by Martha Carr
“No, it would be your class. Completely autonomous. You decide what to teach and how, as long as it follows curriculum guidelines and adheres to the specified subject matter. Which is quite vague at this point.” LePlant shot Mattie an exasperated glance. “But it has to be those days and that ten o’clock class. And you’ll write a miniature dissertation at the end of every semester summarizing the course material and certain learning points along the way. For yourself. So, what do you think?”
Plenty of time for breakfast in the morning. “Looks like I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Cheyenne.” Mattie raised an eyebrow. “This is just the only good one.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”
Hersh slapped his hands on the table and pushed out of the chair. “Thank God that went quickly.”
Cheyenne and most of her teachers frowned at the man as he sped past the conference table and headed through the door without another word.
“We’re very glad to hear it,” Beckwith added. “And I, for one, am confident in your ability to switch gears like this. Good luck.” He stood too, and Beckwith followed him out with a small nod at the grad student-turned-student teacher.
“Professor Bergmann will fill you in on all the details and help you get set up. You start Monday.” LePlant held out her hand, and Cheyenne slowly reached up to take it. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do.”
“You and me both.” Sighing, the halfling turned her chair to watch the woman step out of the room, then spun quickly toward Mattie. “You’re gonna fill me in on the details, huh?”
“Don’t I always?” Mattie slung a medium-sized tote over her shoulder. “You can thank me later, kid. Right now, I’m thanking you.”
“I mean, it’s my master’s on the line, apparently.”
“Well, yeah. And you can do whatever you want with it. Not my place to judge. You also just picked up my Advanced Programming class, and whew! I feel a million pounds lighter.”
“Wait, what?” Cheyenne stood, picked up her backpack, and followed the woman into the hall. “Your class?”
“Yes. I can’t stand undergrad classes. They bore me to tears.”
The halfling scoffed. “How is a class that bores you gonna help me learn anything?”
The Nightstalker college professor turned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Why do you think the specified subject matter is so vague?” She chuckled. “LePlant doesn’t appreciate the way I plan my courses. Especially the ones I just… Ugh.”
“Wow.”
“Oh, come on, kid. Do you know how many grad students get this kind of opportunity?”
“You’re gonna tell me, aren’t you?”
“None of them. This is a one-of-a-kind thing just for you, which is why it fits. Because you don’t, and we both know that.” Mattie looked quickly away and fought down a laugh. “That’s also why I pushed the rest of your professors into accepting my proposal and coming to this meeting.”
“This was your idea.”
“I have a spot of brilliance from time to time.”
Cheyenne stopped in the middle of the hall and stared at the back of Mattie’s long, wavy black hair. “This is because I stopped coming to your office hours, isn’t it?”
“Very funny, kid. Feel free to stop by whenever you like. Door’s always open. And look for an email from me coming atcha tomorrow. Now go enjoy your weekend. That’s still a thing.” Just like that, Professor Mattie Bergmann disappeared around the corner, leaving the drow halfling alone in a closed-up building fifteen minutes after she’d arrived.
Guess I’ll pull this off like everything else. Four and a half hours a week, though?
Cheyenne cocked her head and started down the hall toward the front doors of the Computer Sciences building. “Not bad.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
“Wait, wait, wait. They want you—” Ember barked a laugh, then clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “Sorry. They want you to teach a class?” The laughter returned as soon as she got the question out.
“Yuck it up, Em. You’re looking at VCU’s newest and worst student-teacher.”
“Oh, you won’t be that bad.” Ember bit her lip and managed to hold back another fit of laughter for maybe five seconds. “No, no. This is good. Take you out of your comfort zone. You just need to brush up a little on your people skills.”
“I have people skills. I just choose not to use them as frequently as others might want me to.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to put on that Summerlin charm in the classroom three days a week.”
Cheyenne shook her head. “If I don’t, I might get every student to drop out of the class. Then I’m free.”
The fae shot her a pointed look and folded her arms.
“Kidding. Just a joke. Doesn’t mean I can’t wish for a particular outcome.”
“Come on, Cheyenne. You were sailing through your classes. It’s the showing-up part that got you into this.”
“Can you blame me?”
Ember nudged the paper towel holder across the island toward her friend and waited for Cheyenne to wipe the marinara sauce off her chin. “I can’t blame you for anything. Kinda self-explanatory at this point. Except for maybe eating that spaghetti like you’ve never used a fork before.”
“I’m starving, okay? One weird orange-flavored thing of O’gúleesh meat on a stick isn’t enough to keep me running at full capacity.” Cheyenne twirled up another forkful and shoveled it into her mouth. “Thanks for ordering a whole second box of this, by the way.”
“I learned not to share meals with you, like, two weeks after we met.”
The halfling chuckled and had to wipe more sauce off. “Yeah, I kinda lost it on you, huh?”
“Well, it wasn’t full-drow-mode losing it, but a tiny part of me thought you were gonna stab my eye out with those chopsticks.”
“See? This is a way better conversation.”
