by Martha Carr
“Oh, that’s right.” Ember rolled her eyes. “You should’ve spent more time learning the language so you could’ve picked up on all the secret messages. I bet there’s a whole section on O’gúl history at the library.”
Cheyenne gently elbowed her friend in the side and kept walking.
The fae girl squinted in thought and glanced slowly around the square. “And I’m just noticing for the first time how weird it is that everybody here speaks English with random O’gúleesh tossed in.”
“Huh.” Cheyenne blinked at the realization. “Guess we’ll have to ask about that one.”
When they reached another wide archway of dark, shimmering metal on the other side of the square, L’zar spun again to face the gathered drow. They still pounded in unison. The slow, steady rhythm vibrated through the ground and the air, and Cheyenne clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from feeling like they were rattling around in her head.
“Brothers! Sisters!” L’zar spread his arms, his golden eyes wide and glowing with a sharper light than usual. “A new Cycle turns in fourteen days. Be ready for the end. I know I am.”
A collective, wordless shout rose from the other drow, and L’zar took a deep breath as he grinned at his people paying tribute to him right outside the Crown’s lair. Both hands shot up to his head as his long, slender fingers smoothed the hair away from the sides of his face and his forehead. Then he spun smartly again and raised his eyebrows at Cheyenne, gesturing toward the arch. “This is the beginning, Cheyenne. There’s so much more than what you’ve seen.”
Cheyenne glanced at the dozens of drow keeping up the pounding rhythm on the metal walls. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“Not in the slightest.” L’zar leaned farther toward the dark archway and waited for Cheyenne and Ember to pass through ahead of him. “I’d be quite disappointed if you were.”
Chapter Two
The passage leading through the wall around the Crown’s inner city containing nothing but drow subjects was so long, Cheyenne couldn’t see the other end of it. The noise coming from both ends of the dark tunnel was quietest at the very center, though she was more focused on the erratic flashes of yellow and blue light streaking through patterned grooves in the tunnel’s walls and ceiling. “What’s that?”
L’zar gazed at the blips. “No activator to answer that question for you?”
“I don’t need it for everything. Unless you have no idea, and I should write you off as clueless.”
The drow laughed and ran a hand along the grooved wall. “You’re still in a touchy mood, I see.”
“I just found out I’m the O’gúl Crown’s niece and that I have to come back here in two weeks to order her off the throne of a world she’s been poisoning for who knows how long.” Cheyenne cocked her head and shoved both hands into her jacket pockets. “’Touchy’ is a bit of an understatement.”
“Let it go for now.” His voice was surprisingly soft when he said it, and she almost turned to look at him in surprise. Then he chuckled and slapped a hand on the wall, which resulted in a cracking echo up and down the tunnel. “You’ve earned your right to feel however the hell you want, Cheyenne, but moping about it is a waste of everyone’s time. I’m not a fan.”
“Sure, let me just change my moods to suit you.”
L’zar gave her a small, amused smile and pointed at the flashing lights along the ceiling. “And that, by the way, is the city code rewriting itself.”
“Wait, what?”
He nodded once and clasped his hands behind his back. “All part of the interim hold on magic if you will. The Crown’s preparing in whatever way she can for your next meeting in two weeks. So are all her marvelously expendable subjects. Her words, once upon a time. And this is Hangivol, the most technologically advanced city and the heart of Ambar’ogúl, preparing for the new Cycle.”
Cheyenne gazed at the crackling flashes across the otherwise dark surface. The activator’s staying in my pocket for now. I don’t think I could handle reading a bunch of crap about myself, if that’s even included.
The metallic banging coming from the drow inner city behind them faded, replaced by a growing ruckus from up ahead. Cheers, shouts, bawdy laughter, and much more chaotic pounding in sporadic bursts came from whatever circular level they were about to enter at the end of the slightly declining tunnel. “Why do they do that?”
