“I see. It’s that kinda secret message.”
“Not the way you might think. Washington’s got nothing to do with it.”
“As far as you know.”
The halfling nodded. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve found out about it by now, but this isn’t a FRoE thing. This is… I don’t even know what this is, but I have to go. You gonna be okay?”
“All right, let’s recap. I’m good. If I’m not, I’ll call you or text you or whatever. If you don’t answer, we have a very friendly neighbor just across the hall.”
“Yeah, okay. Message received.”
“Excellent.”
Chuckling, Cheyenne grabbed everything she needed off the coffee table, shoved it all into her pockets, then pulled the middle-finger hoodie over her head. “I think that’s everything. Wish me luck.”
Ember wheeled herself into the living room and wrinkled her nose. “Nah. You don’t need that. Just be careful, huh?”
The halfling paused at the front door and glanced at her friend. “I will. Thanks.”
She closed the door and headed quickly toward the elevator, the fob already in her hand. If Corian doesn’t know what to do with this message, I have a feeling we’re screwed.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
The address Corian had given her turned out to be an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of DC. Cheyenne pulled her car into a parking lot overgrown with weeds and frowned at the graffiti plastered all over the building. This is nuts.
She got out anyway, locked her car, and glanced quickly up and down the empty street before turning toward the warehouse entrance. A bright-green light shimmered across the metal door, a brief shape flashing once in the center. Four-pointed star. Definitely not a souvenir. Before she had a chance to knock, the door swung open.
“I’d recognize that fancy little lock-beep anywhere.” Corian stepped aside and nodded for her to enter. “Come in.”
The halfling stepped into the not-so-abandoned warehouse and looked around. The place was mostly empty, except for tables set up in a square missing one of its sides. Those tables were covered with computer monitors and mice and keyboards, neatly bundled wires trailing to the various power sources. She saw three main towers through all the dangling mess and figured there were probably more.
Sitting at the center table was a troll, his skin more blue than purple, with a foot-tall neon-orange mohawk jutting from his shaven scalp. He turned slowly in the desk chair, his orange-red eyes widening when he saw the halfling standing there. “By the fell-damn Crown…”
“Cheyenne, this is Persh’al.”
She jerked her chin at the odd-looking troll. “Hey.”
“Ha. ‘Hey,’ she says. That’s it.” Persh’al chuckled and shook his head, leaning back in the chair again. “Yeah, you’re L’zar’s kid, all right. Corian, is this—”
“Probably.” The Nightstalker gestured at the two open chairs on either side of Persh’al. “Let’s get to it.”
Cheyenne took the closest chair, and the troll wheeled back from the table so all three of them could form a little circle for their chat.
“Heard you got a message,” the troll said.
“Yeah. Straight from L’zar.” The halfling leaned forward and slid her hands down her thighs. “He said there was an unregulated breach, and he thinks the Crown’s behind it. Corian, he wanted you to grab whoever you think can handle it to go check things out. ASAP.”
“ASAP, huh?” Persh’al smirked.
“His words. Yeah.”
The troll spun again and rolled the chair forward to pull something up on the screen. The monitor flashed to life, and all Cheyenne saw were a bunch of scrolling symbols in blue and green. That’s not any kind of code I know.
“I had a feeling this was what he meant when you called me, Corian. See this?” Persh’al pointed at a random floating symbol.
The Nightstalker nodded. “The damn breach.”
“Yep. I noticed this six months ago. It’s popped up every now and then. The most frequently wasn’t any more than twice a week. But two days ago…” The troll typed several quick commands, and the scrolling characters moved way too fast for Cheyenne to follow. “Every two hours on the fucking nose.”
“Shit.”
“You can say that again.”
“What is it?” Cheyenne asked.
Both magicals stared at her. Persh’al’s head jerked back. “Huh. Still got a lot to learn, doncha?”
“Ignore him.” Corian leaned around the back of the troll’s chair to meet Cheyenne’s gaze. “It’s a new Border portal.”
The halfling nodded. “Without a rez attached, right?”
“Okay.” Persh’al slapped his hands down on his thighs. “I rescind my previous judgment.”
“How’d you know about that?” Corian asked.
“I met someone who made the crossing through that portal.” And that’s as much as I’m saying. I made a promise.
“And you didn’t think that was an important thing to share at any point in the last week?” Corian folded his arms, his silver eyes blazing.
“As far as I know,” the halfling retorted, “it’s none of my business. You want me coming to you with every little thing I notice that seems off? Fine. But it’s a long list.”
“This isn’t a little thing, Cheyenne.” Corian nodded at the monitor again. “Any sign of how it got there?”
“Not a spore.” Persh’al shrugged. “We should go check it out.”
“Yeah. You wanna make the calls?”
The troll frowned. “It’s just the two, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“On it.” Persh’al stood and stalked across the warehouse toward a small room in the far corner. A door closed behind him, and his muffled voice filtered into the warehouse’s main room a few seconds later.
“He’s calling in backup, huh?”
Corian looked at her and tilted his head. “Something like that.”
“So, what now?”
“Now, Cheyenne, we wait. Once our backup gets here, we go figure out what the hell has L’zar Verdys so spooked.”
Twenty minutes later, the door to the warehouse burst open. Two goblins marched in, grim-faced and ready.
“Corian.” A goblin man with huge gages in his turquoise ears stepped forward and held out his hand. “Long time, man.”
“Too long.”
“Damn.” A goblin woman with the shiny scar around