Ember grabbed the water bottle out of her lap and gulped half of it in one breath. “But I still didn’t make my point, which is that you really don’t have an excuse not to show up for an hour-and-half class three days a week. Are you kidding?”
“But it’s not a class. It’s teaching.” Cheyenne swallowed. “A class.”
“Yeah, a class you get to build from scratch. Listen, I got shot and still didn’t get that kind of offer.”
The halfling slowly looked up from her food and smiled when she saw Ember fighting back another laugh. “You’re getting good at that. I actually thought you were pissed.”
“I will be if you screw this up. You think magical criminals and your FRoE frenemies can work around your particularly open schedule now?”
“I sure hope so.” Another bite of spaghetti went in, then Cheyenne dropped the fork into the takeout container and nodded. “Hit the spot. Have I told you lately that you’re kind of the best roommate? Housemate’s better, right?’
“Yeah. But I’m starting to feel more like your personal assistant.”
They both cracked up at that, and Ember turned around before wheeling herself out into the living room.
“You know, you would be pretty good at that.”
“Shut up. I’d never work this hard for someone who paid me to do it.”
The halfling joined her friend in the living room and cocked her head. “I don’t think your definition of professional incentive matches the actual definition.”
“Hey, if I ended up doing all this for someone else, I’d have to figure out what they like first and get the okay on everything and spend all my time doing stuff for someone else before I called it a day and…what? Went to bed? I’m not just doing this for you. You don’t even like the paintings up there.” Ember snorted and pointed toward the abstract pieces of whatever.
Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. “Was it that obvious?”
“Transparent.”
“I really don’t mind them. Seriously. It’s not like I spent a lot of
time staring at walls. Or art. Plus, I told you to take the reins, and you did.”
Ember wheeled herself back and forth at the edge of the area rug, waiting for the halfling to drop into one of the leather armchairs. “And I can’t even tell you how much fun I’ve had racking up bills on your card the last two days.”
Cheyenne waved her off and crossed one foot over the opposite knee. “You didn’t make the Goth-box for you, though.”
The fae grinned and stopped rolling. “I nailed that one, didn’t I?”
“I’ll put it this way, Em. If I enjoyed shopping, I couldn’t have made that bedroom any better than what you put in there.”
“And the pillow, huh?” Ember flipped her friend the middle finger, and they laughed.
“You get me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not that hard to read.”
They sat there for a moment, then Cheyenne looked over the back of the armchair at her bedroom door. “You didn’t…have Matthew Thomas help you with that, did you?”
“Pshh. No. I brought in professionals for your room. Matthew was good for hanging two pieces of artwork, then he just sat down and started talking.”
“He does like to do that, doesn’t he?”
Ember rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have the heart to ask him to leave. The dude’s really lonely.”
“Aw, tell me you didn’t fall for that spiel.”
“No falling. Just sitting.” The fae patted the armrests of the wheelchair. “I don’t know. He’s not that bad.”
“Say that again in a week.”
“No.”
“Just saying. If he thinks there’s even a tiny chance of you maybe kinda sorta liking him, he’s not gonna give up.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “Whatever. New topic.”
“I’m drawing a blank.” Cheyenne laughed at her friend’s frown and spread her arms. “I know. There’s always something goin’ on in my head. Maybe too much today. Might’ve fried a few circuits.”
“I bet that line would be a hit in front of your new students.”
The halfling cleared her throat and slowly shook her head. “New topic.”
“New Netflix series?”
“I’m down. Oh. I forgot to get your—” A low buzz came from the wall beside the door. The sturdy-looking long black cabinet under the weird artwork wasn’t just a cabinet. The top lifted slowly, revealing a massive flat-screen TV inside. Cheyenne turned back toward Ember, who’d pulled a shiny black remote out of her pocket and now wiggled it. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re footin’ the bill.”
“Damn straight. And happy to do it.” The halfling turned sideways in the chair and slung both legs over the armrest. “Whatever you wanna watch. I’m going to see Corian in a bit, so I need to zone out until then.”
“Yeah, ‘cause this might be the last Saturday you have free before you’re hunched over your desk grading papers.”
“Well, then don’t ruin it.”
Two and a half hours later, Cheyenne pulled up in front of her Nightstalker mentor’s rental unit. With her backpack slung over her shoulder, it took her a little extra maneuvering to pull the basket of magical supplies and the leather case out of her back seat. Then she closed the door and looked across the grass. At least he’s not standing out here this time watching me.
She moved quickly across the lawn and down the damp concrete steps to Apartment D. The metal door flashed orange and opened swiftly before she could decide on the best way to knock.
“Hurry up.” Corian nodded for her to step inside, and he closed the door before putting the wards back up again. Then he glanced down at the basket in her hand and blinked. “What the hell did you bring over?”
“Spell ingredients. Remember?”
“Damn. Remind me never to have you do my shopping for me.”
“I’ll never do your shopping for you. Moving on.”
“Mmhmm.” The Nightstalker frowned at her supplies, then nodded toward the shelves. Just set it over there. Trials first. Remember?”
“What trials?”
