“Maybe.”
“Look, my advice would be to keep using that connection until they don’t have anything else to offer you. Then drop ‘em.”
“That was kind of the plan.” Cheyenne leaned back in the chair and stretched her legs out under the table, careful to move them aside so she wouldn’t touch the flimsy table legs or the Nightstalker’s shoes. “Right now, they’re pretty useless.”
“You’re talking about the kids.”
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “We went out this morning to go after the magicals selling that crap. The FRoE had a tip about where to find them, but when we got there, the place was empty except for crates of supplies those assholes apparently didn’t need and a—” She forced back the tears threatening to build up behind them. “A pile of clothes.”
“Clothes.”
“Kid’s clothes, Corian. Backpacks. Shoes. All their stuff. And I saw a goblin kid the other day dressed in some stupid black robes. He was already gone by the time we got there, but I’m pretty sure there was some kinda sacrifice or something.” Cheyenne rubbed her forehead. “I know it sounds crazy—”
“No.” The Nightstalker’s gaze was as steady as his voice when she looked back up at him. “It’s not crazy at all. It’s been a long, long time, but I’ve seen something like this before.”
“With kids?”
The Nightstalker dipped his head. “Ambar’ogúl is rife with black magic, Cheyenne. It’s always been there, sure, but the last century or so, things really started to get out of hand.”
“You’ve been here longer than that, though.”
“That doesn’t mean I haven’t heard stories. And you know the Border crossings aren’t one-way trips.”
“Are you trying to tell me everyone on that side practices black magic?”
“Not everyone, no. Not yet, anyway.” Corian pressed his lips together in a grimace. “Why do you think so many O’gúleesh are making the crossing, now more than ever?”
“To get away from it.”
He nodded. “And now it looks like someone’s trying to push it Earthside, too. Or maybe some displaced and bitter magicals gave up on trying to make things work the way they were supposed to after they got here. Who knows? It’s easy to turn to black magic if you think you’ve run out of options with everything else.”
“That’s no excuse.” The halfling folded her arms.
“I agree with you there, Cheyenne.” The Nightstalker closed his eyes, then crossed one leg over the other. “It wasn’t supposed to take this long.”
“What wasn’t?”
He stood abruptly from the table and scanned the metal shelves against the wall. “You’re not ready for that.”
“That’s also not an excuse.” Cheyenne nudged the copper puzzle box across the table. “And I’m more ready now than the last time I was here.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“Solved another line of the legacy box.”
The Nightstalker stiffened before slowly turning back toward her. His gaze traveled slowly from the box to Cheyenne’s face. Then his hand lashed out toward her, and a crackling bolt of silver magic streamed toward her. The halfling leaped out of her chair, sending it to the cement floor, and raised a shield. Corian’s spell crackled across the surface of the translucent black field, then fizzled out before the shield disappeared.
“Hmm.” Corian cocked his head. “You’ve been practicing.”
“Yeah, bar fights are good for that.”
“That’s good. One more ability mastered, and you’re closer to solving that Cuil Aní.” He turned back toward the shelf and started rummaging through the piles of junk there. “But it’s not good enough.”
“You know, I’m really getting tired of people telling me I’m not ready, or it’s not good enough, or I need to wait and just do what I’m told.”
“Whatever anyone else has told you, Cheyenne, trust me. You’re not ready to face this until you’ve completed the drow trial and come into your own. You’re not the only one affected by this.”
“Really?” The halfling folded her arms. “It’s supposed to be my legacy. What do you get out of it?”
Corian sighed and kept digging through his things. “It’s not just about me either, but I get out of it what the rest of the Earthside magicals will get out of it, and if everything works out the way it’s supposed to, you’ll be changing things for O’gúleesh across the border, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is you mastered another ability and locked another section of the box into place. You’re getting loud and bright now, kid. Like a comet.”
The guy’s lost his mind.
“Please tell me something that makes sense. I’m sick of riddles and analogies everyone thinks I’m supposed to understand.”
“You’ll understand eventually. When you’re—”
“Ready. Yeah, I get it. Look, I’ve had a seriously messed-up day, and I thought I’d come over here to try not getting my ass kicked again so we can speed this thing up. Are we gonna go through another portal to train some more, or what?”
“Not tonight. Ah.” Corian removed a small tin box from beneath a pile of unfolded clothes and set it to the side on the shelf. Then he jiggled the lid until it came free with a metallic squeal and pulled out a long, thin silver chain with a round pendant dangling from the end. “But this will help.”
“You said it was your job to train me,” Cheyenne muttered.
“I did, and that’s true. But I have other things to take care of. One of those is trying to maintain a speck of sanity in this town with all those missing kids.” The Nightstalker whispered something unintelligible, gestured with one hand while the chain dangled from his other fist, then lifted the pendant to blow on it. Then he flicked the pendant with his finger, and a burst of silver light flared in a bright circle around the necklace before quickly fading. “If you saw what’s happening on the forum, kid,
