take it personally. She just likes to fuck with people.”

  Pointing to her ears, the drow halfling shot him a sarcastic grin. “Trust me, I’m not overly sensitive about ear jokes.” Just don’t call my sparks “cute.”

  The vehicle fell silent, then Bhandi huffed and turned a wide-eyed stare toward Yurik.

  “What? You wanted the wheel. Go ahead and take charge.”

  “Right. You can slide over and take my seat while I’m grabbing us all masks? I don’t think so. Out.”

  “Jeez. You’re taking this way too seriously, you know that?” Yurik unbuckled his seatbelt and jerked open the door. His jaunty whistle followed him out of the car and into the unmanned booth.

  Tate chuckled and rubbed the top of his bald head. Cheyenne glanced at him and whispered, “Masks?”

  “Oh, yeah. You don’t have to worry about that one, do ya? We’ll get goin’ in a minute.”

  Yurik kept whistling all the way until he slid back into the passenger seat. Then the door thumped close, and he held out his open hand toward Bhandi. “One for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here you go, Grapeface.” Yurik shoved his hand into the back seat and dropped a black metal ring into Tate’s open palm.

  “All this time, and that’s the best name you can come up with?” Tate closed his hand around the ring, slipping it on just as Bhandi and Yurik did the same with theirs.

  “The other option was Eggplant, buddy. You decide.”

  Cheyenne leaned toward the door beside her when the air shimmered around the other FRoE agents in the car. Then what had been two trolls and a goblin in the Range Rover with her were now three more humans. At least human-looking. “Woah. Masks.”

  “Yeah, that’s a name we’ve been throwing around for a while.” Yurik flipped over his tanned hands, studying them. “We get to borrow these when we go out on our rec time. Turn ‘em in when we roll back. I heard the guys before us had to drink nasty potions before they went off base.”

  Cheyenne raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t be worse than those energy bars you keep throwing at me.”

  The FRoE operatives burst out laughing. Yurik turned again to look at her and nodded. “You’re all right off duty too, you know that? Now let’s ride!”

  Bhandi looked up in the mirror on the sun visor, rearranging her auburn hair, which now ran in one braid down the back of her head instead of countless smaller ones. “Can’t wait to slip these damn things back off again.”

  “Then go.” Yurik laughed and gestured toward the road ahead of them. “Come on. I could’ve put down at least half a pitcher of grog in the time it took you to ogle yourself.”

  “Bite me, Blueface.”

  “Not anymore.” Yurik patted his human-looking cheeks and lurched against the passenger seat when Bhandi floored the gas pedal. “Jesus. You got a demon buzzing around inside you or something?”

  Bhandi gripped the steering wheel tighter with both hands and wiggled her head. “Probably.”

  Cheyenne’s face hurt from trying not to smile too much. Friends are good, I guess.

  The Range Rover sped down the narrow road away from the FRoE compound, filled with Bhandi and Yurik’s nonstop banter while Tate just shook his head in the back seat.

  The halfling kept a careful eye on where they were going, cementing the route in her memory. No sedatives or black bags this time. I won’t say anything if they don’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Half an hour later, they pulled into a public parking lot in Union Hill. Four doors opened and shut, letting out four human-looking magicals. Tate nudged Cheyenne’s arm and jerked his chin up. “Must be pretty nice to just slip in and out of that look whenever you want.”

  The halfling spread her arms and looked down at her clothes. “The Goth thing?”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

  She smirked and followed the off-duty FRoE agents toward the parking meter in the lot. Bhandi punched in the license plate, then hissed out a sigh. “Shit. Anybody have a dollar?”

  “You’re so worried about driving fast, you forgot to bring cash.” Yurik folded his arms. “I’m gonna end up paying for all your drinks too, aren’t I?”

  The troll woman—temporarily a brunette with hazel eyes and freckles—shot him a cheesy grin and batted her lashes. “That would be, like, so incredible.”

  One side of Yurik’s face wrinkled, lifting the same side of his upper lip in wary distas
te. “Okay, now you’re taking it too far.”

  “Here, just use my card.” Cheyenne slipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket.

  “Nope. You’re getting’ everything on us, tonight, halfling.” Tate nudged her again and pulled a brown leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. It looked totally normal in the human hands of the guy with dirty-blond hair who was almost exactly Cheyenne’s height. He whipped out a debit card and passed it to Bhandi. “And I mean everything.”

