The Drow There and Nothing More (Goth Drow Book 3)

by Martha Carr

  “You wanna bet? Buy me a drink in one of those fancy cups, troll breath. I’ll knock you flat on your ass.”

  “Not from the floor, you won’t.”

  Ember’s head wobbled, and she shook her head. “I’m ready to go. I gotta build up a tolerance, apparently.”

  Cheyenne snorted and stood. “Fair enough.”

  Yurik pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, and his eyes widened. “Shit, it’s nine-thirty. How did we stay down here so long without anyone trying to pick a fight with the drow?”

  “Very funny.”

  “All right. Come on.” Pushing to his feet, Yurik nodded at his fellow agents. “We’re gonna blow this joint too.”

  “At nine-thirty?” Bhandi stretched her legs out under the table and folded her arms. “Without a barfight?”

  “Yeah. I gotta report to some damn eval at the ass-crack of dawn.”

  “I don’t need you to drive me back.” The troll woman’s eyelids drooped.

  “Sure. Good luck finding an Uber driver willing to deal with your ass. Good luck finding anyone who can drive you onto the base.” Yurik cast the bar a sideways glance. “So, if you want a ride, better get up now. I’m tryin’ to make it out of here before Ogsa starts badgering me for payment.”

  Tate stood and peered into all the empty tankards in disappointment. “She always badgers you.”

  “Yeah, but I told her I’d have her money next time. If she doesn’t see us leave, maybe she’ll forget.”

  “She’s not gonna forget.” With a groan, Bhandi stood and pointed at Cheyenne. “Especially not when we’re walkin’ outta here with a drow and her fae friend. Might as well shout about it instead.” The troll cupped her hands around her mouth and leaned so far back, she should have fallen over. “Pay attention, chumps! We have friends!”

  The garbled drone of dozens of conversations dipped at Bhandi’s shout, and heads turned to eye the drunk troll woman screaming for attention. Yurik rolled his eyes and stepped away from the table. Tate had already made his way halfway across the bar, and Ember took her cue from them before wheeling down the center aisle.

  “Hey!” Ogsa shouted.

  Yurik spun with wide eyes, but when he realized the tavern owner wasn’t talking to him, he snuck through the crowd and headed for the door.

  “You like your drink?”

  Ember shot Cheyenne a confused look, then waved at the orc woman behind the bar. “Yeah, it was strong. Thanks.”

  “Ha.” Ogsa smacked the bar, a thin mist of spit flying from between her protruding tusks. “You come back any time. There’s plenty more where that came from. Gets stronger, the more you let it sit.”

  “Awesome.” Ember bobbed her head and pushed herself down what was left of the aisle now that the Empty Barrel had gotten so busy.

  Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets and followed her friend, occasionally staring down the other patrons. Doesn’t look like anyone wants to test their luck tonight. Guess I left the right impression last time.

  Tate held the door open for them, his eyes widening when Ember didn’t slow down as she approached the steps. “Hey, you need any help?”

  The wheels and the fae’s hands pulsed with a cloud of violet light as she raced out of the tavern door. Her magic hovered her over the steps and set her gently down on the uneven stone of the marketplace.

  “Of course you don’t need help.” Tate chuckled as he kept the door open for Cheyenne. “Why would I even ask?”

  Ember lifted her hands from the wheels and grinned over her shoulder at him. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. I can’t pull these tricks up there whenever I want.”

  They all glanced at the expansive tunnel ceiling yards above them. Tate shrugged. “True. Kinda nice to get out in public without wondering who’s gonna piss their pants when they see your real face or a few flashing spells and shit, huh?”

  “Definitely refreshing.” Ember took a sharp breath and yawned. “We need to get going before I have to ask my trusty assistant for her expertise, namely pushing.”

  As Ember turned her wheelchair toward the elevator at the far end of Peridosh, Tate caught Cheyenne’s gaze to mouth, “Trusty assistant?”

  Chuckling, the halfling shrugged. I guess tipsy Ember thinks I work for her too.

