A sharp laugh burst out of her. “I do.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Corian hunkered down on the floor, eyed the basket of magical items, then sat all the way. “Not that I plan on seeing where you live.”
“What, you’re not into coming over for pizza and beer after beating each other up on the training field?”
He smirked. “Not with you.”
“You know, somehow, that feels like a compliment.”
Shrugging, the Nightstalker didn’t clarify one way or another before he got to work emptying the basket and laying out all the materials on the concrete floor. He paused before picking up the brown glass jar Yadje had given the halfling.
“Healing salve.” Cheyenne nodded, then her damn forearm started itching again. Grimacing, she rubbed it through her hoody sleeve and crossed her legs beneath her. “It’s supposed to be pretty decent.”
He unscrewed the lid and took a little sniff. “Woah. Yeah, kid. ‘Pretty decent’ is a serious understatement. This has darktongue flower in it. Or it’s mostly darktongue, judging by the smell.” The lid went back on, and Corian tilted the jar back and forth. “This isn’t easy to come by. Where’d you get it?”
“From a friend.” Frowning, Cheyenne took the jar from him and opened it to smell for herself. “Jeeze!” Wrinkling her nose, she screwed the lid on tight and set the jar aside. “Smells like rotting strawberries.”
“Well, most O’gúleesh would pay an arm and a leg to get their hands on some of those rotting strawberries.”
“For real?”
He nodded. “How much did your friend charge for that? Big jar.”
“Nothing.”
Corian choked and leaned over his lap. The choke became another laugh as he shook his head. “I can’t for the life of me figure out how you find yourself in these situations, kid.” When he looked at her, his glowing silver eyes narrowed above a smile that was half nostalgic pride and half sadness. “Then I remember who your drow half came from.”
“We can skip the part where you tell me I’m so much like L’zar, blah, blah, blah.” The halfling waved him off. “I’m not interested.”
“Me neither.” They stared at each other, then the Nightstalker clapped and turned back toward the supplies. “So. I’m assuming you brought the spellbook that started this hairbrained new venture of yours.”
“Dude, you’re hairier than me.”
His eyes flicked toward her face. “It’s fur.”
“Uh-huh.” She grabbed her backpack from beside the shelf and dragged it across the floor toward her. The loose stack of Mattie Bergmann’s handwritten pages was in relatively good shape still when she pulled it out and thumped it on the floor between them. “Here it is.”
“Jesus, Cheyenne. I hope you don’t expect me to help you with all of this tonight.”
“Well, you just gave me more ammunition.”
“Don’t pretend you have enough energy left for more than one or two of these.”
Smirking, the halfling flipped through the first few pages until she found the personal illusion charm. “I wanna start with this one, and maybe get some ward pointers from you before I bail for the night.”
“We’ll see.” Corian took the piece of paper from her, stared at her, then glanced down at the spell. Two seconds later, the paper fluttered to the floor as his fingers shot open like he’d just grabbed a hot poker. The Nightstalker hissed something in O’gúleesh, then his glowing silver eyes widened. “Where the hell did you get this?”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
“Why do people keep asking me that?” Cheyenne glanced at the piece of paper resting on the floor in front of Corian. “I told you already. I got that whole book from a friend. I mean, it’s not really a book, but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”
“Cheyenne.” The Nightstalker slowly put his finger on the loose paper touching his shin and cleared his throat. “Do you know who wrote these spells?”
“You’re sounding an awful lot like the Grinch Who Stole the Potions Shop.”
“What?”
“Never mind. My friend wrote those down. Then she made me copies, obviously, and gave them to me.” Cheyenne tapped her temple. “Said she pulled it out of here and wanted to put it down for posterity or whatever.”
“Yeah, I bet she did. You and your friends. Pshh. There something you’re not telling me?”
“Probably. Care to be a little more specific?”
Corian studied the illusion charm instructions, then thumbed through the rest of the spellbook, pausing here and there to take a better look at whatever caught his attention. Then he shook his head. “You mentioned the name Maleshi.”
“Yeah, and you told me to shut up about it.”
“Yes, I remember.” Biting his bottom lip, he warily removed his hand from the spell stack and scratched behind one pointed, fur-tufted ear. “And now, obviously, you’re ready to have that conversation.”
“Because Maleshi gave me her spellbook.” The halfling studied every tick in her mentor’s face as he took his sweet time to respond. I knew it. Mattie was talking to herself.
“How the hell did you become friends with Maleshi Hi’et?”
“Well, we’re not that close.” Cheyenne raised her eyebrows and shrugged.
“Maleshi. Huh. Earthside, off the grid.” He shook his head, blinking furiously as his feline nose wrinkled in confusion. “And she never reached out to any of us.”
“Yeah, she’s even more hush-hush than you.” Cheyenne snorted. “So, you can imagine how much fun it is trying to get her to say anything about anything.”
“I don’t have to imagine, Cheyenne. I know.” Slowly, Corian broke out of his musings and looked at her. “I know Maleshi very well.”
“From back home, right?”
“Hmm.” A bitter smile spread across his closed lips. “Yes. Everyone back home knows who Maleshi Hi’et is. Even if they never met her, I can promise you they’ve heard the name.”
The halfling squinted. “Let me guess. Escaped convict?”
“Please. Not every role model in your life follows that story.”
Just let that one go, Cheyenne. He’s obviously wrapped up in the past. “Then why is she here hiding from everyone but me?”
“I can’t tell you why she chose
