by Martha Carr
“Well, she got another one this morning.”
Maleshi cocked her head. “Another one?”
“Rune. A new one burned into her skin right here.” The halfling tapped the center of her own chest. “L’zar said it’s the symbol for ‘vessel.’”
“So that’s where he is.” The general chuckled. “I was wondering what he decided to do with his suddenly wide-open schedule. It seemed a little odd the goblins were calling me from the warehouse asking about him.”
“Yeah, he’s filling it with hovering over my mom and terrorizing Eleanor.” At Maleshi’s confused frown, Cheyenne added, “The housekeeper.”
“Ah.” Maleshi sipped her mimosa, and the table fell silent again.
“You might wanna tell her about the whole vessel thing,” Ember prompted.
The halfling said, “Everyone’s talking about this stupid vessel, whatever it is. The Sorren Gán when we went to see it the other night. Venga was raving about it like a lunatic.”
“As he does.” Maleshi lifted her glass again.
“And I’ve had a few dreams with Neros in them.”
The general’s eyes widened. “Your cousin.”
“Yeah.”
“What were these dreams about?”
Cheyenne let out a heavy sigh and glanced at Ember as the fae took a long sip of her drink. “Basically, Neros looking almost as crazy as he did when he tried to get me to stay with him in Nor’ieth, only he was talking about the vessel too. That my work’s not done, and I can’t stop until I find the vessel and use it the way it’s supposed to be used. More jumbled prophetic bullshit in a dream, honestly. Nothing new.”
“And then the symbol appeared on your mom.”
“Right.”
Maleshi frowned in thought and nodded slowly. “Definitely sounds like it’s all connected.”
“That’s what I said.” Ember shrugged. “She doesn’t wanna hear it.”
“I didn’t say that.” Cheyenne shook her head. “I’m not gonna dive right into this, automatically thinking my mom’s way more involved than she has any right to be. Not because she has one new symbol burned into her that means the same thing I’ve been hearing from everyone else for the last couple days.”
The general studied her a moment and dipped her head. “It’s good to stay neutral about it, at the very least.”
“Any idea where I’m supposed to go from here?”
“Sorry, kid. I’m drawing a blank.”
“Right. Do you know anyone over here who might have an answer for me?”
“I mean, there’s always Gúrdu.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Fuck Gúrdu. I’m done with Oracles.”
“A sentiment I can get behind.” Maleshi raised her champagne flute to the halfling and took another sip.
“I need to find someone who specializes in curses or something, right? Know anyone like that?”
“Cheyenne, I came Earthside for a specific reason, and that was to cut myself off from my old life. Including fraternizing with other magicals over here. Gúrdu found me back in 1804 when I was… Well, that doesn’t matter. I’m the wrong magical to ask for a referral on this one.”
“Shit.” Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I can find someone in Peridosh.”
“That might be the best place to start.”
“What about Byrd and Lumil?” Ember asked. “Would they know anybody?”
The general snorted. “Those two wouldn’t know a bane-breaker from a healer. I highly doubt they’d be useful in finding anyone with the kind of specialty you’re looking for.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“So, we’re starting from scratch with this one, huh?” Cheyenne folded her arms and shook her head, staring at the table. “I guess I’ll have to make the crossing again in a few days and ask around Hangivol.”
“Venga might have some answers.”
“I’m not going to the scaleback necromancer who basically poisoned me to ask for advice on curing my mom.”
Maleshi blinked in surprise. “Poison.”
When Cheyenne pulled down the side of her shirt collar to reveal the unhealed dart wound and the black blight streaks, now twice as long as they used to be stretching across her skin, the general grimaced.
“I see. Then no, I wouldn’t go to him either unless it was the last option.”
“It’s definitely the last option. I haven’t run through all the others yet.”
“Sorry, I’m basically useless to you on this one.”
Cheyenne smiled. “Surprising, but I don’t blame you. I’ve got a lotta shit piling up on my plate all at the same time.”
“You know what always helps with a growing pile of shit on one’s plate?” Maleshi lifted her drink to her lips again and grinned. “Day-drinking. The offer still stands.”
“I went that route last night, Maleshi. Didn’t give me any answer, either. But thanks.”
“Any time.”
“Okay.” The halfling smacked her hands down on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “We’ll leave you to your Sunday fun.”
“Funday.” Ember frowned playfully. “You’ve never heard that one before?”
“I’m not a huge brunch person, I guess.”
“Fair enough.” The fae downed the rest of her drink, set it on the table, and floated out of the chair. “Thanks for the mimosa.”
“Always happy to drink with friends.” Maleshi stood too and nodded at the front of the house. “I’ll walk you out.”
By the time they reached the door, the general had cast her human-illusion again, replacing black fur and silver eyes with black curls, green eyes, and olive skin. She held open the door for her visitors to step out onto the front porch. “Thanks for stopping by. If you end up with any questions a little more specific than, ‘What do I do now?,’ give me a call.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The general walked with them down the driveway to Cheyenne’s car at the curb, her champagne flute raised at her side. She tilted her head to study the heavy scratches and unignorable dents on the Panamera’s side and front bumper and grimaced. “Your ride’s looking as beat up as you do.”
