by Martha Carr
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Foltr patted the general’s arm and nodded. “If there were survivors, Maleshi, they would most likely be there. And yes, they might be uncomfortable with our presence.”
“Uncomfortable?” The nightstalker woman closed her eyes. “You know that’s not the way those raugs see it.”
“They will see past what you have done as Hand of the Night and Circle, hinya.” Foltr nodded and thumped his staff on the ground. “They will not forget, but they will understand.”
Lumil snorted. “Yeah. Raugs understand with their fists.”
“Just like you, eh?” Foltr pointed the end of his stick at her legs. “Don’t make me use this.”
“I’ve been to Hirúl Breach,” Corian muttered, giving Maleshi an apologetic smile. “It’s a good idea, and it’ll help us, whether or not they enjoy a visit from General Hi’et.”
Maleshi grimaced. “Fine. What’s done is done, and everyone’s made up their minds.”
Corian nodded. “I’ll open a portal.”
Foltr looked at him. “You can port that far, eh?”
“I’ve connected two spaces a lot farther apart than that, Grandfather,” Corian said, “Though I’d be a lot more comfortable with it if we got away from this cave first. The last thing I want is a Sorren Gán feeding on my trail.”
“Excellent point. It would follow you and ask for more.” L’zar chuckled and stepped out of the bowl-shaped clearing to trudge through the slowly thickening forest on the other side. “Things are already looking up. I can feel it.”
Cheyenne nudged Maleshi with her elbow. “I don’t need to know the details, but if I got sacrificed on purpose to make a point, I’m pretty sure you can handle a few raugs who recognize you and might hold a grudge.”
The general scoffed. “You just keep broadening your horizons, don’t you, kid? Here’s hoping you’re right.” Maleshi stalked after the others, and Cheyenne sighed.
Ember leaned toward her. “Talk about mood swings.”
“Right? I think I understand a little better where they’re coming from now.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I mean, most of it’s still ‘cause he’s losing his mind, but there’s a reason for that too.”
Ember folded her arms and eyed the halfling. “When we get more than a minute, you have a hell of a lot to tell me, don’t you?”
“More than I can even think about right now, Em.” Cheyenne stepped onto the lip of earth above the clearing and headed after the others. “I might need a little more time to sort it all out in my head.”
“Sure. While you’re doing that, how’s your face?”
Cheyenne snorted. “You hit like a fae.”
“Huh. I have no idea if that was a compliment, but thanks.”
“It definitely was.” The halfling cast her friend a sidelong glance. “Good thing I have you to slap some sense into me, right?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here. Friends don’t let friends kill their crazy-ass fathers.”
“Ha. Hopefully it won’t be a thing again, but you might have to remind me of that once or twice.”
Ember raised her hand and shook it in a goofy wave. “I’ll be ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
After a half-hour hike through the mountains, Corian stopped to open a portal for them into Hirúl Breach. They stepped through the dark window of light and found themselves on a stone plateau at the edge of a mountainous canyon. Natural rock walls stretched high all around them, and in the center was Hirúl Breach.
“Well.” Foltr frowned at the rising towers of stone and dark metal tech. “The place has certainly changed since I last came through.”
Corian nodded slowly. “Tell me about it.”
“For a tribe opposed to technological advancements, I’d say they’re doing pretty well for themselves.” L’zar bowed to Foltr and gestured toward the wide staircase carved into the stone of the plateau, which descended to the front gates of the city. “How about now, Grandfather?”
“If it gets you to stop making a mockery of yourself, Weaver, I’ll lead the fell-damn way.” Foltr thumped his cane with each step as he approached the staircase, and the party moved from their vantage point toward the raug city below.
“Not sure what he means by technological advancement,” Cheyenne muttered. “There’s tech here, but it’s not like anything in Hangivol.”
