Quote the Drow Nevermore

by Martha Carr

  “Then please, at the very least, respect a genuine request from a friend. I know I keep asking it of you, but that’s as much as I can do. Please just trust me.”

  Gritting her teeth, the half-drow pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. I need to pass these trials. “Yeah, I will respect the request, and I trust you. Just don’t drag me around past the due date, okay? I’ve had way too much of that over the last few weeks.”

  “I will promise you that much, kid. The old laws have a lot more integrity than a twenty-one-year-old secret Earthside organization pretending they know everything about us.”

  She laughed. “No. You’re not FRoE, that’s for sure.”

  “So glad we’re on the same page.”

  Narrowing her eyes, the halfling looked her mentor up and down and shook her head. “They’ve got you on the biting sarcasm, though.”

  “Well, they can have it. Sarcasm’s not my priority.”

  “No argument, there.”

  “So. I’ve got a few more minutes of intense concentration left in me.” Corian picked up Mattie “Maleshi” Bergmann’s spell for a personal illusion charm and flicked it with his other hand. “What about you?”

  “Let’s give it a shot.”

  An hour later, Cheyenne moved slowly and deliberately through the hand gestures Corian had helped her decipher from Mattie’s drawings. Focus. This is where you screwed up last time. She paused, itching to hook her index finger next. Instead, she flicked her right pinky finger out, then hooked her finger toward her left palm.

  The copper ring Corian had pulled from the equivalent of his junk drawer flashed with white light.

  “Holy shit. Did I just…”

  Corian tilted his head. One eye drooped mostly closed before he blinked quickly. “That one looked successful.”

  “Ha! I did it! This drow halfling just bonded an illusion charm. Fuck, yeah!”

  The Nightstalker rubbed between his eyebrows with two fingers. “Cheyenne, if you don’t quit squealing from two feet away, I will throw you out that door. Or through it.”

  “All right, party pooper.” She took it down a notch and flicked her gaze toward the aggravated magical. “And I don’t squeal.”

  “From where I’m sitting, you might as well be a room full of screaming children wrapped in a drow bow.”

  “You can try all you want, but nothing’s gonna make me feel like crap right now.” The halfling grinned at the copper ring. “I just opened a whole new world.”

  “We won’t know for sure until you try the damn thing.”

  “Oh. Right.” She snatched the ring off the floor while Corian massaged his temples. The ring slid onto her right ring finger but stopped at the second knuckle. “Damn. I know I have small hands, but this is kinda ridiculous. Where’d you get this anyway?”

  “Some fae jeweler just outside the capital.”

  “Fae, huh?”

  “Small hands.”

  She chuckled. “Whatever.” The ring slipped perfectly onto her pinky, and a small buzz raced up her arm. Now for the real test. With a deep breath, Cheyenne stared at the ring and shifted back into her human form. She’d grown so used to the heat of her drow magic drawing itself up from the base of her spine that feeling it slip away was like stepping outside buck-naked in the middle of winter. But that was the only change.

  Corian looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Right. See? Sometimes you think it works, but a quick test just shows you it’s another dud. We’ll have to try again another day, kid. I can’t handle any more of this.”

  “Dude.” Smirking at the way he cringed under that address, Cheyenne waited for him to look at her. “Corian…”

  “I can’t sit through you attempting that spell one more time. It’s exhausting, and it makes me want to kill something.”

  “Good thing you don’t have to, then.”

  That made him look up, just as the halfling slid the copper ring off her pinky. The air shimmered around her, and her drow image fell away into the pale-skinned, black-haired Goth girl. “That looked like an illusion charm.”

  “Because it is.” She wiggled her eyebrows and clenched the ring in her fist. “By the way, have you ever considered getting therapy for that ‘wanting to kill something’ problem?”

  “Silence and solitude are all I need, Cheyenne. No therapist is gonna give me that.” He cocked his head and blinked slowly. “But you sure as hell can.”