  “You guys don’t have to do that—”

  “Oh, yes, we do.” Bhandi paid for their parking, slapped the card back into Tate’s hand, and took off toward the row of shops ahead of them. “Don’t try pulling the humility card tonight. Oh, shit.” The troll in a brunette mask turned over her shoulder to frown at Cheyenne. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  The halfling swallowed under their gazes. Guess I couldn’t keep this up forever. “Cheyenne.”

  “Cheyenne.” Yurik grinned, bobbing his head while they took off across the street again. “I was thinking something more like Beatrix. Or Rowena.”

  Bhandi and Cheyenne burst out laughing. The other woman shoved him away, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot, Yurik. What kinda names are those?”

  “Hey, I can’t help what pops into my head.”

  Tate frowned at the halfling. “Like the city in Wyoming?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Same spelling and everything. And no, I was born and raised in Virginia.”

  The troll with sandy-blond hair and blue human eyes sniggered. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of practice with that answer.”

  “You have no idea.”

  They stopped in front of a Fro-Yo shop, which had an Open sign in the window and patrons at the tables. Tate opened the door and held it for everyone. The agents filed in and Cheyenne followed, and then she stared at the inside of the shop. “This isn’t what I expected.”

  Bhandi shot the halfling a wide grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “This ain’t nothin’, Cheyenne. Just wait.”

  They moved back toward the counter, where a middle-aged man in a brown tweed suit jacket nodded at them.

  “What’s up, Tony?” Yurik called. “Havin’ a good night?”

  “If you call standing here playing guard dog for twelve hours six days a week a good night, then sure. I’m having loads of fun.”

  “Whoa, sorry I asked.” Yurik raised both hands in surrender and walked past the counter toward the back of the store.

  Tate rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Want us to bring you anything, big guy?”

  “Yeah, get me a raise, will ya?”

  The blond troll shot Tony the guns with both hands and winked. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  “I bet you will.”

  Bhandi reached the door at the back of the shop first, jerking it open with a flourish. She held it for the others, waving for them to hurry up. The piece of paper taped to the wooden door had the words “Employees only. Keep out” written in huge bright-red letters.

  Cheyenne glanced back at Tate and pointed toward the door. “Guess it doesn’t apply to us, huh?”

  “Even if it did, would you wanna be the one to tell Bhandi she can’t walk in there?”

  “Good point.”

  It looked like a door to a storage room or maybe an office, but it wasn’t either of those. Cheyenne stepped into the tiny room with the FRoE agents, and the door clicked shut behind them. Then two metal doors the same brushed silver as the floor and walls closed in front of them and met in the middle. The halfling opened her mouth and paused before blurting, “Did we just walk into an elevator?”

  Yurik stuck out his lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. I’d say that pretty much sums it up.”

  “This isn’t just any elevator.” Bhandi patted the metal wall as the box around them jolted and moved down. “Cheyenne, this is the elevator to the best damn bazaar this side of the Border.”

  “Oh, right.” Yurik scoffed. “Like you can have anything to compare it to.”

  “Hey, I’ve heard the stories. And I’m not the first person to give it the same kinda high praise.”

  “You spend too much time listening to those ancient farmers talking a big game about ‘back in their day.’” Yurik pulled a face, and Tate leaned back against the elevator wall, smirking.

  “You think they have pigs on the other side? Really?” Bhandi looked at the muscular goblin dressed like a 1970s remake and shook her head. “Shut your mouth before I rip the stupid leash right out of your face.”

  Yurik shot her a wounded look of fake insult, his eyes wide, and lifted a human-looking hand to the much smaller ring through his human-looking septum. “It’s not a leash.”

  “Not yet.” Pressing her lips together to hold back a laugh, Bhandi twisted the black ring on her index finger before yanking it off. The air shimmered in front of her, and then she was all violet skin and scarlet braids again. She rolled her shoulders back and tipped her head from side to side. “Oh, man. Much better.”

  “Please.” Yurik grunted and struggled to take off his ring as Tate slipped his neatly off his pinky and stuffed it into his front pocket. “You can’t feel an illusion spell.”

  “But I can feel better knowing I look better.” Bhandi pocketed her ring too. “You might get it if you bothered to buy yourself some new clothes. Like from this century.”