Corian looked at her over his shoulder. “For Hirúl Breach, it’s a huge step forward. They’re stonemasons, or at least they were. Looks like they’ve taken it upon themselves to add old-world tech to the mix. The buildings are a lot higher, and they have front gates this time, so it must be doing something for them.”
Ember peered over Corian’s head to look down at the whirring, rumbling machines of black metal rolling slowly across the open area in front of the gates. “Old-world tech as in war machines?”
“Same look, different purpose.” Corian chuckled. “It’s pretty ingenious of them. The Crown can’t hack into their machines with her fancy new gadgets that won’t sync up. They’ve made themselves as autonomous as anyone can get out here.”
“They’re protecting themselves.” Cheyenne eyed the machine of black, glistening metal passing in front of them when they reached the bottom of the staircase. That one looks way too much like those diggers.
“That’s what it looks like, doesn’t it?” Maleshi gazed at the high metal gates in front of them. “And they built a city.”
“A trade city, looks like,” Corian said, “It wouldn’t house nearly as many magicals, but if something did happen to Hangivol, we might be looking at the runner-up for a new capital.”
L’zar scoffed. “Right. Everyone in Hangivol will throw out their activators and come swarming out here to live in the dark ages of O’gúl tech. Brilliant analysis.” He thumped the back of his hand against Corian’s chest and shook his head. “Hangivol will be fine.”
“Sure.”
“Salut!” The gruff shout came from atop one of the towers beside the gate. “Qui êtes vous?”
Foltr extended a hand toward the traveling party and nodded. “Let me speak to them first, eh? Just a few minutes, and I’ll get us inside.”
Cheyenne and the others waited halfway between the bottom of the stairs and Hirúl Breach’s front gates.
“A word, brothers!” Foltr shouted at the towers.
A lot of banging and clanking came from within the gates, then a door opened at the base of the tower, and two raugs in matching gray uniforms marched out to meet with the old magical wielding his trusty staff.
Cheyenne cocked her head as she listened to the conversation. The only words she could pick out were Aranél and Cu’ón, but she recognized the language. She turned toward Maleshi and pointed at the raugs. “Are they speaking French?”
“Ouí.” The general chuckled at Cheyenne’s confusion. “Don’t tell me you never wondered why a separate world full of magic and every race under the sun except the human race was full of magicals speaking English.”
“Of course I wondered.” Cheyenne folded her arms. “I guess I figured it was because of the portals or something. I don’t know. You guys travel back and forth all the time, don’t you?”
Corian snorted. “Only some of us, kid.”
Maleshi shot him an exasperated glance but couldn’t help a smile. “It has something to do with the portals, sure. Our worlds are connected. Nobody can argue that. Very few O’gúleesh magicals speak the old O’gúleesh tongue day-to-day, minus the few colorful words thrown in for fun.”
“So, what? Everyone just speaks English and French instead?”
“Try all Earth languages.” With his hands clasped behind his back, L’zar wiggled his eyebrows at his daughter and grinned. “Earthside portals exist all over the world. It wouldn’t make sense if we only spoke English and French over here, now would it?”
Cheyenne shook her head in disbelief. “How long has this been
a thing?”
Corian shrugged. “As long as the portals, I assume. It’s anyone’s guess.”
“The only pure O’gúleesh language still intact is our alphabet.” Maleshi chuckled and stared wistfully across the small courtyard in front of the gates. “Let me tell ya, kid, it took me a hell of a lot longer than I expected to nail down reading and writing after I made the crossing. Just one of those things you don’t think much about when you’re abandoning your post and a dying world to start over fresh.”
Ember slid her hands down her cheeks and let out a surprised chuckle. “Raugs speaking French. Now I’ve seen it all. What else is there?”
Corian smiled at her. “The Golra have a fluent understanding of almost every Chinese dialect.”
Cheyenne barked a laugh, then cleared her throat. “Nu’ek too?”
“Probably.”
Foltr nodded at the raug guards and turned slowly toward the group, shambling back with his staff clicking on the stone.
