by Martha Carr
“Smells like breakfast, Em.”
“Right. And I realized we didn’t eat a single thing yesterday after breakfast.”
“Huh.” Pulling a hair tie from the pocket of her jacket, Cheyenne twisted her hair back into a loose bun and shrugged. “All the better to get wasted with, I guess.”
“Very funny. I will eat anything right now if it doesn’t run away.”
“You sure?” Cheyenne studied the closed door to their guest quarters as Ember quickly changed and collected her things too. “I told you about the last time I ate on this side, right?”
“Oh.” Ember straightened, her green backpack dangling from her fingers. “You mean that Jell-O shit with the eyes?”
“Yep. And that was the fancy food.”
The fae swallowed thickly and grimaced. “I take that back. I’ll eat anything that doesn’t watch me as I stick a fork into it. Wait, do they use forks here?”
“Kinda. Hey, did you see what L’zar did to get this door open last night?” Cheyenne pulled the activator out of her pocket and stuck it behind her ear, but the ensuing pinch and sync with her magic didn’t come. Of course not. We’re in a bunker of magic only, no tech. She dropped the silver coil back into her pocket and waved a hand over the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to open the damn door.” Cheyenne passed her hand over it again, then waved faster and finally dropped her hand on her thigh. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“Because you’re waving at a door.”
“You know, I could blast a hole in this thing right now, and we wouldn’t have to have this conversation.”
“Relax, Princess.”
Cheyenne snorted and folded her arms. “Don’t ever call me that.”
“Just testing it out to see if it sticks. I know it won’t.” Ember stopped beside the halfling with a grin and passed her hand in front of the door. It lit up with blue lines and slid into the wall. “You might be L’zar’s daughter, but you couldn’t pass as a thief in any world.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sleight of hand, Cheyenne.” Ember looked down at her left hand, her wrist pressed against her thigh as her fingers moved in a quick spellcasting gesture while she waved her hand in front of the door again.
It started to slide closed, and the halfling leaped forward. “Okay, I get it. You guys master spells easily.” She grabbed the edge of the sliding door with both hands and shoved it back into the wall with an echoing boom. A shower of stone chips and dust rained down around the doorway, and Cheyenne turned to her friend. “We all have different skills.”
Laughing, Ember rolled her eyes and followed Cheyenne down the semi-dark tunnel toward the bunker’s main room.
When they stepped through the arch into the huge chamber, Cheyenne’s mouth popped open. “They’re all awake. Working.”
Ember adjusted the straps of her backpack and stared at the dozens of magicals bustling around the chamber, stacking crates, passing plates piled high with food, packing, and unpacking who-knew-what. “How great would it be if hangovers didn’t exist in this world?”
Cheyenne chuckled when her gaze fell on the keg at the end of the black table, much larger than any from the night before. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Em. Smells like straight-up grog this morning.”
“Oh.” The fae’s shoulders sagged. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Did you drink too much last night too?”
“Definitely not. I was thinking about the future.”
Maleshi approached them from the other end of the table, her face buried in her upturned tankard as she gulped down the entire thing. She stopped in front of the young magicals, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and grinned. “Nothing like this O’gúl piss to get you moving again in the morning. You want some?”
Ember leaned away from the general. “O’gúl what?”
“Nah, it’s just grog. The real kind, not the shit I’ve heard about them serving in Peridosh.” Maleshi turned and slammed the tankard on the table. “Does the job right. I heard you, by the way. We still get hangovers on this side, but the hangover cures are hard to beat.”
Cheyenne eyed the nightstalker woman. “Yeah, you’re looking peppy.”
“Thank you very much.” Maleshi gave her a goofy little bow. “You two enjoy yourselves last night?”
“In weird ways, yeah.”
Ember pointed at the general and cocked her head. “You definitely had fun.”
Maleshi picked her teeth with an extended claw and shrugged. “I guess it was a long time coming. I’d like to say I got it out of my system. I’m back, which I never thought would happen. Just making the most of a weirdly nostalgic situation. There’s breakfast over there if you want any.”
“Does it have eyes?”
The general snorted. “Not that I know of.”
“Perfect.”
Ember elbowed Cheyenne in the side and muttered through clenched teeth, “Ask her.”
“What?”
“Ask her about the thing.”
Maleshi turned her wide, glowing silver eyes on the fae girl and grinned. “I’m standing right here, Ember.”
Ember glared at the halfling until Cheyenne stepped back and gestured at the general with both hands. The fae girl asked, “Okay, fine. Is that thing real?”
Maleshi glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. “I don’t follow.”
Ember pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes when Cheyenne didn’t step in to help her. “The fancy skull cup. That was, like, a symbol or something, right?”
“Oh.” The general threw her head back and laughed. “No, that’s a very real skull from a very dead magical.”
Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets and nodded. “Let me guess. His name was Dahal. Don’t look that surprised. You said it like five times last night.”
“Caught me.” Maleshi gave them an exaggerated grin. “He was my mentor once upon a time. One of the fiercest warriors I’ve ever met, and he taught me almost everything I know. The rest of it I taught myself, and that’s why he’s dead. Any other questions?”