“Wow.” Cheyenne turned around to face her. “Did you forget what happened to it?”
Maleshi gave her a blank look, then sucked in a quick, surprised breath. “Right. It was me. I happened to your car.”
“You obviously care as much as you did the last time it was brought up.”
“Sorry, kid.” The general shrugged. “Still not on my priority list.”
“Uh-huh.” With a final glance at the dings on the Panamera’s shiny black body, Cheyenne shook her head and headed around the front of the car to the driver’s side door. “Oh, hey. We’re going after the colonel tomorrow. You want in on that?”
“Hmm. Tempting.” Maleshi raised her glass. “I’ll see how I feel about it tomorrow. How’s that?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Cheyenne opened the door and slid behind the wheel. I don’t get how she’s so blah about everything when we’re looking at taking out a huge chunk of the Bull’s Head in this world, but whatever.
“See ya,” Ember called before slipping into the passenger seat. Maleshi smiled and nodded and waved them off with her mimosa in her hand like a suburban mom waving goodbye to her kids heading off to school in the carpool. On a Sunday.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Back at their apartment, Cheyenne stepped out of her bedroom and headed for one of the black leather recliners. Ember sat on the couch and pored through the loose-leaf stack of Maleshi Hi’et’s spellbook. “What are you looking for in there?”
“Huh?” Ember blinked and looked up from the pages. “Oh. Figured I’d learn some new spells. And it couldn’t hurt to look for something about removing curses, right?”
Cheyenne flopped into the recliner and cranked the handle until her feet were propped up in front of her. “I’m pretty sure she would’ve told us to go through her book if it was in there.�
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“Really? You think she’s got enough space in her brain to remember everything she unloaded in a handwritten spellbook?”
“Fair point. I’ll cross my fingers, then.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Cheyenne pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and stared at the card in her hand.
“What’s that?”
“Card from that Lee guy I met at Union Hill. The auto restoration guy.”
Ember’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. You think he fixes nightstalker damage?”
“Ha. I’m gonna find out.” Cheyenne dialed the number on the card for Blast from the Past Auto Restoration, then lifted the phone to her ear. At the very least, I can leave a message and hope he’ll call me back when he’s open again.
She didn’t expect the line to click after the third ring or to hear the man’s voice on the other end.
“Lee McDurn.”
“Oh. Uh, hi.”
A soft chuckle came through the line. “Hi.”
“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to be open on a Sunday.”
“Ah, yes. Well, I keep my cell phone on me seven days a week. How can I help you?”
“Oh. Sorry to bother you.”
“Not a bother. It’s my business line too, so don’t worry about it. One of the perks of being technically retired, you know. I get to work all day every day if I want and answer incoming calls. No harm done.”
He put his cell number on his business card? Not the most legit way to do things, and I’m not making this conversation any less awkward. Cheyenne cleared her throat. “Okay. Uh, my name’s Cheyenne. Not sure if you remember me, but we met at Union Hill a few weeks ago, and you gave me your card. You had the ’37 Packard, and I had—”
“The brand-new Panamera. Yeah.” The man’s smile came through loud and clear in his voice. “Nice to hear from you, Cheyenne. How you doin’?”
“I’m all right. I was hoping you could help me out with some bodywork. The Panamera got a little dinged-up.”
“Ouch. Accident?”
“Yeah, accidentally trusting a friend of mine to take care of it for me when I was out of town for a few days.”
Lee sucked in a sharp breath, and she could practically see him grimacing in her mind’s eye. “One of the worst kinds of accidents. Sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“I’ll tell you what, Cheyenne. If you’re not busy today, why don’t you head on over and we’ll take a look?”
“Today?”
“Sure. I’m putzin’ around up here with a few other projects. Nothing serious. I’d love to see that car.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She flipped the business card over. “You don’t have an address on the card. Should I just Google it?”
“No, no. Don’t bother with all that.” Lee chuckled again. “I don’t mind handing out my phone number, but putting my home address out there for every knucklehead to find me didn’t seem like such a great idea.”
“Home address.”
“Yes, ma’am. Work outta one of my garages on the property. I promise it’s all legit.”
Cheyenne fought back a laugh. I’m taking my car to a hobbyist. Guess we’ll see how this pans out. “All right. I can’t get there without the address, though.”
“Well, of course not. You callin’ from a cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’ll text it to you. Don’t worry about droppin’ everything and rushin’ out here on my account. As long as you show up before seven, it’s all good. Any later, and you’ll have to turn around and come back tomorrow.”
She snorted. So I have eight hours to get there. “Not a problem.”
“Excellent. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you and that Porsche.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Lee hung up, and she got a text less than a minute later with an address. Not too far away.
“You know,” Ember said as she studied Maleshi’s spellbook, “you always miss half a conversation when someone’s on the phone, but that one sounded weird.”
Cheyenne flicked the business card before leaning forward to toss it onto the coffee table. “Kinda, yeah. The dude works out of his own garage, apparently. No business setup beyond a name on a business card.”