L’zar dipped his head toward the ancient magical. “Well?”
“It’s a start.” Foltr looked at Ember and raised his thick brows over wrinkled eyelids. “They need your help.”
“My help?” Ember glanced at the others. “You’re not talking about just me.”
“Yes. Just you.” Foltr grumbled something unintelligible, then looked at Maleshi. “They don’t want us here. Especially you, General.”
“They recognized me, huh?”
“Yes. They also made it perfectly clear they have ended all ties with the capital and whatever fate befalls it.” He lifted a crooked gray finger at Ember. “But they need you.”
“To do what?”
“They need a fae. A healer. There’s a dying raug inside those gates who stands to meet the final deathflame far before his time. If you can save him, these gates will open for all of us. They’ll give us a warm raug welcome, and we can sit down with whomever we like to discuss how they can help us.”
L’zar chuckled. “’Warm raug welcome?’ There’s a term you don’t hear every day.”
“If it didn’t exist before, it will after this.” Foltr waved Ember forward. “Let’s get it done.”
“For real?” Ember looked at Cheyenne. “Is he serious?”
“It’s healing, Em. No spells. You just do it, right?”
The fae glanced at Foltr, who was shuffling away again. “I guess.”
Cheyenne nodded. “You got this.”
L’zar sat down outside the front gates, stretching his legs out in front of him and propping himself up with his hands. “We’ll be waiting for you. Try to be quick about it.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll just rush the healing of a dying raug. No problem.” Rolling her eyes, Ember floated after Foltr, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides.
L’zar chuckled. “I like a fae who talks back to me.”
Corian snorted. “You like anyone who talks to you at all.”
“Not true, but nice try.”
Cheyenne watched Ember and Foltr follow the guards through the door at the base of the massive gates. “So we wait.”
Maleshi set a hand on the halfling’s shoulder and dipped her head. “We’re not storming into this stronghold, kid. I can tell you that much.”
“As long as they let her back out.”
“If she heals this raug, they will.”
When the small door shut behind the raug guards, Cheyenne sat down on the ground too and crossed her legs. “There’s no if. She’ll get it done. That’s what fae do, right?”
“It certainly seems that way.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ember floated behind Foltr and their raug escorts into Hirúl Breach. She didn’t get to see much of it after they passed through the gate, but it was enough to convince her she’d walked into one more giant city she knew nothing about. And I’m here playing magical doctor. Okay. I can do this.
The guards led them into a long, low building built against the wall of the canyon. They climbed three sets of narrow staircases and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. One raug pressed his palm to the door and nodded at her. “Don’t let him kick you out, fae. He does that.”
“Okay.”
He shoved the door open and gestured for her to walk in. She floated through the door, and the other guard held out his hand to block Foltr from entering as well. “Only the healer, old one.”
Foltr grunted and lifted his staff, preparing to knock the guard’s hand aside. “I’m old, brother. Not useless. I can help.”
“Not if you catch what eats this one.”
“Hmm.” Foltr stepped back and called through the door, “I’ll be outside, girl. Call if you need anything.”
“Right.” Before she could say anything else, the guards pulled the heavy door shut with a bang. Wrinkling her nose, she scanned the room. One wall was open to the outside air, pulling in a small breeze that made the lanterns sway on their hooks in the ceiling. They could knock down all the walls, and it still wouldn’t improve the smell.
Grimacing, she floated toward the large bed on the other side of the room, where a mottled gray hand poked out from beneath layers and layers of thick blankets. “Hello?”
A wheezing cough greeted her.
That doesn’t sound good. What am I doing? I’m not a raug doctor.
“I came here to help.”
“Get out.” The voice was raspy and dry, more like a croak. The red claws at the tips of the raug’s nails flicked toward the door. “Let me be.”
“See, that’s not an option. You need help, and that’s what I’m here to do.” She floated slowly along the side of the bed, fighting not to wrinkle her nose.