  The door to the Empty Barrel flew open with a bang, and Bhandi stumbled out into the crowded avenue. She turned and shot the middle finger at someone inside. “Screw you too, fishface! Yeah, take your fancy glass eye and shove it up your ass. You might like the view.” With another belch, the troll woman jumped off the last step and spread her arms as the door swung shut behind her. “What gives, huh? None of you toolbags wanna hold the door open for me?”

  Yurik reappeared from the crowd and stepped up beside the troll woman, his hands shoved into the pockets of his olive-green corduroys. “Nobody knows how long it’s gonna take you to do anything. Who’s the fishface?”

  “Fuck if I know.” Bhandi stumbled into him and slapped his hands away when he tried to push her off his shoulder.

  “Did Ogsa ask about me?”

  “What, you in love with her or something?” Bhandi scoffed and cut a zigzagging pattern across the stone floor. “Shit, man. I knew you had bad taste, but that’s taking it to a whole different level.”

  Yurik gave Cheyenne an exasperated glance and gestured at his fellow agent, who was staggering after Tate and Ember. “This is why the fellwine isn’t a regular thing.”

  Cheyenne snorted. “I thought she could handle herself?”

  “Depends on your definition of handle. Can she drink three ogres under the table one right after the other, bash their heads in with drunken kung-fu, and wake up the next morning with a raging headache and a clear memory of the whole thing? Sure.”

  “Sounds like that’s a regular thing.”

  “Uh-huh. But she can’t handle herself. I’m surprised she didn’t try to fight me for more grog.”

  Cheyenne shook her head, then her drow hearing picked up an odd, muted rumble. She frowned and paused in the center of the avenue. What is that?

  Oblivious, Yurik kept walking. “Honestly, Cheyenne, before we brought you here the first time, I was sure no one else could make as much trouble down here as Bhandi does. She was pretty sure of that too, come to think of it.”

  Cheyenne stared at the ceiling, searching for the cause of that sound.

  “You had one drink.” Laughing, the beefy goblin doubled back to join her. “I already know you’re not a lightweight. Don’t tell me you’re seeing faces in the walls.”

  “No faces.” Slowly, Cheyenne lowered her head to meet Yurik’s yellow gaze. “Does this place have earthquakes?”

  He scoffed. “How should I know? I’m not the maintenance guy.” His crooked smile disappeared, and he shot a quick glance at the ceiling too. “Why do you ask?”

  “I hear something.”

  “Super drow ears. I get it.” Yurik fell in step beside her as she started walking through the crowd again. “But after everything we were just talking about, you can’t blame me for asking why your mind went immediately to an earthquake.”

  “It sounds like something’s moving up there.” When she saw the near-panic in his wide eyes, Cheyenne shook her head. “Don’t freak out, all right? Could be an earthquake. Could be something shifting around. If we see a bunch of flashing lights and this whole place splits apart with giant black stones shooting up like twelve-foot knives, then I’ll tell you it’s a new portal.”

  “Shit, is that all?” Yurik tried to joke, but it wasn’t as easy as he wanted. “What if it is?”

  “Then we deal with it. But I really hope it’s not.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cheyenne peered through the crowd and easily spotted Bhandi’s weaving figure and her scarlet braids swinging left and right as she stumbled around. In front of the troll woman, Tate walked beside Ember, who didn’t seem to have a problem navigating the bumps in the stone floor with her n
ewfound fae magic.

  The unknown rumble grew louder for a split second before slowly fading. Sounds like it’s moving.

  A pebble dropped in front of her, followed by a few chunks of stone and supportive concrete. Cheyenne stopped and looked up at the ceiling again, stepping aside to avoid the much slower rain of dust filtering down from above.

  Yurik followed her gaze and grunted. “Haven’t seen that happen before.”

  “I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”

  The rumble grew into a roar, drowning out the shouts of vendors and customers weaving around each other. Then the entire tunnel shuddered. Stacked goods rattled and spilled off of tables and shelves onto the floor. Magicals shouted in surprise, and one of the storefronts on Cheyenne’s left exploded away from the wall.

  “Shit. Come on!” She took off toward the rest of their friends, who were approaching the other side of the tunnel.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Yurik shouted behind her.

