“K’shul?”
“You.” The orc jabbed a finger at the goblin without taking his eyes off Cheyenne. “Shut it.”
“Can you guys at least take this outside?” The goblin glanced at the main room of his store and grimaced. “I can’t do anything with a—”
K’shul let out a mixed bark and battle cry. He leapt away from the goblin and started circling Cheyenne.
She lifted a handful of crackling, churning magic. Purple sparks flew from her palm. “If that’s how you want it, I’ll play.”
The orc could only move back and forth in a half-circle around her, seeing as she stood between him and the entrance to the backroom. He came closer each time and slashed at the air with his blade. In his other hand, he conjured a humming ball of silver that vibrated above his palm. Cheyenne cast it a dubious glance before K’shul came at her.
She went on the offensive, ducking a knife swipe and sending a lash of black sparks out. She would have hit home, but the silver orb in his hand flashed and the air in front of him shimmered, deflecting her attack and sending it careening across the shop. A mannequin crashed to the floor, jewelry and a snapped strand of beads skittering across the floor.
“Come on,” the goblin shrieked.
Cheyenne released two more attacks, one at K’shul’s feet and the other at his head. The silver orb’s shield deflected them both, and she dropped her hands to her sides with an irritated shrug. “Fine. Your way.”
The orc took two lunging strides toward her and slashed out with the knife. She dodged it, slipping to the side and out of his reach. He shouted in frustration, spittle gleaming on his huge lower lip between his protruding tusks. The blade came down again and again, and Cheyenne let off another attack just to be sure. It bounced off the shield and nearly singed the goblin, who leapt shrieking from his chair.
The halfling let the knife-wielding orc close in on her. The next time he swung out with the blade, she caught his forearm between both of hers, shoving down on the inside of his elbow and jerking his wrist in the other direction. K’shul stumbled forward with a grunt, and Cheyenne grabbed his shoulders and lifted a knee into his gut. The silver orb toppled from his hand and disappeared before it hit the floor.
Doubled over, K’shul swiped out with an empty, meaty hand. She caught his arm in her armpit and clamped down on it with her elbow, then kneed him in the face, and jabbed her other elbow down onto the back of his neck. The orc’s shoulder crunched, and his massive weight crumpled. K’shul roared in pain, his arm dislocated at the shoulder.
Cheyenne stomped down on his thick, muscular back and pulled even harder on his arm.
“Goddamnit!” K’shul grunted, fighting for breath and drooling on the floor. “What the hell do you want?”
“Durg.” Cheyenne dug her fingers into his skin and leaned down toward his face, keeping her entire weight on his back. “I thought that was clear the last time I said it.”
“You’re insane. I don’t know who—” He bellowed when she jerked on his arm. Cheyenne felt and heard something snap. “Aiggh!Bitch!”
“Then what orc do I have to bring down who can tell me where he is?”
“You think…” K’shul gasped. “You think we all know each other?” He forced a laugh, although pain was his primary concern.
She pulled back a little and blinked. Might’ve been too quick to assume that one. “Just give me a name.”
“You’re in deep shit, you know that?” He laughed, his back bouncing up and down beneath her foot. “You got no idea what you’re messing with.”
Cheyenne dropped to her knees on his back, making him grunt again. Then she grabbed both sides of his head and bashed that thick skull against the shop’s floor. When she let go, his face hit with a thud. She climbed off the orc’s back.
“You didn’t have to go there.” She growled in frustration and shook her fists. “It wasn’t a trick question or anything.”
She lowered her glare at the goblin, Radzu, who slumped into his chair and stared with wide eyes at her. He then took in the destruction in his shop.
Cheyenne gritted her teeth and flexed her fingers, straightening to her full height of five and a half feet. “Hey.”
The goblin jerked his head to look at her.
“You know an orc named Durg?”
The shop owner shook his head. “No. But I know these guys. They’re gonna come back for me after this, and I couldn’t pay what they wanted before. Now, when the whole place is…” He gripped the sides of his purple head covered in greenish-yellow hair. “I’m screwed.”
“No, you’re not.” Cheyenne glanced at the unconscious K’shul. “They won’t come back.”
“Oh, yeah?” The goblin snorted, then his eyes widened, and he leapt from his chair. “No! You’re not turning this place into a chop shop. I won’t hold it against you that you kicked their asses, but if you try to—”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes and squatted beside the fallen orc. This time, she grabbed the arm she hadn’t dislocated and draped it over her shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning up.” She pulled the huge magical’s chest and upper torso off the ground and dragged him back through the shop, his pants mopping up the floor behind him.
The goblin stared at her. “Drow.” He shook his head and moved after her. “Your kind are surprisingly strong. Oh, look at this place!”
By the time Radzu reached the back room, Cheyenne was out the back door of the shop and dragging K’shul toward the dark-gray van in the parking lot. She dropped him on the asphalt and opened the sliding door into the back, then got to work pushing and pulling him inside.
“So, is beating up orcs in consignment stores a regular thing for you, or…”
“Huh.”