The raug lying beneath all the blankets and furs didn’t look old enough to be so sick or on the edge of death. He’s huge. Bigger than Gúrdu. Ember stared at the bulging muscles of his arms and shoulders. Her eyes widened when she saw the black lines snaking up his arms beneath his gray flesh. Just like the skaxen. How the hell am I supposed to fix this?
His chest rose and fell with a constant wheeze, his large eyes closed over a grimace of pain and determination.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“If you don’t know my name, you shouldn’t be here.” The raug slowly rolled his head toward her, and his eyes fluttered open. “No. Send the other healers, girl. I don’t want a fae in here.” He broke into a fit of hacking coughs. The bed groaned beneath him as his huge body lurched, and he thrust his hand toward the door. “I said, get out.”
“You don’t want a fae in here, huh?” Ember waited for the coughing to subside, then reached for the edge of the blankets and cautiously peeled them away from his chin to expose his chest. “I don’t wanna be in here either, so it looks like we both have to do something we don’t like. Deal with it.”
The raug growled at her, his glowing orange eyes narrowing. “Where are the other healers? My healers?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Folding the blankets over his legs, she fought not to grimace at the thicker lines of black streaking across his chest and meeting in a dark stain over his heart. Assuming raug hearts are in the same place as human hearts. “Doesn’t look like your healers had much luck. Just think of me as a last resort.”
He sputtered and clenched his eyes shut, and for a minute, Ember thought he was choking. Then a grin split his lips, revealing sharp, pointed teeth and a black tongue behind them. She rolled her eyes.
“Last resort or last rites? The deathflame’s calling my name, either way.”
“Which you still haven’t given me, by the way.”
“Bah.” He turned his head away from her and lay still, breathing quickly and shallowly. “Do your best, then.”
“What happened?”
The raug grunted. “Apparently, I didn’t think to have a fae on hand every damn place I go.”
“Okay. I get it.” Big guy got tainted by the blight, and now he’s punishing himself for it. “Has it happened to anyone els
e?”
A low growl escaped him, and he kept his eyes closed. “No. I got this on a mining expedition, fae. Been in this room for three fell-damn days since I returned.”
“Then let’s hope I got here fast enough.”
He started to chuckle and fell into a fit of coughing even worse than the first one. Ember glanced at the stone shelves cut into the wall beside the bed and picked up the metal pitcher there to give it a quick sniff. Smells like water. Decent chance it’s safe.
She poured some into a copper cup and set that gently in the raug’s open hand. He grasped the cup, his nails clinking on the metal, and brought it to his lips without lifting his head from the thick pillows. Water spilled from the side of his mouth and down around his shoulders. When it was empty, he tossed the cup away. Ember started at the harsh clang of copper bouncing on the stone floor.
The raug twirled a finger in the air before his hand dropped to the bed with a thump. “Get on with it. If I’m at the end, I’d rather get there sooner than later.”
“You’ve got an awfully cheery view of things, don’t you?”
He grunted and said nothing.
“Try to relax, I guess.” Ember slowly reached out to hover both palms above the raug’s broad, black-streaked chest. She focused on her healing magic, and a faint purple light glowed between her palms and the sick raug. After a full minute with no effect, she frowned. I’m tasting bananas, so I know it’s the healing and not the throw-things-across-the-room kind of magic. What am I missing?
The raug wheezed. “See? No use for a fae.”
“Shut up.” Gritting her teeth, Ember placed her hands on the raug’s chest.
He gasped and lurched, his orange eyes flying wide open as he gaped. Ember almost pulled away from the instant burning in her hands but forced herself to keep pressing on his chest. I’m a full-blooded fae and the drow princess’s goddamn Nós Aní. This is gonna work.
The burning heat traveled slowly up her wrists and forearms, intensifying as it spread. Ember grunted against the pain and kept at her healing, even when the raug gasped again and started cursing in French. She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so focused.
