Then the halfling’s fingers brushed across a small piece of metal in her right pocket with sharp, cold points. She paused, then pulled out the four-pointed star Mattie Bergmann had made from the half-drow’s wayward spell. Through the washer and everything.
With a little shrug, Cheyenne set the metal trinket in the center of the counter, then spread her arms. “That’s all I got.”
“It isn’t.” The orc leaned down and squinted at the tiny object but didn’t touch it. “But this will do.”
“Great.” A four-pointed souvenir, huh? Yeah, right.
The potionmaster jerked something under his counter and pulled out what looked like a thin mailing sleeve sold at the post office, only this one was made of some kind of tanned, hardened leather. He gingerly slid the web into it, then moved the whole thing across the counter beside the giant basket. “Don’t get it wet.”
“Definitely not.” The halfling dipped her head and reached for her free and purchased items. “That’s it, right?”
“Until the next time you invoke the old laws, drow.”
“I didn’t… Never mind. Thanks.”
“Oh, Cheyenne!” Bryl’s scarlet head popped up beside the halfling’s elbow. “I can carry that basket for you.”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t let anything fall out. I promise.”
Cheyenne picked up the handle and lowered the basket into the girl’s outstretched arms. “I trust you.” Everything went back into her pockets, then she grabbed the weird leather sleeve protecting the strange magical web and turned toward Bryl’s parents. “Time to go.”
The trolls nodded at the potionmaster, who waved them off and went back to staring at the four-pointed star on his counter. They all slipped out of the shop and back into the medium-sized crowd milling around the Peridosh thoroughfare.
“And I thought we’d be showing you something new down here.” R’mahr chuckled and shook his head. “You are full of surprises, Cheyenne.”
“Tell me about it.” Surprises for me too. What just happened in there?
“Is there anything else we need to see down here?” Yadje asked her husband, linking her arm through his.
“Cheyenne did mention something about food.”
“We ate before we came, and what you ate at home is leagues better than anything you’ll find down here.”
The halfling took another sniff of the heavily spiced food, the scent getting stronger as they slowly made their way toward the section of Peridosh lined with taverns and food stalls. Her stomach growled again, and she shot Bryl a quick wink. “Smells pretty good to me.”
The girl laughed and hiked the basket higher. “Maji doesn’t let us eat anything down here.”
“Don’t talk to me about loyalty, asshole!” A surprisingly skinny orc stumbled out of the tavern beyond the Empty Barrel, his eyes wide as he whirled around to face a gigantic troll with a shock of bright-red hair running down the center of his head like a skunk stripe. “I told you to quit coming in here until you bring what you owe me!”
Two more trolls stepped out of the tavern behind Skunkhead, their arms folded as they glared at the scrawny orc.
“Come on, Majril,” the orc whined. “I ain’t got none of that yet.”
“Then you can piss off.”
Most of the crowd walked around the arguing magicals, minding their own business but moving in a fairly wide arc around the terrified orc. Cheyenne saw the thought flash across the skinny greenskin’s face a split second before he acted. The terror there flared to rage in an instant, and he threw a shower of bursting green sparks toward Skunkhead and his bouncers.
“Bryl, my love. Over here.” Yadje reached for her daughter and pulled the girl toward R’mahr, glancing at the fight and hoping to get away in time.
Skunkhead dodged the sparks that left divots in the front wall of his tavern and hissed. “I’m adding that to your bill, you fell-damn coward!” He unleashed a flaming ball of red fire at the orc, who leaped back and darted aside.
The orc’s flailing hand knocked Bryl’s shoulder and sent her stumbling against her mother. Both Yadje and the girl cried out, and the orc snarled at them.
“Now you… You…” R’mahr shook a furious finger at the other magical and seemed to run out of ideas.
Another fireball burst on the ground at the orc’s feet, and the troll family yelped before struggling to get out of the way.
“All right. Enough of this crap.” Cheyenne tucked the hardened leather case under her arm and stalked toward the troublemakers. “Hey!”
“Get lost, bitch!” Skunkhead barked without turning to look at her. He was focused on shooting two columns of sparking yellow energy at the skinny orc. His target yelped and blasted a spray of tiny silver darts. The spell tinkled through the air before thudding against walls and doors and cement like they were bullets.
Cheyenne threw up a shimmering black shield in front of her, and the tiny silver projectiles clinked against it in quick succession. Even that didn’t get the fighting magicals’ attention. When she lowered the shield and stepped forward, another round of burning drow magic flared up her spine.
The halfling set the leather case down at her feet and didn’t give those idiots another warning. Her whipping black tendrils lashed from the fingertips of both hands and curled around first Skunkhead’s wrists, then the skinny orc’s. They both shouted in surprise, their attack spells momentarily abandoned as they struggled against their new bonds.
“Listen up!” Cheyenne roared. Her voice echoed through Peridosh, and everyone did what she said. Not what I was going for, but okay. She tugged sharply on the tendrils writhing around the dumb magicals’ wrists. They both