  “I get it.” The halfling snatched up the three other ingredients they’d used to bind the charm to that ring. Everything went into the front pocket of her backpack, the drow puzzle box slid into the main pocket, and she stuck the brown jar of darktongue salve in behind it. Then she pointed at the spellbook. “Cool with you if I leave that here?”

  “If it gets you out faster.”

  “Damn. Don’t hold back or anything.” With a wry laugh, she stood and grabbed the hardened leather slip with the O’gúl hornet’s web inside. I’m positive he’ll know what this is. I’ll bring it back next time. “Try again tomorrow?”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, hey. Do you have, like, a cell phone or something? It gets pretty old having to pop onto the Borderlands forum every time I wanna ask to come over.”

  Corian rubbed his temples again. “I’ll call you tomorrow. How’s that?”

  “You don’t have my number.”

  The Nightstalker’s silver eyes flashed with deadly irritation when he looked at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, not anymore.” Shaking her head, the halfling moved toward the door.

  “Cheyenne. Pendant.”

  “Reduced to one-word sentences.” He didn’t think that was very funny, so she shut up and pulled out the Heart of Midnight on its broken chain. Once she’d tied the knot again, Cheyenne shot him a thumbs-up. Without looking, Corian deactivated the wards around his metal front door, and she nodded. “Thanks for all of it. And you should at least get a mini-fridge with a little freezer drawer.”

  Corian clenched his eyes shut and whispered, “What the fuck?”

  “You know. To ice your jaw. Helps with the swelling.”

  “Out.”

  “G’night.” Cheyenne jerked open the door and shut it quickly behind her before almost skipping up the damp steps covered in damp leaves. And I thought I had an issue with personal space. Nightstalker’s been spending too much time in a basement by himself. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the copper ring there. That and the chirp of her Panamera when she unlocked it made her grin.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Cheyenne practically stumbled into her apartment. Good thing I helped Ember to bed before I left. She’d think I showed up wasted.

  The backpack slid off her shoulder and onto the floor beside the gray suede couch. Her black Vans thumped across the floor in the direction of the front door, and she staggered across the apartment toward her bedroom on the other side.

  The chandelier lamp was still on, casting a soft purple light over everything. The halfling sighed, her shoulders relaxing as her exhaustion finally caught up with her. She emptied her pockets onto the chest of drawers with the skull handles, making sure not to toss the copper ring behind the furniture in the process. Then her clothes landed in a pile on the floor, and she brushed aside the black canopy around her bed before climbing onto the mattress.

  “Oh, yeah.” The mattress sank beneath her weight. I could sleep on top of this purple velvet and be totally fine. But she forced herself to pull back the comforter and laughed as much as she could for how tired she was. “And black satin sheets. Ember Gaderow is officially the patron saint of Goths. I even sound drunk.”

  She tossed some pillows aside but left the softest ones and had no problem drifting off to sleep, even with the Heart of Darkness pendant pressing uncomfortably into her collarbone.

  “Cheyenne.”

  The harsh whisper made the halfling roll over in her brand-new bed.

  “Cheyenne, you need to wake up.”
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  She groaned, grabbed a pillow, and tossed it toward the voice.

  “Hey! Get the hell up!” A loud clap echoed through her room.

  It jolted Cheyenne the rest of the way out of her sleep, and she pushed up onto her elbows, blinking sleepily. When her eyes adjusted to the low light coming from the lamp she hadn’t turned off, she bolted upright and jerked the velvet comforter to her chin. “Shit! What… You…”

  “Quit stuttering and listen up.” L’zar Verdys glanced at the blackout curtains over her window, then took a step closer to the foot of her bed.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?”

  “I’m not. Technically. It’s the Don’adurr Thread. We did it once, and now that we opened the channel…” He clicked his tongue and shot another quick look at her window. “I can only do this so many times, so you need to pay attention.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need—”

  “Shut up.” The drow’s shoulders hunched as he glanced around a room Cheyenne couldn’t see. “I need you to get this message to Corian. There’s been a breach. Unregulated. My guess is the Crown’s behind this, but we need to be sure. Tell him to grab whoever he thinks is up to the job and take them out there ASAP. Today would be good.”

