The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  “Time belongs to itself, Weaver.”

  “Oh, so you do know me.” The drow thief grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ba’rael’s son appraised L’zar with a slow, unamused glance. “We know the seeds you’ve sown and failed to nurture. We know the threads you’ve woven from one end to the next. We do not know you.”

  “Hmm. Few do.” L’zar clasped his hands behind his back again and dipped his head, still smiling and staring at his nephew like a starving dog staring at an untouched steak.

  The same way he stared at me the first time. And the second. Not good. Cheyenne cleared her throat. “So, okay, look. Maybe you don’t have a name, but it’s weird calling you Lost One. Ever imagine yourself with a real name?”

  “Neros.” The drow blinked as if he’d emerged from lifelong amnesia. “You can call us Neros.”

  “Okay, that works. I’m Cheyenne. You picked up on the cousin part, so I’m pretty sure you can put those pieces together. The nightstalkers are Corian and Maleshi.”

  “Cheyenne.” Her name whispered by Neros’ lips made her shiver.

  “Yep. That’s me. And the grinning lunatic next to me is L’zar. My dad. Your mom’s brother.”

  “You do not believe blood bonds with blood, Cheyenne. Why should we?”

  She stared at Neros and leaned forward in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “You heard us, bright one.”

  “Bright?” Cheyenne snorted. “Okay, I don’t know what you’re seeing right now. Maybe all this shiny stone and, I don’t know, the altitude up here is making things look kinda funny, but I wouldn’t call me—”

  “Cheyenne.” L’zar turned his head toward her but kept his golden eyes on his nephew.

  “What?”

  “Ask him if he’s seen his mother when he searches through the Weave.”

  “You’re standing right here in front of him, L’zar. Ask him yourself.”

  “He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “I wouldn’t wanna talk to you either if you were asking me stupid questions.”

  L’zar’s gaze flicked toward her. “Do it.”

  “We hear everything, Weaver. And we have seen the drow of which you speak.” Neros’ washed-out gaze settled on his uncle’s face. “She is no concern of ours.”

  “Really?” L’zar’s grin returned. “So you see Ba’rael Verdys in her last days on the O’gúl Crown, and you’re not concerned.”

  “There is no reason for concern.”

  “Ah. Even when the drow who created you and sent you here, however unknowingly, will fight Cheyenne to keep that throne?”

  Neros blinked slowly. “She will not.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “This is ridiculous.” Cheyenne shook her head and turned around. “Two drow talking in circles around each other. My brain can’t handle it.”

  “Let her go.” L’zar waved dismissively at his daughter. “If she wants to fill in the missing pieces on her own, Neros, that’s on her. I want to hear more about what you’ve seen.”

  Neros took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and watched Cheyenne stalk across the plateau to put distance between them. “We have seen the pattern and the fray, Weaver. So have you. Everything turns, begins anew, and ends.”

  “What about the Crown?”

  “The Crown will be the Crown. It’s all the same.” Neros turned his body toward Cheyenne, who caught the movement from the corner of her eye and folded her arms, trying to ignore her cousin’s tingling stare. “We are all the same. Except for her.”

  L’zar broke into a wide grin again. “There it is.”

  Cheyenne turned back toward them. “Wait, what?”

  “What do you see in my daughter, Neros?”

  “Something different.” Neros tilted his head. “Half of her does not exist in this world.”

  “No way.” Cheyenne eyed her cousin warily, then glanced at the nightstalkers. “He can’t know that. How?”

  “How, indeed.” L’zar’s wide eyes flickered from Neros’ face to the silver cuff peeking out from beneath the sleeve of Cheyenne’s trenchcoat. “It seems Ur’syth’s trinket only works on eyes that don’t see through the Weave.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we have an excellent opportunity to look farther than I’ve ever imagined.” L’zar steepled his fingers and drummed them against each other. “Neros, I would very much appreciate your help in a certain matter. Or a few, now that I think about it.”

