Cheyenne blinked. “To the best of your knowledge?”
“Yep.”
“Do I have to ask how many other drow you’ve taught?”
Mattie glanced at the ceiling in amusement. “’Trained’ has a better ring to it, yeah? And no, you don’t have to ask. I’ll tell you. I’ve met only a handful of drow in my lifetime, and I trained none of them. Beyond that, you’re the first halfling I’ve ever seen in the flesh. Of either color. So this is the perfect opportunity for us both.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.” Cocking her head, Cheyenne tried to wipe the smile of disbelief off her face, but it wouldn’t budge. “Taking advice from someone who’s never trained a drow or a halfling doesn’t sound like my best option.”
“How so?”
“Huh. I don’t know. Maybe just the insignificant fact neither of us knows what we’re doing.” The half-drow offered an exaggerated shrug, her arms spread wide over the armrests. “And you’re not making a strong case.”
“Hmm.” Stroking her chin again, Mattie feigned consideration and nodded. She stared past Cheyenne’s armchair at the blank wall of her office. “You want a strong case? Well, I worked with hundreds of orcs before I came through. Hundreds. So, training you should be a piece of cake.”
Cheyenne leaned over her lap, casting her professor a sidelong glance as if she might have heard her wrong. “You did what now?”
“Orcs. And, new rule, we never bring that up again after today.”
A huff of surprise escaped the half-drow. “What are the old rules?”
Mattie tossed a dismissive hand in the air. “There aren’t any. I’m making this up as I go.”
“And I’m not an orc!”
“Neither am I. Didn’t stop me from being the best damn…well, from doing my job.”
Cheyenne shook her head and stared at her programming professor. “Show me.”
“That’s what I was waiting to hear.” Mattie grinned. “I’m glad your decision—”
“I’ve not decided. Not yet.” The half-drow squinted at the other woman and looked her up and down from the top of Mattie’s wavy black hair to her neon-yellow Chucks. “Show me why you’re so sure you can do this.”
Mattie’s eyes narrowed. She stiffened. “Oh, I can do this. Trust me.”
“Prove it. “
Professor Bergmann didn’t break Cheyenne’s gaze, even when the woman’s fingers bent and curled in her lap in a complicated pattern. The air around Mattie’s body shimmered, then she changed—same height, same dark hair, same hazel eyes, only backlit by a soft golden light now, the pupils widened and elongated into something inhuman. Like cat eyes. Her lips parted in a feral smile and revealed sharp white teeth. Cheyenne expected a few whiskers to sprout beside that smile. Mattie’s flattened nose twitched.
“What are you?” Cheyenne whispered.
“What I’ve always been.” Mattie’s voice was lower, smoother, and filled with amusement. “And that’s none of your business. You’re not here to learn about me or how I do what I do. Everything you need to know about harnessing your magic and making it do what you want, I can and will show you. Believe me, Cheyenne, I haven’t survived this long by mere luck. And, as far as I can tell, luck is the only thing on your side right now.”
Cheyenne studied her professor’s feline appearance. If I had luck on my side, I wouldn’t have missed that stupid orc last night. I would’ve made him pay, and I would’ve kept Ember out of the hospital.
“Luck runs out,” Mattie added. “Unless you learn how to make your own.” Her hands moved together in an even quicker pattern. She pulled them apart, and the human guise of Professor Bergmann returned.
“That’s what you’re calling it?” Cheyenne smirked. “Making your own luck?”
“Some people think that’s what magic is. I can show you so much more. This is just an illusion for me.” Mattie gestured toward her face. “Like wearing a piece of jewelry without ever taking it off. And it’s served me well. You, though? Using makeup and nose rings and this whole getup,” she eyed Cheyenne’s black shirt with the safety pins studded around the collar, “to hide what you are. I’m guessing that doesn’t work during intense situations.”
“You could say that.” Cheyenne rubbed the corner of her eye and fought back a wry laugh. “So, let’s begin with you showing me how to do that whole illusion thing.”
“No.” Mattie folded her hands in her lap again. “Halflings don’t need an illusion to hide in this world. You need control. Over yourself, your abilities, and your emotions. Without control, you’re a sparkler over gunpowder.”
Cheyenne snorted. “I don’t need a therapist.”
“I have enough students coming to me with their problems, trust me.” With a sigh, Mattie tipped her head back and peered at the ceiling. A dreamy smile grew on her lips. “You might just be the only one I can teach to get over them.”
The office fell silent. The professor didn’t move for long enough to make it feel like she’d forgotten about Cheyenne being there.
The half-drow cleared her throat. “So, when are we gonna do this?”
Mattie glanced at her wristwatch and shrugged. “Office hours, Cheyenne. Might as well do something useful with them.”
A flutter of excitement churned in Cheyenne’s stomach. She forced it down and pressed her lips together.
I’m about to start training with drow magic. For real.
“Yeah, now’s good.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Now is always the best time to do anything worthwhile.” Mattie slapped the armrests with a dull thump and pushed to her feet. “Get up.”
Cheyenne did as she was told,
