“You okay?” the halfling asked.
The guard stiffened, then turned his head but didn’t quite manage to look at her over his shoulder. “Busy day.”
With a pissed-off Sir storming through the front doors? Yeah, I bet.
When they finally reached the bottom level, the elevator creaked open, and the guard shoved the metal grate back against one side before gesturing for them to get out. The minute Cheyenne and Rhynehart stood in the first corridor of the Dungeon, the metal grate clanged back and the guard took the elevator back up.
Even through the reinforced seal between the booth and the stone walls, Cheyenne heard the echoing bang of more doors shutting in the main chamber of the prison’s visitation cell. Muffled curses rang out, followed by a low chuckle. Or maybe it’s just for L’zar.
The halfling glanced at Rhynehart and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look so terrified, man. It’s not like you’re going in there with me.”
“I’m not—” He gave an aggravated sigh and shook his head. “You’re gonna keep rubbing it in, aren’t you?”
“Until it stops bothering you, yeah.” Cheyenne took off down the damp stone corridor. The guard stationed in the booth stared at her through the wall of windows. When she reached the door, she thought for a few seconds the guy wouldn’t let her in. He finally slapped a hand on the controls, but the halfling had to open the door herself. She stepped into the booth and moved aside in the cramped space to make room for Rhynehart. “I’m back.”
“Good for you.” The guard’s eyebrows lifted and dropped, then he nodded at Rhynehart. “Finally let you take the plunge, huh?”
The FRoE agent shrugged. “First time for everything, I guess.”
“Yeah. Lotta firsts goin’ on around here.” Once Rhynehart closed the door, the guard shuffled toward the other side of the booth and nodded out the other wall of windows. “He’s all yours. Word this week is Batman.”
“Really?”
“Hey, safe words are above my paygrade. I just hand ‘em out and wait to hear it shouted. Or not. Both of you headin’ in this time?”
“No.” Rhynehart and the halfling blurted it at the same time, and Rhynehart shuffled backward as far as he could in the narrow booth, rubbing his mouth.
“Yeah, I’d probably stick by that choice too.”
Cheyenne scanned the countless buttons covering the control console. “Can you turn the sound off in here?”
The guard snorted. “Not for you. It takes special clearance. You ready?”
She nodded and stared out into the darkness of the Dungeon. That might come in handy.
When the guard pressed another button and the door buzzed open with a little click, the drow halfling didn’t hesitate. She pushed open the door this time and stepped into the main cavern. Her nose filled with the scent of damp stone and a stronger metallic odor and the same undertone of freshly baked bread.
The booth’s door banged shut behind her, and she didn’t turn around this time before stalking across the open space toward the thick iron bars running floor to ceiling and the huge half-circle of prison cell on the other side.
L’zar was waiting for her, his arms folded and his body turned sideways toward the bars as she approached. Bright white teeth flashed at her from behind his slate-gray lips, and his bone-white hair was pulled back behind his head a little tighter this time. “I wait twenty-one years, and now it’s twice in four days. Just can’t stay away, can you?”
“I tried.” Cheyenne stopped near the bars, echoing her drow father’s posture and folding her arms too. She didn’t grab the chair this time. “But I didn’t come back just for me.”
“That’s a sweet gesture, kid, but I’m doin’ okay. Got the luxury suite and everything.” L’zar spread his arms and gazed around the cell with another low chuckle.
“Not here for you either, but there might be something we can both get out of this.” The halfling lifted her chin and waited for him to settle his attention on her again.
His gaze fell to the pendant against her turtleneck and the Heart of Midnight stone at its center. L’zar’s eyebrows lifted, and he stepped toward the iron bars before leaning sideways against them. “That’s a nice little bauble.”
The halfling studied her father’s face and took a deep breath. They can hear everything in the booth. Careful. “You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? And you know who gave it to me.”
L’zar’s lips parted in the same feral grin. The image of her dream flashed without warning through Cheyenne’s mind—this drow looking at her, not with self-satisfaction and a secret knowing, but with fear and pain contorting his face. She shook it away and stood her ground in front of the bars.
“I should.” The drow’s eyes lingered on the stone, then slowly traveled up to his daughter’s face. “I gave it to him.”
“Right. Well, you should know we’ve started.”
“You have?” L’zar’s smile and wide golden eyes went from feral to crazed, maybe even starving. “That’s very good to hear.”
What’s good for me is good for him, right? The halfling nodded and stepped toward the bars, lowering her voice. “I heard you can tell me how to speed things up.”
“Look at you. Now you’re asking the right questions.” Another chuckle escaped the prisoner, ending in a low growl. Then he took one lunging step toward the bars and wrapped those long, slender fingers of purple-gray around them. “I would love to, Cheyenne.”
She took a quick, small step back, leaning away from the mad glow of those eyes between the bars.
He chuckled again. “How have your dreams been lately?”
Pressing her lips together, the halfling took a deep breath and stood her ground. He’s talking in riddles. Talk back. “Only the scion never pursued will
