Quote the Drow Nevermore

by Martha Carr

“It’s not the same.”

  “Shh.” The troll woman’s eyes darted toward the potionmaster, who was slowly making his way along this wall of his shop now. “That’s enough.”

  R’mahr bowed his head and stared blankly at something on the counter.

  Cheyenne pressed her lips together. Trouble in Ambar’ogúl. Sounds like the current Crown started it. She filed her questions about that for a better time and nodded at the long, gossamer wing displayed beside three others on the counter. “O’gúl hornet?”

  Bryl removed her fingers from the wing she’d been gently stroking with a finger and laughed. “You don’t know anything, do you?”

  “Bryl, how many times do I have to tell you to use your manners?”

  Cheyenne set a hand on Yadje’s shoulder and gave it a little pat. “It’s okay. I don’t get enough of the truth as it is. Your kid’s all over it, and I like it.”

  “Hmm.” The troll woman shot her an amused frown and stroked the back of her daughter’s long scarlet braids.

  “This is an evendrake wing,” Bryl added softly. “That’s the O’gúl hornet’s web.”

  The halfling looked at where the troll girl pointed and cocked her head at the item dangling from the edge of the top shelf by a thin piece of twine—a cross between a dreamcatcher and a spiderweb, the thin threads glinting black and red and silver in the potion shop’s low light. “That came from a hornet?”

  “O’gúl hornet.” The kid laughed and shook her head. “Not the same as the little bugs here.”

  “Little bugs?” Yadje bent over to stick her face right up in front of her daughter’s. “I don’t know where you get these ideas, my love, but that kind of disrespect will get you—”

  “That’s what they’re called, Maji,” Bryl whispered fiercely. “Over here. Bugs.”

  “Who told you that, hmm?”

  The girl’s frown was so intense, it darkened her entire face as a bloom of deep purple rose in her violet cheeks. “One of my library books,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “The ones from last week, remember?”

  “I never would have let you bring home anything about bugs.” When Bryl’s scarlet eyes flicked toward her father, Yadje straightened and turned slowly to stare at R’mahr in disbelief. “You let her bring that sort of blasphemy into our home?”

  Her husband chuckled nervously. “It was a library book, Yadje. For children. About Earthside bugs. Two entirely different things.”

  Cheyenne cleared her throat again. “I don’t know what they are on the other side, but here, bugs are insects.”

  The troll woman blinked at her, oblivious.

  “You know. Tiny crawling things. Ants, beetles, worms, caterpillars?” The halfling shrugged. “Not ringing a bell, huh?”

  Yadje blinked furiously, glared at her husband, then shot their daughter an uncertain glance. “I never saw this book.”

  “It only took me a day,” Bryl replied, her gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s why I brought home five.”

  “Hmm.” When the troll woman met Cheyenne’s gaze, the halfling nodded and tried to smile. “If Cheyenne says that’s what it was, I must defer to her. But I don’t want to hear that word coming out of your mouth ever again. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Maji.”

  The potionmaster’s low mumbles and heavy grunts had drawn closer to them along the wall, and Yadje guided her daughter toward the front of the shop with a hand on the girl’s back. “What else did you need from here, my love?”

  Cheyenne and R’mahr exchanged glances, caught between the miffed troll woman and the seriously grouchy orc potionmaster behind them. And I thought my mom had weird quirks. That was rough.

  R’mahr leaned toward her and muttered, “The O’gúl hornet’s web has powerful uses for wards, by the way. Mesmerizing to look at, no? But so expensive.”

  The halfling muffled a laugh and nodded. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Once Bryl and Yadje had plucked everything they wanted from the potionmaster’s wares, the troll family gathered at the orc’s counter at the back of the store and waited for him to finish his curmudgeonly curation.

  “I’ll be right back,” Cheyenne muttered, then slipped around the huge display in the center of the shop and headed toward the opposite corner again. Leaning against the edge of the narrow counter lining the wall, she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the twine tying the O’gúl hornet’s web to a nail in the edge of the top shelf. A little buzz of energy jolted in her fingertips, and she carefully lowered the entire thing to study it for a second. The web twirled back and forth, the thin, glittering strands winking in red, black, and silver. Good for wards. I need wards.