“I know you understand what a celebration is, despite the fact that I haven’t yet seen you participate in one.”
She gave her father a deadpan stare, and he shrugged before turning away from her. “I’m talking about all that banging. They did it at Rez 38 and then in Peridosh. You did it the day I came to talk to you about—”
“The traitor in the FRoE, yes.” L’zar’s head bobbed from side to side as strange, ululating O’gúleesh music filtered through the tunnel toward them. “It’s a sign of immense respect, Cheyenne. They’re paying tribute.”
“To me?”
“Unless they’re staring at someone else while they’re doing it, yes.”
She frowned at the bright end of the tunnel quickly approaching. I guess all the Earthside O’gúleesh won’t have much of a problem with me ruling over there. If I even do. Seems like they already approve.
When they stepped out of the tunnel and into the dazzling light reflecting off every bright, shining surface, Cheyenne recognized Upper Tech. It wasn’t the same courtyard she’d visited with Persh’al, but it was definitely the same district. And the people here were unhinged.
Magicals of every race danced in the glistening streets, their fine jewelry and expensive clothing whirling around them in bright flashes and ridiculous patterns. An incredibly tall, thin woman with skin the lightest shade of pale blue and four arms twirled between high-flying leaps, slamming her hand against a metal bench every time her bare, hand-shaped feet touched the ground. An orc with a high, stiff collar on his black dinner jacket and five gold rings inlaid in each tusk swung his head from side to side, kicking the metal walls of a building in rhythm to the strange music.
Expensive scarves and capes swirled in a kaleidoscope of shimmering patterns as the once entirely proper denizens of Upper Tech danced and whooped and roared in victory.
Cheyenne straightened, glancing back and forth across the square at the maddened celebration. “This place was a lot different the last time I was here.”
Ember backed away from a goblin who lunged toward her, his tongue hanging out of his open, grinning mouth as he shook his head wildly and snatched the odd-shaped top hat that was split down the middle off his head. The fae girl widened her eyes as he cackled and whirled away again, throwing his weird hat into the air, not caring where it landed as he danced across the square. “What was it like last time?”
“Like everyone had a stick up their ass.”
Ember chuckled wryly. “Maybe the sticks finally made it up to their brains.”
“That does sound like an accurate assessment.”
“L’zar!” A skaxen man wearing a sparkling green bodysuit limped toward them, spreading his arms in greeting. “Took you long enough, eh? We all thought you’d been rotting in the ground for the last two hundred years.”
L’zar gave the skaxen a tight-lipped smile as they passed. “That’s hardly long enough to cause concern.”
The skaxen did a little jig in his delight, his bad leg making him look like he was trying to skip on one leg as he shook his clawed orange fists in the air and kept dancing.
Cheyenne forced herself to look away and caught up with L’zar. “Who was that?”
He looked slightly over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at the dancing magicals. “I have no idea.”
Ember floated beside them, unable to decide between frowning at the strange celebration or laughing at it. “You know, after everything I’ve heard about the shitty direction things have taken over here, I honestly expected this place to look a lot worse. Is the whole city like this?”
L’zar barked a la
ugh. Cheyenne ignored him and shook her head. “No, Em. Upper Tech’s like Windsor Farms, with slightly more sticks up asses.”
“Okay.” Bobbing her head, Ember gazed around and blinked against the glare reflecting off the glittering white metallic surfaces everywhere. “So, this is the fancy level without drow.”
“Pretty much.”
L’zar turned toward another tunnel leading out of Upper Tech and paused when a fae man with violet skin and dark-blue hair falling over his shoulders floated into their path. Ember took a sharp breath and stared at the first of her kind she’d seen in this world, but she quickly covered her surprise.
“You shouldn’t have returned.” The fae man’s expressionless face and his calm, even tone were totally at odds with the celebratory air spilling through Upper Tech, and his shimmering violet eyes were cold. “Nothing good will come of this.”