Ember swallowed. “Nope. That about sums it up for me.”
“Great. Get some food while you can. When we head out of here, we’re going in style.”
“That’s right!” Byrd straightened from where he crouched over a plate of food and slurped something noodle-like into his mouth before pumping a fist. “General Hi’et’s finally getting her warlord’s procession!”
“Shut up.” Lumil shoved the goblin man in the back and Byrd stumbled forward, his arms outstretched to keep his breakfast on his plate.
Maleshi raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what we’re doing.”
“Sure it is.” Corian lugged a crate toward the other side of the bunker and grinned at them as he passed. “The O’gúleesh in Hangivol need to see their hero return.”
“Uh, no. If anyone’s the hero, it’s Cheyenne.”
The halfling pointed at her and shook her head. “Don’t put that shit on me.”
Maleshi laughed. “No procession for this warlord. I had my fun yesterday.”
Jara’ak dusted off his hands after moving another crate and leered at the general from the other side of the bunker. “Should’ve known so many centuries on Earth would make you soft, Maleshi. You won’t even take your moment, huh? It’s gotta be shoved down your throat instead.”
The general scowled at him. “Okay, fine.”
“The Blade of the Unseen Eye returns to raze the streets of Hangivol!” The rebel who’d raised the cry ducked behind a group of magicals gathered around the breakfast spread, but they all echoed the cheer with grins and pumped fists.
Maleshi rolled her eyes. “I’m done listening to these idiots. Eat. Then we’re getting the hell out of this place.”
“Not a fan of long periods underground, huh?” Corian chuckled as he headed back toward them.
“Says the nightstalker who cou
ld’ve set himself anywhere in the world and chose an unfinished basement apartment with concrete walls.” The general put her hands on her hips and stared after him with a raised eyebrow when he walked past. “That’s right. It didn’t take me long to find your not-so-secret lair, vae shra’ni.”
Corian laughed but didn’t continue the banter.
“I need more grog.” Maleshi snatched up her tankard and spun toward the far end of the table, wagging her finger between Cheyenne and Ember. “I’m serious. Eat something. You’re gonna need it.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “She almost sounds like how I imagine most people’s moms talk to their kids. I’ll know there’s something wrong when she starts telling us to wash our hands and not to play with fire or knives.” Snorting at her joke, she turned toward Ember. “What’s wrong with you?”
“She killed her own mentor.” Ember grimaced. “And she drinks out of his skull.”
“Nightstalkers, right?” Shrugging, Cheyenne headed toward the other side of the bunker and the strong scents of something at the very least edible rising from a table against the wall. “Still a good idea to eat, though.”
“Is it? Is it really? ‘Cause now I’m expecting to be handed a fork made from the bones of their enemies.”
The halfling grinned. “That would be cool as hell.”
Chapter Nine
Half an hour later, the surviving rebels of the Four-Pointed Star surged through the huge iron double doors out of the bunker and headed toward the upper levels of the capital. The stone halls echoed with their shouts and rowdy laughter, jests flying through the air as the magicals speculated on what they’d find when they reached the surface. Cheyenne found herself caught up in the excitement, not caring where they were headed first as the cheering, shouting rebels swept her along in the center of the procession.
They made their way through the underground tunnels beneath the city, passing the occasional pocket of O’gúleesh citizens meeting privately where others were least likely to look for them. Some groups cheered and launched spells through the tunnels in celebration, making everyone duck and call out jests about fighting each other after the Crown came crashing down. Some of the wayward groups even joined the procession, squeezing in on the sides and filling the passages even tighter with bodies crammed against magical bodies.
Everywhere, the whispers traveled through the halls, both toward the boisterous procession and away from it.
“It’s Maleshi.”
“General Hi’et. She’s back.”
“Endaru smiles on the Blade of the Unseen Eye.”
Cheyenne’s drow hearing picked up the fading echoes of surprise and awe the other magicals thought they were keeping hidden from the unwieldy parade. They love their bloodthirsty nightstalker warlord, don’t they? Good to keep in mind.
Whether L’zar opened the blocked tunnels to them or someone else at the front of the line guided their procession, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter by the time the swelling river of sweaty, shouting, enlivened magicals burst through the final opening into the open air of one of Hangivol’s outer circular levels.
Cheyenne paused beneath the pale gray glow of light muted by the dome around the city. Howling, roaring, cackling magicals streamed around her out of the tunnel, shouting and pumping their fists and sending magical bursts into the air as they followed the procession.
The lower levels of the capital were filled with chaos.
L’zar wasn’t kidding about O’gúl riots.
Hangivol’s citizens streamed through the open, crowded, dirty square, drinking and fighting each other, dancing and racing through the streets and in and out of buildings. From the rooftops of high-rise metal buildings around them came the clanging of at least a dozen magicals pounding on some kind of metal drums. Spells flew through the air like fireworks, most of them without aim or purpose.
A crackling ball of blue flames soared over the crowd from an upper level of one of the tall buildings and headed straight for Cheyenne. She stepped quickly aside and spun to watch the flames bash into a storefront on the street level right next to where they’d emerged from the tunnels. A second blue fireball careened into a metallic window two levels above, and the halfling whirled again to face the attacker. “Hey!”
