Chapter Ninety-Six
The only sound now was the soft whisper of Cheyenne’s Vans across the stone floor and the steady trickle of more than one thin stream of water running down the stone walls of the cavern. From somewhere behind those thick bars, she heard the slow, steady breathing of the magical enclosed within them.
One of those cheap metal folding chairs sat several feet from the bars, but Cheyenne didn’t move to grab it. She wasn’t sure if she’d want to take a seat, or if she had enough time to pretend to make herself comfortable on this side of the giant cell. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause or slow on her way to the bars, and when she got about two yards from them, a shadow moved inside the cell.
A second later, L’zar Verdys stepped toward the bars and into the yellow glow of the lights mounted on the walls. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, thin but still in good shape, with the same purple-gray skin Cheyenne had been seeing on herself for at least the last fifteen years. L’zar’s long, straight white hair was tied behind his head in a loose bun, some shorter pieces of it having come loose to fall down the sides of his forehead. The tips of his pointed drow ears rose from that bone-white hair, and glowing golden eyes stared at Cheyenne Summerlin from the other side of the bars. The drow wrapped his hands around the iron bars on either side of him, the long, slender fingers pressing into the metal one at a time. Then he leaned a little closer and smiled, almost in disbelief.
“Wow. You look just like her, you know that?”
His soft, low voice sent a shiver across Cheyenne’s shoulders and down her back. She wasn’t sure yet whether it was the good kind of shiver or the kind that would send her back across that cavern toward the booth at any minute. This is him. This is my dad.
Without knowing why, she stepped closer and spread her arms by her sides. Her drow magic burst to life at the base of her spine, and the transformation washed over her.
L’zar’s golden eyes widened, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah. Now you look like me. Even better.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other, father and daughter, both of them looking like full-blooded drow. L’zar sniffed at the air once, twice, and glanced at his daughter’s arm. “What happened to your shoulder?”
That’s the first question he wants to ask me?
“Acid burn. And something else put in there that had no business being there.”
L’zar’s smile widened into a dazzling grin, his white teeth flashing even in the dull light. “It’s not there anymore, is it?” She shook her head. “Not healing, either.”
“Doesn’t look like it, no.”
The drow’s golden eyes flicked over Cheyenne’s shoulder toward the booth on the other side of the cavern. Then he slid his hand through the bars and waved her toward him. “Come here. I wanna show you something.”
The halfling paused, but only for a second. She wasn’t trying to slip the man anything, and the guard behind her had said that everything else was fair game. If L’zar wanted to show her something, she couldn’t very well say no at this point. She probably couldn’t have said no to him about anything.
Slowly, Cheyenne moved forward until she stood close enough to touch L’zar’s hand without having to straighten her arm. But she didn’t.
He nodded at her shoulder again. “Let me see.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face, and she didn’t look away from him as she tugged the neck of her black shirt down over her shoulder. Then she peeled off the medical tape and one side of the folded gauze bandage that had been the best she could do and let it dangle down her arm from the last few pieces of tape.
L’zar tsked, eyes narrowed in disapproval. “These idiots don’t know the first thing about who they’re dealing with on a day-to-day basis, and I’m not just talking about me. Come on. Just a little closer.”
She took one more step, standing just inches away from the bars. There was no doubt now that the fresh-baked-bread smell came from L’zar, mixed with something like lemongrass. The warmth of his long, graceful hand touched her shoulder before his fingers did, and it was just the lightest touch. Cheyenne hardly felt the contact, but she most definitely felt what happened next.
A dull gold glow slowly came to life beneath L’zar’s fingers and sent an icy shock through Cheyenne’s shoulder and down into her fingertips. She sucked in a breath through her teeth but didn’t move.
Another chuckle escaped him as he looked up at her, his next smile just big enough to show a hint of those dazzling white teeth. “It gets better.”
Then he returned his attention to her shoulder, and the chill of his spell bloomed into a gentle warmth that was nothing like the pain she’d dealt with for days or the raging, sparking heat of her drow magic. A few seconds later, her father removed his hand and wrapped it around one of the bars again.
“That should feel a little better.”
The halfling finally looked away from him to glance down at her shoulder. Where there had once been two deep holes burned into her skin by Q’orr’s black-magic sludge, now there were two circular smudges of dried blood.
She flipped the gauze bandage back up and slipped her shirt over that. “Thanks.”
L’zar’s lips twitched in and out of another smile. “Any time.”
Without knowing what else to say or how to start the conversation she’d spent hours imagining in endless variations, Cheyenne just stood there and studied her father’s face. Apparently, L’zar didn’t have the same