“Huh. And you’re still gonna go there instead of taking the car to an actual shop?”
The halfling gave her friend a playful frown. “That seems weird to you too?”
“I know how much you love the thing.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll give the guy a shot. He basically drooled over my car when we met, and he had this way-cool Packard with him that day. Purple. Chrome everywhere. The kinda stuff only people who love what they do put on cars that old.”
“Whatever.” Ember shook her head. “Car stuff goes right over my head.”
“Well, I have a feeling the guy knows what he’s doing, and he was cool. Didn’t look at me weird or say a single thing about my piercings, so I won’t have to deal with that bullshit, either.”
“Yeah, go with the car enthusiast who doesn’t judge a drow book by her Goth cover. Good plan.”
Playfully rolling her eyes, Cheyenne pushed the recliner’s footrest back into place and stood. “I think I’ll head out there. You good here? Need anything?”
Ember raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from the stack of paper on her lap. “Go fix your ride, Cheyenne.”
“Yeah, okay.” Cheyenne stepped to the side of her couch to grab the trenchcoat she’d draped over the armrest. Maybe this’ll take my mind off how much I hate waiting. It’s the little things, right? “See you in a few hours.”
“Yep.”
As the halfling headed for the door, someone out in the hall beat her to it. A loud, hasty knock came on the door, and Cheyenne opened it abruptly. Their neighbor Matthew Thomas stood on the other side, frowning and looking ridiculously uncomfortable as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“If this is about your alarm system and somebody hacking into your uncle’s computer, man, you’re beating a dead horse.”
Matthew blinked. “What?”
“I didn’t do it.”
“No, that’s not it.” He cleared his throat and tried to peer around her for a glance inside her apartment. “Can I come in?”
“Why?”
“It’s kind of important and fairly personal, and I don’t wanna have that kind of conversation in the hall.” Matthew glanced quickly up the hall at the elevators, but there wasn’t anyone else there.
“You worried about somebody accidentally taking the elevator all the way up here and overhearing us?”
“It happens. Sometimes.” Running a hand through his hair, Matthew shifted nervously from foot to foot and caught a glimpse of Ember inside. “Ember, please.”
“Take it up with Cheyenne.” The fae didn’t look up from the spellbook.
He sighed. “Please. I won’t take up a lot of time, but I need some help, okay?”
Cheyenne raised an eyebrow, stepped back, and swung the door open.
“Thanks.” Matthew hurried into their apartment, and the door shut a lot harder than it had to behind him.
Cheyenne turned around and leaned back against the door, folding her arms. “Make it fast, okay? I’ve got an appointment.”
He frowned at her, then shook his head. “Yeah, okay. Look, I don’t know what’s going on—all this crap with my uncle. I didn’t wanna believe what you were telling me. I admit that. But I did some digging on my own.”
“Oh, interesting. Find anything good?”
Matthew took a deep breath, his eyes growing wide. “No. That’s the part that’s freaking me out.”
Ember dropped the stack of paper into her lap and finally looked at him. “What did you find?”
“Nothing. I mean, it’s practically nothing, anyway. A superficial paper trail, and it’s clean. Normal. Shows him clocking in every day for the last fifteen years at a nine-to-five in Hillcrest. I thought I was done, but
then I found some numbers that didn’t add up, and an extra bank account I couldn’t get into, plus a backup system on the server I built for his home computer.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “You built your uncle his own personal server for home use?”
“Like you’re one to talk.” Matthew pointed at the mini loft. “You’ve got enough up there to power a whole company.”
“Who told you that?”
“My security system when it pinged me with your IP address. No, I didn’t hack into your stuff, but I saw enough to know you built your own server for home use too, okay? Not that weird of a thing for people like us.”
Yeah, except for I use mine to hack into places most people don’t even know exist. “Whatever, man. Why is this our problem?”
“Well, to start, I didn’t build him a backup system, not the one he has. And I couldn’t get into it.”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Looks like you’re too good at your job.”
“No, I mean someone used what I built him to double-down and make that backup server, and whatever they did, it was done with knowledge about the way I program to specifically keep me out.”
“Huh.” Ember folded her arms. “Sounds like your uncle didn’t want his cyber-security-whiz nephew spying on him.”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t add up. My uncle gave me full access to all his accounts, everything on his system, you name it, so I could build something better and integrate everything. I don’t know why he’s trying to hide it all from me now, and that extra bank account threw me off. I was hoping you could help me.”
Cheyenne raised her eyebrows and studied him for a moment, letting the guy fidget and squirm a little before she popped the question. “Help you with what?”
“Come on, Cheyenne.” Matthew couldn’t look at her as he gestured at the mini loft where she kept Glen and her server setup again. “Why else would I ask you for a favor?”
“I don’t know, Matthew. Seems a little presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”
“What?”
Ember shook her head. “You weren’t exactly jumping up and down to help us with a favor.”
“Yeah, but that was different.”
“Twice, right?” Cheyenne looked at Ember for confirmation.