The prodigal drow pointed at the fae and squinted. “I’m trying to place your name.”
“The last thing I’m giving you is my name, thief.”
“If we’re throwing names around, I prefer ‘Weaver’ while I’m here.” L’zar spread his arms and offered the fae man a flashing grin. “Cu’ón does fairly well too.”
The fae man pointed across the square in no particular direction but away from the tunnel he currently blocked.
L’zar chuckled. “Come now, that’s not very celebratory. If not for me, you can at least step aside for the Aranél, can’t you?”
The only reply he received was a slow blink from the fae’s luminous eyes and a highly judgmental glance up and down.
The drow thief winked at the fae, then stepped aside and gestured for his daughter to enter the tunnel. “Cheyenne.”
She studied the fae man, who only gave her a brief and dismissive glance, then looked at the rest of the dancing square again. I’m not about to start fighting magicals who don’t appreciate L’zar Verdys in their city. “There’s more than one way out of this level.”
“No.” L’zar’s grin disappeared, and his golden gaze bored into the fae’s violet eyes. “You step aside for no one, Cheyenne. Not today. Enter the tunnel.”
The warning in her father’s voice sent an involuntary shiver down the halfling’s spine. She exchanged a quick glance with Ember and blinked slowly. We’re doing things differently than the last time I was here.
“Excuse us.” Cheyenne nodded at the fae man and slipped around him into the bright tunnel leading out of the district square.
Ember followed, smiling briefly at the other magical until the fae man turned his gaze on her and narrowed his eyes. She swallowed and raised her eyebrows as she floated past him into the tunnel.
L’zar dipped his head toward the fae, a smile flickering across his lips before he followed his daughter and her Nós Aní. The blue-haired fae turned slowly to watch the trio make their way down the tunnel and out of the upper level beyond the drow inner city. His silver-slippered feet didn’t touch the ground once.
When L’zar caught up to walk at Cheyenne’s side again, she shot him a sidelong glance. “Apparently, not everyone’s happy to see the rebel Weaver return to Ambar’ogúl.”
“That brooding fae is one of the outliers. I think.” L’zar shrugged. “It doesn’t mean he’s loyal to the current Crown or that he won’t celebrate the new Cycle when it turns. The second he steps inside his opulent quarters on the top floor of some high-rise penthouse, he’ll be dancing himself into a purple fae sweat.”
Ember leaned forward to look at him. “So why’d he try to block us?”
“Not us, just me.” L’zar brushed his hair away from his face with a nonchalant chuckle. “I probably did something a thousand years ago to piss him off, and he’s still holding a grudge. That happens a lot.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Doesn’t sound like he’s just ‘one of the outliers,’ then.”
“I’m talking about total numbers in Ambar’ogúl, Cheyenne.” The drow lifted his chin with a sneer and clasped his hands behind his back as they moved through the tunnel. This one also sparked and crackled with visible light in the grooves in the walls. “Most of the magicals here are only too happy to see change, even if it comes merely because I stepped back over the Border from the human realm you and I love so much.”
The halfling’s eyes widened, but she kept walking straight ahead without turning to look at him. “They don’t like that you were over there for so long.”
“Mostly, they don’t like that I was over there at all. Or that anyone goes Earthside, though it’s been happening for as long as any of us can remember. By the way, let’s keep that little nugget of truth to ourselves for the time being.”
Cheyenne glanced at the flashing ceiling of the tunnel in exasperation. “And what little nugget is that?”
“The one about where you come from. It’s not common knowledge, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.” L’zar hummed a humorless chuckle. “We have to approach it gently when the time is right.”
“Oh, yeah? As gently as you approached barging through the Heart so I could throw myself off a balcony for that stupid coin?”
“Naturally. That’s about as gentle as we get, isn’t it?” He shot her another grin and raised his eyebrows.
Cheyenne shook her head. More secrets about who I am. I guess it’s better to be keeping them this time instead of being the clueless one.