  The light-skinned drow stared at Cheyenne without moving.

  “I’ve been searching for a few things that would greatly aid my cause. Our cause, of course. Cheyenne shares it with me.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t put words in my mouth, especially not after your little warning about your purpose, L’zar.”

  “Whatever is said up here will remain between the five of us.” The drow thief spread his arms. “I’m not telling anyone to leave, and I have no problem letting you stay. If you still want to know, that is.”

  “So, you’re finally gonna reveal your master plan, huh?”

  L’zar reached toward his nephew’s face as if he meant to sweep the bone-white hair away from Neros’ angular jaw, then thought better of it. His long, slender fingers curled into a loose fist, then he lowered his hand. “If Neros will join us in the conversation, of course. You’d be doing all of us a great honor.”

  “We will not.”

  L’zar gave a surprised laugh and shook his head. “Pardon?”

  “We wish to speak to Cheyenne. Alone. Now.”

  “After that?”

  “You may leave.”

  L’zar’s eye twitched as he stared at his nephew’s profile. “That’s not an option.”

  “L’zar.” Corian stepped toward him, gazing at the drow thief and his nephew. “This obviously isn’t the right time.”

  “It is exactly the right time!” L’zar’s shout echoed down the mountainside and sent a handful of small rocks plummeting down to the valley below.

  No one else said a word, but all eyes except Neros’ were fixed uncertainly on the drow thief. Neros didn’t look away from Cheyenne.

  With a deep breath, L’zar smoothed his hair away from his face, and his smile returned. “I have made the time, Neros. The least you can do is give me the same courtesy.”

  “Only Cheyenne.”

  The drow thief’s eyes blazed with gold light, his mad grin fracturing into a furious snarl as his head trembled.

  Corian moved toward him. “We’ll give them a moment, and then we’ll try again.”

  “No. Cheyenne knows nothing about the order of things, and I will have the answers I came for. Look at me!” L’zar’s hand came down on Neros’ shoulder again.

  The light-skinned drow moved faster than any of them could see. His pale hand flicked toward L’zar with a flash of blinding white light. The concentrated magic pummeled the drow thief in the chest and sent him flying across the plateau. Corian and Maleshi were caught up in the same wave, and all three magicals hurtled over the side of the mountain with the crack of splitting stone and the ensuing rumble of debris tumbling to the valley floor.

  “Hey!” Cheyenne darted toward the plateau’s edge and peered over the side.

  Corian and Maleshi were sliding down the mountainside on all fours, and they succeeded in bracing themselves and slowing to a stop. L’zar picked himself up off the footpath where he’d landed, a tangle of dry weeds and dead grass knotted in his hair, and snarled up at her. “I’m gonna kill him!”

  “Oh, boy.” Cheyenne turned back to Neros. “There’s a good chance he meant that, at least until something changes his mind. Be ready when he gets back up here.” She glanced at her cousin’s pale hand hanging by his side and shrugged. “Not like you can’t take care of yourself, obviously.”

  “He will not return until we allow it.”

  “What?” She laughed in disbelief and sho
ok her head. “I know you guys just met, but believe me, if a prison built specifically for magicals couldn’t hold him, I don’t think—”

  A loud thump cut her off, followed by L’zar’s enraged roar from halfway down the mountain.

  Cheyenne peered over the side again, and her mouth dropped open. “No shit.”

  L’zar stood on the other side of a shimmering wall of light, ignoring the blood pouring from his nose. He snarled and hissed, pounding the magical barrier to no effect. “Cheyenne! Tell him to take it down! Now!”

  She stared at her father and slowly backed away from the edge of the plateau.

  “No. Cheyenne! Don’t you dare!” Another furious bellow escaped him, and he shot a useless burst of purple drow magic at the shimmering wall of light. It bounced back off and narrowly missed Corian’s shoulder as it soared toward the other side of the valley. “Cheyenne!”