  The black ring finally popped off Yurik’s thumb, and then his dark hair lightened and turned into the racing stripe of yellow braid down his blue-green head. The ring through his nose more than tripled in size, and he pocketed his ring too. “I am perfectly happy with my choice of clothes, thank you very much. And since when did you give a shit about fashion?”

  Bhandi shrugged. “I don’t. I give a shit about busting your balls, though.”

  Cheyenne glanced up at the ceiling of the elevator, scanning the top of all four walls without seeing a single button or one of those little screens which counted which floor they were on. “How far down are we going?”

  Tate clicked his tongue. “Far enough. Plus, this thing is really slow.”

  “Has to be with all the wards, yeah?” Yurik sighed and laced his fingers together, pushing them out to crack his knuckles. “Feels like we haven’t been down here in weeks.”

  Bhandi folded her arms. “Huh. Maybe it’s ‘cause we haven’t been down here in weeks.”

  “Hey.” Tate nudged Cheyenne with the back of his hand again. “You don’t have a mask to take off, but you should…you know.”

  The troll gestured to his face and shrugged.

  “Yeah, better go drow for this, Cheyenne,” Bhandi added. “Not sure anyone down here’s gonna know what to do with a human-looking chick. Even a Goth chick.”

  Yurik leaned toward the halfling. “Especially ‘cause halflings are supposed to be, well…”

  “A myth?” Cheyenne cocked her head.

  “Listen to her.” Yurik pointed at her, nodding. “You do know some stuff. I’ll give you that.”

  “Well, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  Tate laughed and bobbed his head. “Compared to us, halfling, yeah, you kinda were.”

  Ignoring the jab, Cheyenne took a breath and let the heat of her drow magic flare from the base of her spine. Her skin darkened, hair faded to bone-white, and she stood with the other magicals—FRoE agents, but still magicals—looking like a full drow.

  “Yeah, that’s more like it.” Yurik grinned.

  Bhandi stared at the halfling’s hair and slowly shook her head. “Love those ears, man.”

  Cheyenne snorted. “Wouldn’t say they’re my best feature, but okay. Thanks.”

  “What’s your best feature, then?” Tate asked. “In your personal opinion.”

  She stared at him and conjured a sphere of her black, crackling magic, purple light sparking at its center. The elevator filled with the loud buzz of the spell in such an enclosed space. The agents cracked up laughing, then the elevator shook with a squealing groan and
stopped moving.

  “Okay, put that shit away.” Bhandi waved off the halfling’s spell and chuckled again. “We all know you’re a badass.”

  Tate spread his arms. “Hey, it’s her best feature.”

  The elevator doors opened slowly, letting in the startlingly loud rumble of hundreds of voices talking all at once.

  How did I not hear this first?

  Cheyenne leaned back before the doors opened all the way, her nostrils flaring. “Whew. Smells like my neighbors’ apartment times a million.”

  “You got magical neighbors, huh?” Bhandi shrugged. “Bet they got what you’re smelling right here.”

  “They did, yeah. Every Wednesday.”

  The off-duty agents chuckled again and stepped quickly out of the elevator. Tate nudged Cheyenne’s shoulder again before walking past her. “You’re gonna love this.”

  Bhandi spun around and spread her arms, walking backward into the long, crowded walkway with a grin. “Welcome to Peridosh, halfling.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Like Q3’s marketplace on steroids. Cheyenne gazed at all the brightly colored banners and pendants streaming across the wide underground room, dipping in the center just out of reach if the halfling jumped with an outstretched hand. Vendors had set up their carts, forgoing tents in a place closed off from the elements. Everywhere she looked, magicals bartered, laughed, bought and sold, ate, drank, and clapped each other on the back.

  “Hey, watch yourself, greenskin,” a short, squat goblin woman barked at the orc who’d stepped back into her cart. “Or you can pay me for the whole fell-damned bushel.”

  “Piss off, Heesha. Everyone knows you’re trying to sell us last week’s leftovers.”

  The magicals who’d heard the jab laughed and Cheyenne kept walking after her new FRoE friends. There’s always someone trying to make trouble.

  The sound of at least four drums beating a fast-paced rhythm echoed toward them from up ahead. Yurik did a weird little jig and spun to grin at her. “What do you think?”