“Stop.” The urgency in L’zar’s voice made Cheyenne and Ember spin to look back down the tunnel. He ignored their surprise and reached a hand straight out in front of him, eyes wide, before whirling around and slapping his hand against the wall on their left. The tunnel echoed with the smack of flesh on metal, then the wall flashed yellow light. A section of metal burst out of the wall two inches in front of Cheyenne and Ember, making them both jump back before a hollow clang signaled the sliding metal hitting the other side of the tunnel and blocking them.
Cheyenne glared at her drow father, who merely grinned and stepped away from the wall he’d slapped, hands clasped behind his back again. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Testing my memory.” He scanned the ceiling and the solid obstacle in front of them. “I’d step back if I were you.”
Ember quickly did as he said, and Cheyenne narrowly avoided dropping through the hole that opened in the floor a second later. She leaped away, slamming a hand against the wall to steady herself as the metal floor shifted and folded in tiny clinking squares. When the movement stopped, the trio found themselves standing at the opening of a short stairwell leading into the underbelly of the city.
The halfling peered down the dark staircase. “A heads-up would have gone a long way, you know?”
“I told you to step back.”
“Yeah, after you almost took my face off when you cut the tunnel in half.”
L’zar clicked his tongue. “The surprise is half the fun.”
“Okay, agree to disagree.” She gestured toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go ahead and meet all the other surprises first, huh?”
“With pleasure.” The drow thief stepped forward with a little jig, gave his daughter a mocking bow, and headed briskly down the staircase.
Ember bit her lip to stifle a chuckle and shrugged when Cheyenne shot her a warning look. “At least his memory works.”
“I’m not sure I trust that either.” With a snort, Cheyenne stepped down after her father, followed closely by Ember. The second the fae girl’s head descended below the level of the tunnel’s floor, the small metal squares unfolded and sealed themselves back up to cover the hole in the floor. Cheyenne glanced at the ceiling. Why do I feel like he doesn’t have any idea where we’re going?
Chapter Three
L’zar led them through a confusing series of twisting corridors and descending stairwells. Twice, they passed open chambers where magicals had gathered under Hangivol’s various city levels in private. The first time, L’zar paused outside the chamber entrance and gave the three ogres inside a full bow, sweeping low over the
upturned toe of his forward foot.
None of the ogres were amused by his antics. The closest one glared into the corridor and snarled before waving a huge, thickly scarred hand at the chamber entrance. A metal door slid out of the wall and cut off L’zar’s view of the room with a sharp clang.
“Hmm.” He chuckled and kept moving. “I expected more of a reaction.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “You almost sound disappointed.”
“You know, I just might be.”
The second chamber they passed was visible only through a narrow slit in the wall, but the magicals’ enraged voices filtering through it into the corridor made it easy for Cheyenne and L’zar to pinpoint where this second gathering was held. The halfling noticed the narrow opening in the passage wall immediately. Nobody considers drow hearing down here when all the drow have been living the high life in the inner city.
“I say we put an end to this now!” A hissing, snarling skaxen woman pounded a fist into her clawed hand. “I won’t stand for seeing that low-life piece of nilsch úcat scum sitting on the throne when the Cycle turns.”
L’zar came to a silent stop in the narrow underground passage when he heard those words. He cocked his head toward the slit in the wall and turned that way.
“Shut your mouth, Raesh.” A huge magical stepped in front of the opening and blocked the rest of the chamber from view. “That’s bordering on treason, and you know it.”
Cheyenne wrinkled her nose at the stench of rotting meat and body odor that wafted into the passage. She looked at L’zar and pointed down the hall.
The drow lifted a finger for her to wait and faced the chamber opening, folding his arms while listening intently to the argument.
“It’s only treason once the new Cycle turns, Folreg,” the skaxen hissed in reply. “You were singing prettily about the unending rule three days ago. Don’t tell me you’re changing your tune now.”