  Cheyenne ignored him, her hearing focused on that moving rumble now coming from beyond the wall of the marketplace tunnel. Another shop crashed down on itself without warning, spraying wooden beams and glass and chunks of stone into the avenue. Everyone was shouting now as magicals scrambled to gather their scattered wares or tried to get a closer look at what was happening.

  “Get away from the wall!” Cheyenne waved for everyone to clear a space, but only a few magicals heard her.

  The rumble increased, picking up speed toward the end of the tunnel as whatever made the sound smashed against the small shops lining the wall. A spray of shattered glass and a stone gargoyle erupted from the roof of an O’gúleesh shoe store and hurtled toward the halfling. She raised a shimmering black shield above her head and left it there as she darted beneath it. The glass peppered her drow shield with a sound like hail coming down on the roof of a car, followed by the startling bong of the gargoyle before it fell to the stone floor in pieces.

  Yurik ducked under her shield seconds before it dropped away, unable to take his eyes off the rippling wall of the tunnel now that whatever moved on the other side had made it past the rows of storefronts.

  “Ember, stop!” The second she shouted it, Cheyenne knew her friend couldn’t hear her. Tate didn’t even turn around, and Bhandi kept stumbling forward, talking to herself and flinging her hands in the air. The halfling grunted and slipped into drow speed, darting around the frozen magicals in her way until she grabbed the handlebars of Ember’s wheelchair to make her stop.

  As soon as she dropped back to normal speed, a collective shout of surprise and anger rose from the magicals pushed off their feet by the shockwave she’d left behind.

  “What the hell?” Ember’s hands clamped down on the armrests, and she looked quickly over her shoulder, expecting some kind of attack. “Cheyenne.”

  “Sorry. Just hold on.” The halfling nodded toward the buckling stone wall and the thing picking up speed toward them. “Because that’s happening.”

  Tate’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t know the walls could do that.”

  A cracking boom echoed through Peridosh’s wide miles-long chamber. Shouts of surprise followed as magicals ducked and tried to find the source. The ground trembled again, making everyone stumble into each other.

  “What’s happening?” Ember shouted.

  “I don’t know, but we need to stay away from the wall!” The rumbling stopped before the halfling finished yelling. Her last words echoed in the sudden silence, and everyone in the marketplace froze in anticipation.

  “Wait.” Cheyenne cocked her head. “Do you guys hear that?”

  “No.” Tate turned to study her. “But that doesn’t mean shit, does it?”

  “Shh.” The halfling stared at the wall where the churning thing behind it had stopped moving. The rumble grew until it doubled in intensity. It’s coming from everywhere.

  “What the fuck are you morons doing?” Bhandi stumbled toward them, swinging her arms from side to side as she turned with each step. “I thought we were getting’ outta this—”

  “Christ, she went hard tonight.” Yurik shook his head and pointed at the troll woman. “Hey, just stay right there.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” Bhandi staggered forward and finally noticed the devastation in the wall across the tunnel. “Did you do this?”

  The rumbling grew louder, and Yurik nodded. “Yeah, I hear it now.”

  “You can’t just go around blowing up walls like some wall-blowing Rambo party.”

  “Bhandi, get away from the wall.”

  “Bite me!”

  Dislodged pebbles jumped around on the stone floor as the trembling picked up again. Ember wheeled toward the opposite wall, and Cheyenne rolled her eyes before leaping to grab Bhandi’s arm. “Get away from the wall.”

  “That’s my arm, Goth drow!” Bhandi whirled and wrenched herself out of Cheyenne’s grip before lifting both fists in front of her. She squinted with one eye and couldn’t keep her fists from swaying wildly in front of her face as she stepped toward the wall. “I’ll fight you for it.”

  “The hell you will.” Cheyenne leaned away from the troll woman’s sloppy swing and snatched Bhandi’s arm again. “You need to—”

  The other side of the tunnel exploded behind them with a crack of stone and a thick plume of dust and pebbles. Cheyenne whirled and found the source of all the rumbling, clicking, and thin metallic squeaking. Two-thirds up the wall of the cavern, a cone-shaped piece of metal spun as it pierced through the last bit of the stone and cement that had been hiding it.