  “Today?” The halfling gestured around her perfect Goth bedroom, now tainted by L’zar Verdys’ astral form or whatever standing in the middle of it. “I just ended yesterday.”

  “Trust me, Cheyenne. You don’t want to wait on this one. It’s not— Shit!” He ducked his head again, golden eyes darting back and forth before he crouched even lower. “We don’t… Left… Until the cycle…”

  His image flickered in and out of existence with the rest of his words, then he was gone.

  Breathing heavily, the halfling searched her room for any sign of her incarcerated father popping back into her personal space uninvited. After about a minute, she dropped back onto the bed and stared at the center of the canopy above her. Fuck. No more sleep tonight.

  She tossed the covers off and leaped out of bed. Grabbing two of the skull knobs to open the drawers only brought a brief, tense smile. Didn’t even have a chance to enjoy this. The drawer jerked open, and she found an oversized t-shirt folded neatly on top. An image of some burly guy in the same uniform as the ones who’d stepped out of her apartment flashed through her head—some dude laughing as he folded Cheyenne’s clothes, put them in drawers, and went to collect his tip.

  “Stop it.” She shook out the t-shirt, yanked it over her head, and headed quickly toward the iron staircase up to the mini-loft. Her bare feet were a lot quieter going up those stairs, and she hardly felt the metal mesh digging into her soles.

  The office chair up there wasn’t nearly as comfortable as hers, but it didn’t matter. She turned on her monitor, followed by a quick systems check before setting up the VPN one more time and diving into the dark web. Once she’d reached the Borderlands forum, she scanned quickly through the most recent topic threads and hissed. Nothing new. Nothing about a breach.

  Cheyenne growled in frustration, then glanced over the side of the loft in the direction of Ember’s bedroom. Nothing moved in the apartment. “It’s an adjustment period. We’re fine.”

  She pulled up a private message to Corian, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

  Shyhand71: Just got an unexpected visit. And a direct message for you straight from his mouth.

  Slumping back in the office chair, she drummed her fingers on the armrests and stared at the open chat box. No way he’s still awake. He wouldn’t hear the rest of that house fall down around him—

  gu@rdi@an104: Don’t say anything else here. Meet me at this address at 8:00 a.m.

  And that was it. He sent the address, the chat box closed from his end, and Cheyenne glanced at the clock at the bottom of her screen.

  Three o’clock. Great. I get an hour of sleep and have to wait three more.

  She logged out of the dark web, killed the VPN, and turned off the monitor. Then she moved quietly down the metal staircase and back into her room. She put on the first thing she pulled out of that chest of drawers without thinking about it—a pair of black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt with the neckline cut wide to drape over her shoulders. “Whatever. What am I supposed to do for three hours?”

  The latest episode of a show she’d never heard of ended and the halfling snatched the remote off the coffee table to find something else. “Well, that was a waste of a whole hour. Just one more to go.”

  Her personal phone dinged from where she’d wedged it beneath her thigh on the gray couch. Cheyenne pulled it out and read the text from Ember.

  Any chance you’re up?

  Dropping the remote, the halfling texted back. Yeah. You need some help?

  That would be awesome.

  Cheyenne swung her legs off the couch from where she’d stretched out to binge-watch not-so-binge-worthy shows and stood. When she reached Ember’s bedroom door, it was second nature to knock first.

  “Oh, do come in, won’t you?” Ember joked.

  The halfling slowly opened the door and tried to smile. “Good morning.”

  “Whoa. Apparently not.”

  “Yeah, My sleep was interrupted.”

  Ember cocked her head. “Dreams?”

  “More like visions. A visitor from Chateau D’rahl.”

  “Did he escape again?”