  By the time she returned to the orc’s counter, the potionmaster was back behind it. He touched each of the items the trolls had set down with a gnarled finger, then rubbed his thumb against that finger and grunted. “Eighteen.”

  “Yes.” Yadje opened her oversized handbag, pulled out a small woven purse that could have been bought here in Peridosh, and handed the orc a twenty-dollar bill.

  That’s how you know we’re on this side of the border.

  The orc pulled the change out of his pocket and slapped two ones down on the counter. “Until next time.”

  “Thank you.” The troll woman pocketed the change—and their supplies—before she and her family stepped back to let Cheyenne approach the counter.

  “I know this wasn’t on the list,” the halfling said, lifting the web up over the counter, “but I couldn’t help myself.”

  The troll’s eyes all widened, and Bryl let out a little gasp. “Wow!”

  “Of course, you couldn’t.” The orc glowered at her and set the woven basket on the counter with a thud. The thing nearly overflowed with spell ingredients he’d tossed in there.

  Cheyenne nodded. “Thanks for grabbing all that. What do I owe you?”

  “Very funny.” The potionmaster’s crooked fingers reached out to take the twine tied to the O’gúl hornet’s web. “I will, however, need payment for this.”

  “Just that? I do want to buy all the stuff in that basket.”

  He shoved the basket toward her, making two of the vials clink together where they were nestled on top of the pile. “Don’t test me, drow. I’ll not be taken for a fool.”

  The old laws, huh? Got it. Cheyenne eyed the overflowing basket and nodded. “Point taken. How much for that, then?”

  Lifting the web until it spun slowly beside his wrinkled face, the potionmaster sneered. “No coin. Not even here.”

  “Uh, then what do you want for it?” The halfling glanced at the trolls, who watched the exchange in complete silence and didn’t even try to butt in.

  “You have it on you, drow. I’ll wait.”

  What the hell? Patting down her pockets, Cheyenne stared at the counter. “I’ll…look.”

  She slipped out both cell phones and placed them on the counter. Then came her wallet and car keys. The old orc grunted. When her fingers closed around the Heart of Midnight pendant, Cheyenne shook her head and slipped that into the front pocket of her hoody. No way that thing changes hands. No matter how much I hate it.

  “Hold on. I’m still looking…” Smirking, she slipped her hands into her back pockets, then the front, wondering what the old guy could possibly be waiting for. A penny came out of her left pocket, and she set it on the counter to get it out of the way. Empty pockets are a new problem, literally and figuratively. That made her laugh at herself, and the potionmaster growled. Next came Lee McDurn’s business card, and she glanced at the orc. “No? Okay.”

  Then the halfling’s fingers brushed across a small piece of metal in her right pocket with sharp, cold points. She paused, then pulled out the four-pointed star Mattie Bergmann had made from the half-drow’s wayward spell. Through the washer and everything.

  With a little shrug, Cheyenne set the metal trinket in the center of the counter, then spread her arms. “That’s all I got.”


  “It isn’t.” The orc leaned down and squinted at the tiny object but didn’t touch it. “But this will do.”

  “Great.” A four-pointed souvenir, huh? Yeah, right.

  The potionmaster jerked something under his counter and pulled out what looked like a thin mailing sleeve sold at the post office, only this one was made of some kind of tanned, hardened leather. He gingerly slid the web into it, then moved the whole thing across the counter beside the giant basket. “Don’t get it wet.”

  “Definitely not.” The halfling dipped her head and reached for her free and purchased items. “That’s it, right?”

  “Until the next time you invoke the old laws, drow.”

  “I didn’t… Never mind. Thanks.”

  “Oh, Cheyenne!” Bryl’s scarlet head popped up beside the halfling’s elbow. “I can carry that basket for you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I won’t let anything fall out. I promise.”