  Neros snapped his fingers, and the top of the mountain quieted. Even the thin whistle of the wind through the temple of white stone was silenced, and Cheyenne found herself smiling when she turned around to face her cousin. “You know, it was starting to sink in that I’ve got some pretty big, bloody, not exactly comfortable drow shoes to fill after all this, but I think L’zar Verdys finally met his match. And it’s not me.”

  “You looked pleased.”

  “Well,” she said, chuckling, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t satisfying.” Just to watch someone else hit that drow with his own medicine and finally shut him up. Folding her arms, Cheyenne studied the empty plateau and the pristinely kept temple in the center. “You know he’s gonna try again, right? He won’t take no for an answer, so he’ll keep beating the problem until it finally gives up. That’s what he does.”

  “The Weaver is no concern of ours either, cousin.” Neros’ mouth flickered into a small smile, and he spread his arm to gesture at the temple. “Come sit with us. We have questions for you.”

  “Oh.” Cheyenne spared the edge of the mountaintop a fleeting glance, then slowly made her way toward the light-skinned drow staring at her with wide eyes. “Any chance you could drop the talking in the second person? It’s a little weird.”

  “It makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Well, there are varying degrees of discomfort.” She shrugged. “You know what? Never mind. I’m the last person who should be trying to change anybody else just ‘cause they’re a little different. You talk about yourself however you want.”

  When she reached Neros’ extended arm, he lowered it and turned with her toward the temple. “Thank you.”

  “Sure. Wait. It’s just the way you talk, right? Like there isn’t more than one of you in there?”

  For the first time, her cousin’s mouth drew up farther than a tiny jerk, and he favored her with a full, amused smile. “That does not have one answer, but I will try to explain.”

  “That’s a good start, I guess. I’ll take it.” Trying not to shy away from the growing tingle of strong magic around her and the returning tang of vinegar and berries in her mouth, Cheyenne stepped onto the temple floor with her cousin raised by olforím and sat when he gestured for her to sit.

  The drow no one knows about has more power in his finger than L’zar and I put together. Would that still be the case if he came with us?

  She waited for a moment longer beneath Neros’ intent gaze as he sat directly opposite her, then looked down into her lap and took a deep breath. “You ever wonder about leaving this place? Getting out into the rest of the world instead of being stuck here for however long it’s been?”

  “Four hundred years. That is what they tell us.” He chuckled. “What they tell me.”

  “Right. Long time.” Cheyenne leaned away a little when her cousin leaned toward her. Not long enough to learn about personal space, apparently. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I want your answers first, Cheyenne. Then I will give you mine.”

  “Okay.” She spread her arms and tried to smile at him, but the closeness of his intense magic made her face feel tight and not quite there at all. “Ask away.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  On the side of the mountain, L’zar roared again and pounded his fists against the shimmering wall of Neros’ spell. “No. I won’t be thrown out like that and forced to wait while they— Cheyenne! Undo this. Do you hear me?”

  “The whole valley can hear you.” Corian sat cross-legged on the footpath and studied the wall of light. “Apparently, you’re being ignored.”

  “Not when I don’t agree to it,” L’zar snarled.

  “That’s part of being ignored.”

  “No one asked for your useless commentary, vae shra’ni.” The drow stalked along the path and let off another burst of purple fire. It crackled against the shield and again ricocheted off.

  Corian leaned sideways and snatched the violet flames with a silver-glowing hand. He closed his fists around L’zar’s magic and dampened it, then he flicked the transformed metal star with four points into the air and caught it again. “We have two choices.”

  L’zar slammed a fist into the magical wall. “Shut up.”

  “We can sit here and spend the rest of our energy fighting a spell like that, which doesn’t seem to have any weak points.”

  “Everything has a weak point.”

  “Or we can allow what’s happening up there to unfold and go over the details with Cheyenne later.”

  “No. Cheyenne is not prepared to handle something this delicate on her own.”

  “Of course.” Maleshi, who stood in front of the closest switchback, nodded. “The Cu’ón is far better trained in the art of delicacy.”