  “What moron thought it was a good idea to dig their way down here?” a magical shouted gruffly from the crowd.

  “That’s probably one of Surgil’s fucked-up inventions.”

  Low chuckles filtered across the crowd as the magicals realized the threat wasn’t nearly as bad as they’d expected.

  An ear-splitting screech of metal on metal came from the digging machine poking out of the wall. The corkscrew nose stopped spinning and split apart like a hatching egg. Six long, glistening black appendages like unfolding crowbars burst out of the wall beside the split face of the machine. The cavern filled with a desperate scrabbling sound before the contraption pulled itself free from the wall and dropped almost a dozen yards to the ground with a clang.

  “That doesn’t look like Surgil’s work.”

  The black legs heaved the metallic body off the ground, and the machine creature hissed and clicked, gears grinding as silver lights blinked on and off behind the split digging nose.

  Cheyenne stared at the thing that clacked warily against the stone floor, scuttling back and forth like a confused crab. It’s looking for something.

  An electric green light bloomed in the center of the split digging cone, then the machine launched a ball of churning green fire into the center of the crowd.

  Screams went up from the gathered magicals, followed by rallying shouts of anger and surprise. Peridosh’s wide avenue filled with flashing lights as the magicals unleashed attack spells in return. Blue flames and crackling red spheres and a barrage of metal shards blasted the black and silver carapace of the machine standing at the end of the tunnel.

  A series of harsh, grating clicks rose from the contraption’s split cone, then it rose on the six nimble metal legs and scrambled toward the gathered crowd.

  “What the hell is it?”

  “Bring it down!”

  “Hey, watch out!”

  The machine ignored all the attacks as it reached the first row of tables along the left side of the avenue. It skittered forward, lifting tables and booths and carts with its thin metal legs and flinging them aside.

  “Ember!” Cheyenne darted toward her friend, whose chair was pinned between a broken table and a metal shelving unit that had fallen behind her.

  The machine-creature raced toward the fae, flipping random items in all directions. It caught one of its legs beneath Ember’s chair and tossed her aside befo
re Cheyenne thought to slip into her drow speed. When she did, she wrapped her arms around her friend and took Ember to the other side of the avenue, setting her gently down beside a stack of crated supplies. Then she stepped back into the center of the wide walkway and hurtled black spheres at the creature.

  Cheyenne’s magic blasted into the side of the machine suspended within her drow speed. The sparks flared in real-time across the metallic surface, then a series of clicks and squeaks and whirring mechanisms rose from the contraption. Black and silver lights flashed within the black metal carapace, and the machine’s sharp, flexible legs clacked against the stone floor in enhanced speed until the split-open digger-beak pointed directly at the halfling.

  Her eyes widened. “Shit.”

  The machine leaped toward her, another round of green flames building from some mechanism within its inorganic core. Cheyenne sent the black tentacles of her magic lashing from her fingertips with one hand and curled them around two of the thing’s glinting legs. She managed to jerk it out of its leap toward her but had to throw up another shield when the green fireball erupted from the split metal beak. Both the fire and one of the machine’s flailing limbs hit the halfling’s shield with enough force to send her flying out of drow speed.

  Cheyenne sailed backward over the startled, confused crowd of Peridosh’s magical shoppers. Some of them were so focused on getting off their own attack spells that they didn’t notice the drow flying over their heads. Gritting her teeth, Cheyenne reached out with both hands and sent whipping black tendrils toward the beams of a storefront as she passed it. The tendrils curled around the high beams and held fast, jerking the halfling out of her trajectory and swinging her into the store’s front window.

  Glass shattered as she barreled through the side of the shop, skidded across tables covered in stacks of dusty old books, and finally stopped in a heap against a bookshelf on the far wall. A shower of books fell on her one by one until she shook her head and gathered her wits enough to stand.

  The shopkeeper, an old troll woman with purple skin so dark it was almost the slate-purple of a drow, stood from behind her desk. The pipe she’d been smoking was forgotten in her loose hand, thin lines of gray smoke curling up in front of her face.