  Cheyenne picked up the handle and lowered the basket into the girl’s outstretched arms. “I trust you.” Everything went back into her pockets, then she grabbed the weird leather sleeve protecting the strange magical web and turned toward Bryl’s parents. “Time to go.”

  The trolls nodded at the potionmaster, who waved them off and went back to staring at the four-pointed star on his counter. They all slipped out of the shop and back into the medium-sized crowd milling around the Peridosh thoroughfare.

  “And I thought we’d be showing you something new down here.” R’mahr chuckled and shook his head. “You are full of surprises, Cheyenne.”

  “Tell me about it.” Surprises for me too. What just happened in there?

  “Is there anything else we need to see down here?” Yadje asked her husband, linking her arm through his.

  “Cheyenne did mention something about food.”

  “We ate before we came, and what you ate at home is leagues better than anything you’ll find down here.”

  The halfling took another sniff of the heavily spiced food, the scent getting stronger as they slowly made their way toward the section of Peridosh lined with taverns and food stalls. Her stomach growled again, and she shot Bryl a quick wink. “Smells pretty good to me.”

  The girl laughed and hiked the basket higher. “Maji doesn’t let us eat anything down here.”

  “Don’t talk to me about loyalty, asshole!” A surprisingly skinny orc stumbled out of the tavern beyond the Empty Barrel, his eyes wide as he whirled around to face a gigantic troll with a shock of bright-red hair running down the center of his head like a skunk stripe. “I told you to quit coming in here until you bring what you owe me!”

  Two more trolls stepped out of the tavern behind Skunkhead, their arms folded as they glared at the scrawny orc.

  “Come on, Majril,” the orc whined. “I ain’t got none of that yet.”

  “Then you can piss off.”

  Most of the crowd walked around the arguing magicals, minding their own business but moving in a fairly wide arc around the terrified orc. Cheyenne saw the thought flash across the skinny greenskin’s face a split second before he acted. The terror there flared to rage in an instant, and he threw a shower of bursting green sparks toward Skunkhead and his bouncers.

  “Bryl, my love. Over here.” Yadje reached for her daughter and pulled the girl toward R’mahr, glancing at the fight and hoping to get away in time.

  Skunkhead dodged the sparks that left divots in the front wall of his tavern and hissed. “I’m adding that to your bill, you fell-damn coward!” He unleashed a flaming ball of red fire at the orc, who leaped back and darted aside.

  The orc’s flailing hand knocked Bryl’s shoulder and sent her stumbling against her mother. Both Yadje and the girl cried out, and the orc snarled at them.

  “Now you… You…” R’mahr shook a furious finger at the other magical and seemed to run out of ideas.

  Another fireball burst on the ground at the orc’s feet, and the troll family yelped before struggling to get out of the way.

  “All right. Enough of this crap.” Cheyenne tucked the hardened leather case under her arm and stalked toward the troublemakers. “Hey!”

  “Get lost, bitch!” Skunkhead barked without turning to look at her. He was focused on shooting two columns of sparking yellow energy at the skinny orc. His target yelped and blasted a spray of tiny silver darts. The spell tinkled through the air before thudding against walls and doors and cement like they were bullets.

  Cheyenne threw up a shimmering black shield in front of her, and the tiny silver projectiles clinked against it in quick succession. Even that didn’t get the fighting magicals’ attention. When she lowered the shield and stepped forward, another round of burning drow magic flared up her spine.

  The halfling set the leather case down at her feet and didn’t give those idiots another warning. Her whipping black tendrils lashed from the fingertips of both hands and curled around first Skunkhead’s wrists, then the skinny orc’s. They both shouted in surprise, their attack spells momentarily abandoned as they struggled against their new bonds.

  “Listen up!” Cheyenne roared. Her voice echoed through Peridosh, and everyone did what she said. Not what I was going for, but okay. She tugged sharply on the tendrils writhing around the dumb magicals’ wrists. They both jerked toward her, stumbling over their feet and staring at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths. The other magicals who’d stopped at her shout picked up their errands again, giving Cheyenne a wide berth now too. “Whatever issue you guys have with each other, take care of it somewhere else, huh? There are kids here, and people who don’t wanna be caught up in your bullshit. Don’t make me drag you out of here like a couple of bullies on the playground, all right?”