Corian just blinked with zero expression on his feline features.
With a sigh, the halfling gently set everything down beside the overstuffed metal shelves, then opened her backpack and pulled out the puzzle box. “Where to tonight?”
“You know, I kinda like watching you figure it out when we get there.” Corian brushed past her and stopped in front of the circle of candles in the middle of the floor. “Hurry up.”
“Yeah, okay. You in a time crunch or something?”
“Aren’t you? The faster we get you through your trials, the easier this’ll be for all of us.” He lifted his hands in front of him and waited for the halfling to stop at his side. Several whispered words in O’gúleesh and quickly executed gestures later, a portal opened in the center of the circle.
“I’m so glad it’s not an island.” Cheyenne stepped over the candles and passed through the dark, glimmering portal toward trees and underbrush and boulders strewn across a hill. Her Vans slid sideways on a carpet of pine needles, throwing her off balance for a second before she caught herself. Then Corian stepped through, the portal disappeared, and the halfling turned back to shoot him a disbelieving glance. “We’re training on the side of a mountain?”
“What, you think every piece of terrain you’ll have to fight on is gonna be flat?”
“You’re right. No problem. If I go flying down that hill, I’ll just hope I’m fast enough to catch myself before bashing my brains against one of those boulders down there.”
“You’re fast enough.”
The halfling took a second glance at the steep hill and the large outcropping of moss-covered boulders below. “Speaking of terrain, where are we this time?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere in Yellowstone.”
“National Park?”
“You know the drill.” The Nightstalker crunched across the ground, tilting his body to expertly adjust for the steep incline. “I’ll wait.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Just what we need. Blasting apart a national park and stirring up more Bigfoot stories. Cheyenne untied the knot in the chain around her neck for the millionth time and stuck it and the pendant in her pocket. Then she nestled the drow legacy box in the pine needles and leaves beside her and slipped into drow form. “Oh, man!”
“You good?”
“Oh, yeah. Feels like I’ve been shoved into a box all day and finally broke out again.”
“Hmm. Normal side effect. Probably.”
The halfling snorted. “Thank you so much for the reassurance. Hey, speaking of said pendant, does that thing have, like, a breaking point?”
“Such as?”
“Such as some part of my magic slipping through in a situation where I really wanted to use it?”
Corian stroked his fur-covered chin, his silver eyes fixed intently on his halfling trainee. “That’s part of the time crunch.”
“Oh, really?” Cheyenne tossed her white hair out of her face. “How?”
“More like a countdown with the spell on that pendant. Wearing it while you’re actively going through the drow trials messes with the effectiveness.”
“You’re serious.”
“Of course I am. Which is why we need to get you through the rest of your latent abilities and the last few layers of that puzzle box as quickly as possible.” He shrugged. “If I timed it right, I’m pretty sure the Heart of Midnight will keep you relatively hidden until that thing opens.”
“That thing?” Cheyenne pointed at the puzzle box.
“Yes, Cheyenne.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that there’s a timer on the one thing keeping me safe?”
“Well, you figured it out anyway.”
“Come on, Corian. If I knew it wasn’t completely hiding me, I wouldn’t have been stuffing myself into that magic-dampening box for days.”
“Don’t even think about it.” He pointed at her, his flat cat
-like nose wrinkling in a snarl. “I told you at that mansion that I wasn’t gonna come after you to save your ass again, and I meant it. This is a lot bigger than just you, Cheyenne. We’re all making sacrifices.”
“Like whom?”
The Nightstalker dropped his hand and scowled.
“No, seriously? Who else is making sacrifices so I can get through these trials before that necklace goes boom and throws me out of hiding?”
“We came here to train on a mountain, kid. The bigger picture can wait.”
Yeah, just like everything else. “Lemme guess, we’ll get there when I’m ready.”
Corian stalked across the mountainside.
“These trials better not take much longer. I am so sick of hearing that.”
“You’re the one who said it.”
“Just don’t.”
The Nightstalker smirked and crouched in his ready stance, fingers twitching a little at his sides. “Let’s get to work so we can both stop saying it.”
Cheyenne pulled up a crackling sphere of black energy in her palm and lifted it out to the side. “My pleasure.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
“Dammit!” Cheyenne slammed chest-first into a tree, bringing down a rain of pine needles on her head. She pushed herself away from the rough bark and whirled to scan the sloping forest. He keeps pulling out more tricks, doesn’t he? Where are you, you sneaky bastard?
A swift rustle of leaves came from behind the tree, then a twig snapped farther to the left. The halfling stepped backward on her bare feet, having removed her shoes once she realized Corian was playing a game of “sneak around the woods.” Even with the darkness in the woods and the trees blocking out all the starlight, she didn’t need her eyes to find the Nightstalker. She could hear him. And I know he can’t hear me.
Pine needles drifted down to the forest floor about six yards in front of her. Cheyenne stepped around the other side of the tree she’d almost knocked down after Corian’s last sneak attack, then glanced at the closest boulder. Just a stone’s throw away. That might have a whole new meaning after this.
