Bhandi folded her arms. “Huh. Maybe it’s ‘cause we haven’t been down here in weeks.”
“Hey.” Tate nudged Cheyenne with the back of his hand again. “You don’t have a mask to take off, but you should…you know.”
The troll gestured to his face and shrugged.
“Yeah, better go drow for this, Cheyenne,” Bhandi added. “Not sure anyone down here’s gonna know what to do with a human-looking chick. Even a Goth chick.”
Yurik leaned toward the halfling. “Especially ‘cause halflings are supposed to be, well…”
“A myth?” Cheyenne cocked her head.
“Listen to her.” Yurik pointed at her, nodding. “You do know some stuff. I’ll give you that.”
“Well, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Tate laughed and bobbed his head. “Compared to us, halfling, yeah, you kinda were.”
Ignoring the jab, Cheyenne took a breath and let the heat of her drow magic flare from the base of her spine. Her skin darkened, hair faded to bone-white, and she stood with the other magicals—FRoE agents, but still magicals—looking like a full drow.
“Yeah, that’s more like it.” Yurik grinned.
Bhandi stared at the halfling’s hair and slowly shook her head. “Love those ears, man.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Wouldn’t say they’re my best feature, but okay. Thanks.”
“What’s your best feature, then?” Tate asked. “In your personal opinion.”
She stared at him and conjured a sphere of her black, crackling magic, purple light sparking at its center. The elevator filled with the loud buzz of the spell in such an enclosed space. The agents cracked up laughing, then the elevator shook with a squealing groan and stopped moving.
“Okay, put that shit away.” Bhandi waved off the halfling’s spell and chuckled again. “We all know you’re a badass.”
Tate spread his arms. “Hey, it’s her best feature.”
The elevator doors opened slowly, letting in the startlingly loud rumble of hundreds of voices talking all at once.
How did I not hear this first?
Cheyenne leaned back before the doors opened all the way, her nostrils flaring. “Whew. Smells like my neighbors’ apartment times a million.”
“You got magical neighbors, huh?” Bhandi shrugged. “Bet they got what you’re smelling right here.”
“They did, yeah. Every Wednesday.”
The off-duty agents chuckled again and stepped quickly out of the elevator. Tate nudged Cheyenne’s shoulder again before walking past her. “You’re gonna love this.”
Bhandi spun around and spread her arms, walking backward into the long, crowded walkway with a grin. “Welcome to Peridosh, halfling.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Like Q3’s marketplace on steroids. Cheyenne gazed at all the brightly colored banners and pendants streaming across the wide underground room, dipping in the center just out of reach if the halfling jumped with an outstretched hand. Vendors had set up their carts, forgoing tents in a place closed off from the elements. Everywhere she looked, magicals bartered, laughed, bought and sold, ate, drank, and clapped each other on the back.
“Hey, watch yourself, greenskin,” a short, squat goblin woman barked at the orc who’d stepped back into her cart. “Or you can pay me for the whole fell-damned bushel.”
“Piss off, Heesha. Everyone knows you’re trying to sell us last week’s leftovers.”
The magicals who’d heard the jab laughed and Cheyenne kept walking after her new FRoE friends. There’s always someone trying to make trouble.
The sound of at least four drums beating a fast-paced rhythm echoed toward them from up ahead. Yurik did a weird little jig and spun to grin at her. “What do you think?”
“It’s big.”
“Ha. Big and loud and noisy and smelly. Best way to blow off steam.” The beefed-up goblin rubbed his hands together and glanced at a cart with some kind of produce, bubblegum-pink with a bunch of dangling roots like floppy carrots sprouting from the sides. “Woah. No, thanks.”
More vendors shouted out into the fray, trying to draw in new customers. One storefront had a table set up just outside the front door, laid out with plates, cups, vases, and shields, all of it made of one metal or another. Tate caught Cheyenne staring and pointed at the table. “Those are supposed to have been made on the other side. You know, across the Border. Protective talismans or something.”
The halfling frowned and peered at the items spread out on the bright purple-and-red-striped table runner. “Are those lamps?”
“Oh, probably. I wouldn’t rub any of those, though. Good luck trying to deal with a genie down here.”
“Don’t tell me there are genies in there?”
The troll laughed. “I seriously doubt it.”
Brightly woven rugs, tapestries, and clothing hung from the fronts of the next few shops on either side of the wide avenue, and the group navigated their way through the thick crowd of magicals in every shape, size, and color. Two skaxens snarled and hissed at each other as the orc trying to buy a curved sword from them stood by and waited for the orange guys to figure it out.
When they passed the stall, Cheyenne stopped short and pulled her head away, blinking quickly. “Woah.”
Yurik turned back toward her with the same grin, but it faded when he saw her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Not gonna pass out on me again, are ya?” He laughed when she shot him a glare in response.
“Just a lot of…smells.”
“Tell me about it. Drow are supposed to have super-noses. Better than the rest of us. That true?”
The halfling closed one eye and wrinkled her nose. “No one else looks like they’re about to get a headache.”
“Aw, you’ll get used to it. We’re almost to the pub anyway. Here, it’s right down—”
“Hey! What’s the holdup?” Bhandi spread her arms in front of a building, the wooden sign over the door reading in thick black letters The Empty Barrel. “We doin’ this or what?”
Tate had almost reached her, and he turned to spread his arms too and shoot Cheyenne and Yurik an exaggerated imitation of Bhandi’s irritation.
“Come on.” Yurik stuck his hands in the pockets of those ridiculous yellow pants and nodded at the others. “This is the best part.”
“If you say so.” The halfling blinked quickly again, surprised to find no tears squeezing out of her eyes from the thick spices blasting through the air, then rubbed her nose.