  “Nope.” Cheyenne approached her friend’s bed and held out her arm. Ember reached for the halfling’s shoulders, and they worked quickly to transfer her into the wheelchair. “Apparently, that little drow-astral-projection trick made it super easy for him to project himself into my bedroom.”

  “Oh, creepy.”

  “Yeah.” Cheyenne straightened and waited for Ember to get adjusted. “You good?”

  The fae nodded. “Bathroom break. Just gotta go through the morning routine first.”

  “Okay.” Watching Ember wheel herself into the bathroom, the halfling frowned and walked quickly to the kitchen. The fridge had only a few things, the most enticing of which was her leftover spaghetti from the night before.

  Just as the microwave beeped and Cheyenne withdrew a steaming container of noodles and marinara, Ember rolled into the room. “Okay, so what the hell was L’zar doing in your bedroom?”

  “Giving me a message for Corian.”

  “Figures.”

  Cheyenne shot her friend a confused smile. “I’ve really painted a good picture of both of them for you, haven’t I?”

  “I have a good imagination. What’s the super-important message?”

  The halfling slurped up the last of a steaming forkful of spaghetti and leaned over the container. “No offense, Em, but I think it might be a super-secret kinda message.”

  “None taken. You eating leftover spaghetti at six-fifteen in the morning might be a whole different issue.”

  “I was hungry, it was in the fridge…”

  “You know, sometimes it’s really hard to believe that you’re Bianca Summerlin’s daughter.”

  Cheyenne almost snorted her next bite through her nose. “Why, thank you.”

  “Uh-huh.” The fae folded her arms. “So, did you deliver the message already?”

  “Oh, crap. I gotta go.” After shoveling two more heaping forkfuls into her mouth, Cheyenne ripped a paper towel off the roll, wiped her mouth, and flung it into the empty box on the island. “I’m sorry, Em. I gotta drive to DC.”

  “I see. It’s that kinda secret message.”

  “Not the way you might think. Washington’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “As far as you know.”

  The halfling nodded. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve found out about it by now, but this isn’t a FRoE thing. This is… I don’t even know what this is, but I have to go. You gonna be okay?”

  “All right, let’s recap. I’m good. If I’m not, I’ll call you or text you or whatever. If you don’t answer, we have a very friendly neighbor just across th
e hall.”

  “Yeah, okay. Message received.”

  “Excellent.”

  Chuckling, Cheyenne grabbed everything she needed off the coffee table, shoved it all into her pockets, then pulled the middle-finger hoodie over her head. “I think that’s everything. Wish me luck.”

  Ember wheeled herself into the living room and wrinkled her nose. “Nah. You don’t need that. Just be careful, huh?”

  The halfling paused at the front door and glanced at her friend. “I will. Thanks.”

  She closed the door and headed quickly toward the elevator, the fob already in her hand. If Corian doesn’t know what to do with this message, I have a feeling we’re screwed.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  The address Corian had given her turned out to be an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of DC. Cheyenne pulled her car into a parking lot overgrown with weeds and frowned at the graffiti plastered all over the building. This is nuts.

  She got out anyway, locked her car, and glanced quickly up and down the empty street before turning toward the warehouse entrance. A bright-green light shimmered across the metal door, a brief shape flashing once in the center. Four-pointed star. Definitely not a souvenir. Before she had a chance to knock, the door swung open.

  “I’d recognize that fancy little lock-beep anywhere.” Corian stepped aside and nodded for her to enter. “Come in.”

  The halfling stepped into the not-so-abandoned warehouse and looked around. The place was mostly empty, except for tables set up in a square missing one of its sides. Those tables were covered with computer monitors and mice and keyboards, neatly bundled wires trailing to the various power sources. She saw three main towers through all the dangling mess and figured there were probably more.

  Sitting at the center table was a troll, his skin more blue than purple, with a foot-tall neon-orange mohawk jutting from his shaven scalp. He turned slowly in the desk chair, his orange-red eyes widening when he saw the halfling standing there. “By the fell-damn Crown…”