“Ha!” Mattie glanced back up at her and grinned. “Nice try. But no. That’s not what you’re looking for, is it?”
“Wouldn’t work on me anyway.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.” The woman opened drawers, rummaged around, and closed them again. “Damn. I forgot to bring it back in once the semester started. I’ve got a…a collection of really great recipes for salves, some healing potions, and painkillers. Not sure how much of it will be useful to you.”
“Lemme guess. Nothing’s been tested on a drow halfling, huh?”
“You’re catching on, kid. But it’s worth a shot, right? You don’t want those holes in your shoulder to get any worse.”
“Nope.” Cheyenne clenched her right hand into a fist and breathed through her throbbing shoulder. “Kinda slows me down.”
Mattie looked quickly back at her student and blinked. “That’s borderline more than I want to hear. You know what? I’ll put together copies of what I have over the weekend for you. You can pick ‘em up on Monday when you stop by. If you want to stop by.”
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
“Excellent.” The professor snorted and shrugged. “Never thought I’d have much of a use Earthside for those stolen recipes—”
She blinked at the ceiling, realizing what she’d let slip.
“Stolen, huh?” Cheyenne gripped the backpack strap with both hands now. “Is that why you crossed the Border to live off the radar in Richmond?”
“Oh, hardly.” Mattie rolled her eyes. “And we’re not getting into that. But come in for office hours on Monday, and I’ll have something for you.”
“Okay. What about illusion spells?”
Tilting her head, the professor pursed her lips and studied the halfling. “What about them?”
“I just saw some things this morning that might be useful for me to know. Potions, I guess. An illusion spell. This one actually was a piece of jewelry, like you mentioned a while ago.”
Mattie stuck her hands on her hips and nodded. Her smile widened as she looked the halfling up and down. “You want to break into the learned magic, don’t you?”
“If that’s what all that is, then yeah. I guess. Can’t hurt, right?”
“It most certainly can, if you don’t have the right ingredients. Or the right teacher to show you what not to confuse during the complicated gestures. Spells are a whole different level. You think you’re ready for that?”
Cheyenne gave her professor a deadpan stare. “Think you’re ready to teach me?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. All this stuff is more of a ‘practice on your own time’ kinda thing. Assuming you don’t blow yourself up in the process. But sure. I’ll get you started.”
“Thanks.” The halfling stood there while her professor nodded and settled back into the chair behind her desk. “So is there a better time to go knock on this Gúrdu guy’s door, or do I have to make an appointment?”
“Ha. The minute you decide to head on over there, kid, he’ll know you’re coming. Trust me.”
“That’s not creepy.”
“That’s Oracles for ya.” Mattie winked.
“I can’t wait,” Cheyenne added dully, then nodded at her professor before turning toward the office door. “If you could email me those healing recipes or whatever, sooner might be better than later.”
“Come on. It can’t be that bad.”
The halfling shrugged. “I hope not.”
“Sure thing, Cheyenne. I’ll send you an email before your shoulder falls off.”
With a snort, the half-drow stepped out of the office, shaking her head. At least she had something she could act on immediately. Even stopping by for an unpredictable visit with a Raug Oracle was better than sitting around doing nothing.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
The armband helped her get off campus again without anyone seeing anything except a Goth chick in all black one second, and nothing the next. Cheyenne wasn’t about to repeat the mistake of leaving her car on the frontage road where anyone could find it. And use it. I just got the cigarette stench aired out.
Gúrdu’s address took her to the industrial side of Richmond, right by the canal walk and Triple Crossing. There were old warehouses, boarded-up factories, and a run-down theater. She pulled onto a narrow side street and stopped at a four-story brick apartment building that looked like it should have been as abandoned as everything else. She stared up at the stained brick and the ironwork around the windows, doors, and the fire escape, then got out of her car with her backpack over her shoulder and locked up.
A cat screamed somewhere on the other side of the alley beside the building, followed by a quick series of hisses and a metal trashcan falling over. Cheyenne ignored it all and headed for the front door to the apartment building. It was propped open by a broken cinderblock, the entry filled with scattered clumps of dirt and dry leaves.
Taking the sticky note out of her pocket again, she double-checked the apartment number and shrugged.
A rising series of muted clucking came from down the hall, where faded light from outside poured through another open door at the other end.
“Out! Get out, you obnoxious little scavengers.”
Three chickens burst from an open apartment door all the way down on the left, squawking and fluttering and running wildly in every direction. A woman with her hair wrapped up in a bandana and wearing patched, flowing skirts chased two more chickens out of her apartment with the end of a broom.
“Ma! Come on. They don’t have anywhere else to go.”
The woman whirled around and pointed her broom into the apartment. “And you won’t have anywhere else to go if you keep bringing vermin into my house—”
“They’re chickens. Not vermin.”
“I don’t care if you brought in the Cu’ón himself. He’d get a good whack from me just the same. I didn’t spend all my hard-earned coin for that damn trip to see my own flesh and blood hand it all away to every—” The door slammed shut behind the woman as she disappeared inside again, her shout instantly