  Skunkhead’s mouth opened and closed without any sound. The lanky orc trembled from head to toe, letting out terrified whimpers through his slack jaw. Then the giant troll dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the avenue. “Forgive me.”

  The orc looked at the now-sniveling troll who’d just tried to burn him to a crisp and slowly bent over until he was kneeling too, arms outstretched with Cheyenne’s quivering tendrils tightening around his wrists. “What he said.”

  The half-drow stared at them and didn’t move. I could get used to this, but what the hell?

  “The people you should be apologizing too are those trolls over there. You’re screwing up their family outing.”

  “So sorry.”

  “Sorry. We’re done.”

  “Uh-huh.” Cheyenne glanced at her troll ex-neighbors. R’mahr and Yadje looked horrified that these magicals were even talking to them. Bryl stared at the halfling and seemed ready to start cheering. The halfling gave another sharp tug on the black tendrils holding these guys at bay. “Whenever you’re ready to start using your brains, I’m more than ready to forget I had to do this.”

  Skunkhead and the trembling orc both nodded vigorously, bobbing their heads down between their outstretched arms without a word.

  The quivering black tendrils whipped away from their wrists and retracted into Cheyenne’s fingers. The orc fell flat on his face before scrambling back to his feet. Then he darted through the crowd and farther down the avenue, dodging the magicals in his way. Skunkhead stood slowly, looking up at the half-drow with terrified eyes before dropping his head again. Then he slowly backed away toward the front door of his tavern in a never-ending bow.

  Cheyenne watched him go until he slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind him. His two cronies whirled to follow but had to fumble with the door before they also disappeared.

  When she turned to look at the troll family huddling together on the other side of the avenue, they didn’t move an inch. Sighing, the halfling glanced around Peridosh and found everyone else minding their own business like the whole thing had never happened. “Okay.”

  She picked up the leather sleeve around her super-expensive magical web and went back to her old neighbors. “Even when I’m not lo
oking for it, there’s always some kind of mess that needs to be cleaned up. I’m really sorry about that.”

  “No, no, Cheyenne.” R’mahr lifted a hand, his eyes glistening with the start of tears. “I told you not to apologize to us, and I meant every word. I still do.”

  “Yeah, but you guys shouldn’t have to deal with crap like that. You were just trying to get a little shopping done.”

  Yadje’s lips were pressed together so tightly, they’d basically disappeared. “Well, that’s why we come on Wednesdays.”

  Cheyenne and R’mahr both shot her a surprised glance before bursting into laughter. The troll woman’s lips quivered a little, then she let out a self-conscious chuckle and patted the top of her daughter’s head.

  “No more Saturdays, then,” the halfling added.

  She stumbled sideways when something crashed into her thigh. Bryl craned her neck up from where she’d thrown her arms around the half-drow’s waist and beamed up at her. “Thank you.”

  “Uh, of course.” Cheyenne reached down to pat the girl’s back, nearly falling over again when Bryl gave her legs another tight squeeze. “I probably shouldn’t say that’s what I’m here for, but…” She spread her arms and shrugged.

  “You’re what’s missing, I think,” the girl muttered.

  “Oh, yeah? Missing from what?”

  “Come, Bryl.” Yadje gently tapped her daughter’s back, and the girl released Cheyenne, still staring up at the halfling in awe. Her mother gently grabbed the girl’s small violet hand and pulled her back. “I think it’s time we head back home, yes?”

  “Yes, Maji.” The girl bent to pick up the basket of Cheyenne’s things and cradled it in her arms.

  R’mahr nodded. “Unless there’s anything else you wanted while we’re here, Cheyenne?”

  “Just one more thing, actually.” The halfling tapped her fist against her belly and peered down the avenue toward the other end. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m starving.”

  She brushed past the other magicals moving about through the marketplace. Follow the trail of anything that smells normal.