  He hissed at her and turned away again to pace back along the trail. “I don’t even know why you came with us, General.”

  “Would it surprise you to hear I enjoy the company?”

  Corian snorted and immediately wiped the smile from his face when L’zar spun again.

  “Not my company.” The drow looked at the nightstalkers. “No one enjoys that.”

  “I know you’re speaking from personal experience, L’zar, but I’ll say the same thing your daughter told you.” Maleshi’s silver eyes glowed, reflecting the shimmering white wall. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “And don’t think I don’t see what’s going on here.” L’zar sneered at Corian. “You two have found an awful lot of free time lately, haven’t you?”

  Corian cocked his head and fixed the drow with an unwavering gaze. “We’re back in Ambar’ogúl, L’zar. You knew the risks associated with your return.”

  “Those were risks I counted on, vae shra’ni. If I’d known the risks of letting two feral vaga enter the same room, I wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  “That’s going too far.” Corian remained seated on the path, though he straightened from where he’d hunched over his crossed legs. “We’ve already spent more time on this side than either of us expected. You and Cheyenne have come to a deeper understanding of each other in the last few days, which I can honestly say I didn’t expect either. But it’s starting to show.”

  “Ha.” L’zar’s hands formed open claws, and his low growl rose into another furious roar. “My own daughter. The mór úcare everyone else—”

  “Careful.” Maleshi clenched her jaw, her nostrils flaring. “If you want her to continue on this path, I’d avoid the Crown’s name for her.”

  “I’ll call her whatever I want. She’s my daughter.”

  “And our last hope for finishing this Cycle now, before things get any more complicated.”

  L’zar glared at the general and wagged a long slate-gray finger at her. “You’ve grown too bold on your return, Hi’et. No one restored your rank. Don’t forget who made it possible for you to step foot in Hangivol without having your furry head ripped right off your flea-ridden shoulders.”

  Maleshi rolled her eyes and gazed at the valley.

  Corian watched the drow stalk back and forth. “You still haven’t had enough t
ime to recover from the Weave.”

  L’zar lifted a clawed hand again like he meant to rip something out of the air in front of him. “That bane of my existence has nothing to do with this.”

  “There’s no use arguing with him, vae shra’ni.” Maleshi shrugged. “Might as well let him burn himself out.”

  “What do you know of burning, Hi’et?” L’zar hissed at her. “Beyond what brought you back to my Nós Aní’s side?”

  “That’s enough.” Corian stood and stepped between L’zar and Maleshi, blocking the drow from storming toward the general. “Tell me what you meant to do up there with Neros.”

  L’zar snarled and stared into the nightstalker’s glowing eyes.

  “We still have twelve days, brother.” Corian leaned sideways to cut the drow off when L’zar tried to sneak past him. “That’s plenty of time for Cheyenne to coax whatever information you need from your nephew.”

  “I don’t want his information. I want his eyes.”

  “His eyes.”

  L’zar hissed and whirled away from the nightstalker, opting to pace the other half the trail instead.

  “L’zar, I can’t do anything for you if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”

  “You don’t need to know anything.”

  “But it will help.” Corian said, “Let me help you carry it. You’ve shared every single step up to this point with me—everything since the beginning. I don’t know what you think has changed, but I stand by my vow and the binding. You know that.”

  “Yes. You’re bound to me no matter what I do or don’t tell you.” L’zar stormed toward the nightstalker again and thrust a finger at Corian. “I should have bound you to my command as well. Then you’d have no choice but to shut up.”

  “You need to calm down.”

  “You need to stop being such a pathetic waste and choose where your loyalties lie!” L’zar’s gaze swung toward Maleshi. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You want to know my plans for a final time so you and the scourge of the Night and Circle can take what’s mine. You want all the threads you could never touch to wrap yourselves together within them.” Spittle flew from the drow’s mouth as he shouted in Corian’s face. “I see everything, Corian! Everything except your choices because you haven’t made them yet!”