“Relax, kid.” Lumil’s green hand came down on Cheyenne’s shoulder and the goblin woman laughed, tossing her hair out of her yellow eyes. “Take a little time to check things out. I promise no one’s getting hurt in all this. Not unless they want to. Ha!” With an exaggerated wink, Lumil removed her hand and went marching after the rest of the procession. She took off at a run when she saw two other magicals starting to fight each other, wanting to get in on the action.
“Check things out?” Cheyenne walked hesitantly after the procession and looked over her shoulder at the first storefront hit by the blue flames. Nothing was on fire, no windows or doorways destroyed, and the orange flash of protective wards reinforced by O’gúl technology faded into nothing. “Oh.”
Ember floated up behind her with a wide grin. “You look way too interested in a shop. Fine, I can’t read the symbols on that sign, but whatever it is, it can’t be nearly as awesome as whatever’s happening right now.”
“They warded all the shops,” Cheyenne muttered.
“Okay. Come on.”
The halfling picked up the pace beside Ember and got a better look at the other unintended targets of wayward spells as the procession grew with every block they passed. “Em, when you hear ‘riots,’ what do you think of?”
“I don’t know. Burning buildings and people breaking stuff and going insane. Maybe cops.”
“Yeah. That’s not happening here.”
“You didn’t expect the police to show up on this side when you challenged the Crown, did you?” Ember snorted and wiped the smile off her face when she caught her friend’s exasperated glance. “Come on, it’s funny.”
“L’zar said there would be riots. I think this is it.”
“Huh. Doesn’t look very riot-y to me.”
Cheyenne grinned. “I know. They’re not rioting against the city, just everything it stands for. You see any metal balls flying around?”
“Like the kind you fought at the binding ceremony?”
“Yep. That kind.”
Ember looked at the high-rises and laughed at a group of magicals dancing on the rooftops. “Not one.”
“The whole city shut down to keep itself running while the O’gúleesh flood the streets and party.”
“I feel like that would be forever ago.”
“Probably.”
They quickly caught up with the main body of the procession, where the rebels had taken up some other battle song and were shouting it at the tops of their lungs. Citizens of every race flooded the main avenue from within shops and homes and dark alleys between buildings, all to get a glance at Maleshi Hi’et.
“Look where they’re going!” An orc standing in the doorway of a darkened building grinned at his neighbor and pointed farther up the square.
“To Vedrosha!”
“Maleshi Hi’et’s heading for Vedrosha!”
The metallic drumbeats grew faster and louder as the procession picked up the pace. Cheyenne grunted when a wide-eyed, snarling troll knocked into her on his way up the parade. Ember floated sideways to avoid the halfling barreling into her too. “Persh’al didn’t happen to show you this Vedrosha by any chance, did he?”
“Didn’t even mention it.” Cheyenne tried to peer over the heads of the magicals in front of her but couldn’t see a thing. “We’re about to find out.”
It was impossible to tell from inside the lower-level ring that the buildings stopped as suddenly as they did about a mile inside the outer wall rising around the city. Cheyenne’s eyes widened when she stepped from beneath the looming shadows of the buildings into the only wide-open space she’d seen in Hangivol.
“So we found out.” Ember folded her arms and frowned at the celebrating magica
ls leaping and running about. The rest of the procession headed to the left across the bare ground, with nothing between them and the curving shield dome signifying the outer line of the capital. “It looks like a giant parking lot.”
“No, the parking garage is outside the wall and underground.”
Ember laughed. “Wait, are you serious?”
“Yep. The walls ate our ride and everything.”
“This place keeps throwing punches left and right.”
Cheyenne smiled and nodded toward the crowd gathering around one section of the open ground. “Come on. I gotta see what they’re pulling out next. There’s nothing here.”
“Okay. I’m gonna call it.” Ember floated along beside her friend, unable to keep her smile from widening at the sight of so many O’gúleesh dancing and whooping in the open space, clinking tankards together and jostling each other in excitement. Somewhere behind them, the drummers had come down from the rooftops and now approached. “They’re gonna build a giant bonfire and burn everything that makes them think of the Crown.”
“Right. That would pretty much be the entire city, and it’s made of metal.”
Ember shrugged. “Fine. Debunked. Do you have a better guess?”
“Nope.”
The drumming grew louder and closer behind them, but Cheyenne couldn’t see the magicals approaching through the crowd, which had doubled in size in the last two minutes. She did, however, get an open view of Maleshi standing on a large square of metal that was much lighter and cleaner-looking than the ground around it.
The general spread her arms and lifted her chin. “We’re here to take back what has always been ours!”
A cheer rose from the crowd, magicals roaring and cramming closer together to get a better look.
“Come on.” Cheyenne grabbed Ember’s wrist and practically pulled her through the crowd. It surprised her to find a path opening up in front of her when the O’gúleesh saw the drow girl in the black trenchcoat, followed by the fae girl hovering an inch off the ground. Do they know who I am already? Not the halfling part. That would make this a whole different kind of crowd.
