Corian turned toward the troll with a small, discerning frown. “It hasn’t.”
“Yeah? You sure about that?”
“I’ve had reports.”
“Uh-huh. You can have your secrets, Nightstalker. I know you’re good for ‘em.” Persh’al chuckled without taking his eyes off the road.
Cheyenne studied Corian’s stoic, expressionless profile. So I’m not the only one he won’t talk to. At least the guy keeps his promises. Sitting back against the seat, she nodded and looked at the rearview mirror. “I’d still love to see how you built a rig that searches for magic.”
Persh’al finally met her gaze in the mirror and held it. Then he chuckled. “I can’t get over how much you’re like him, kid. Sure. After we figure out what the hell this new portal’s been stirring up, I’ll give you the grand tour. How’s that sound?”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Cheyenne looked out the window again as the goblins beside her laughed.
“No way you’re not L’zar’s kid,” Byrd said.
“Careful, Persh’al.” Lumil pointed at the troll behind the wheel. “You got this halfling holding you to a promise now. You know what happens if you try to back out.”
“Not gonna happen.” Persh’al’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his irritation returning. “My word’s a steel trap, Lumil. Helps that I don’t have ‘turncoat’ on my rap sheet.”
Lumil snorted. “Please. If we don’t all have a fat black mark on our names by now, we sure as hell will soon enough. Don’t tell me I don’t know how to keep a promise.”
“Nope. Just implying it.” The small tablet resting in the cubby below the dashboard let out a series of high-pitched chimes. Persh’al glanced down at it and slowed the SUV to a crawl on the road. “We’re close.”
“Where is it?” Corian asked, scanning the surrounding trees through his window and the windshield.
“Half a mile west.” The troll pulled over and pointed into the thick forest on their left. “I’m not gettin’ this thing through the woods. Who’s up for a little hike?”
Byrd rolled his eyes. “I’m tellin’ ya, portals are the way to go.”
“Not unless you wanna get your head blown off the minute you step through,” Lumil muttered as she ripped off her seatbelt and shoved the back door open.
“You don’t know something’s waiting there to blow my head off.” Byrd scooted toward the open door as the other goblin’s boots crunched across the gravel.
Corian turned in the passenger seat and caught the goblin’s gaze. “You don’t know something’s not there waiting for us.”
Byrd shrugged and leaped out after Lumil.
When everyone had stepped out of the car and all the doors were shut, Persh’al nodded across the dirt road. “Not too much of a walk. Anyone else think it’s weirdly convenient to a road?”
“Convenience or coincidence?” Corian cocked his head. “We’re about to find out.”
Cheyenne followed the group of L’zar Verdys’ long-time magical friends into the thick woods stretching on either side of the dirt road. The five of them moved with practiced silence through the trees, barely making a sound. They’ve had a lot more experience with this, and I’m still just as quiet. Byrd should quit breathing through his mouth.
They’d gone about a quarter of a mile when the halfling felt a foreign prickle of buzzing energy wash over her. The others stopped beside her, feeling the same magical energy, and exchanged glances. Corian pointed at his eyes, then at the goblins. Without a word, Byrd and Lumil nodded and took off to the north and south.
Now they’re scouting.
The Nightstalker nodded at Persh’al, then his gaze fell on the drow halfling. He pointed straight ahead, and Cheyenne nodded even as a chill raced down her spine.
Something’s not right here. They all feel it too.
For a split second, her body fought the command to move forward. She pushed herself to keep moving after Corian and Persh’al through the thickly wooded forest and the dense undergrowth at their feet.
No one made a sound for the next quarter-mile of their little hike. Even the natural sounds of a forest were missing—no birdcalls, no rustling of small animals through the brush. The only thing greeting them was the light shush of a breeze blowing across the treetops.
Cheyenne heard the low hum a full minute before she, Persh’al, and Corian stepped out into the clearing—like a huge motor rumbling from somewhere miles underground. The tingling buzz of a magic she hadn’t felt before intensified across her skin.
As soon they cleared the trees, they found themselves standing in front of a hill of jagged black rock jutting up from the forest floor. Looks more like splintered wood than stone. Cheyenne gazed at the twenty-foot spires and frowned. That isn’t supposed to be here.
Beside her, Corian’s hands moved quickly, his lips silently muttering another spell. A wave of shimmering light rippled away from him in all directions, washing over Persh’al and the halfling before spreading out toward the black spears of stone that had pushed up from the earth. Then the shimmering air disappeared, and the Nightstalker shook his head. “Nobody here.”
“We could’ve told you that,” Byrd said as he stepped around the lowest rise of upturned earth toward them. “This ridge goes on for at least another mile to the west.”
Lumil appeared on Corian’s right, tossing her shaggy yellow hair out of her eyes. “Nothing around the north side.”
Corian turned toward the troll. “Persh’al?”
“With all the magic here, I’m surprised my alarms weren’t going off every half-hour instead.” Persh’al scratched the shaved side of his head and shrugged. “This clearing’s big enough to host decent-sized operations, though. I’m thinking convenience.”
“Yeah, me too.” Corian folded his arms and turned back toward the spires. “Especially if this ridge runs as far as Byrd says it does. Wouldn’t be too hard to reconfigure things into an active tower from here.”
“Nope.” Persh’al cocked his head. “About a week, with the right gear.”
Cheyenne stepped across the clearing to get a better view
