M. Bergmann
“Great.” Cheyenne rubbed a hand over her face and glanced at the clock. It was almost 2:30 p.m., which meant she had an hour and a half until Mattie packed up her little briefcase on wheels and rolled swiftly out of her magically-locking office. “Yeah, I should let her know what’s going on. And those answers would be nice.”
The halfling’s phone beeped in succession after it finished charging. Five days of being incapacitated at a secret FRoE compound didn’t leave a lot of room for plugging in one’s phone. Cheyenne glanced at it and saw a missed call from a number she didn’t recognize and another call from her mom, followed by a voicemail.
“Oh, boy.” The half-drow pulled up the voicemail and put her phone on speaker.
“Cheyenne, you left in such a hurry the other day, we didn’t finish our conversation. I haven’t heard from you since, so I’m extending the invitation one more time. I hope whatever came up on Thursday has been resolved. You’re busy. You have a life, as it should be, and I understand that. Get back to me, dear.”
That was the full message. No, “It’s your mother calling.” No, “I’m a little worried, and I hope you’re okay.” No, “I love you. Goodbye.” Bianca didn’t believe in leaving unnecessary details on voicemails. Those were reserved for face-to-face conversations.
I’m gonna have to have another face-to-face with her soon. Whatever she had to show me about my father has more to do with the FRoE than I realized. Especially considering those people still have no idea who I am.
With another sigh, Cheyenne closed her laptop and stuck it in her backpack. She dropped it on the floor in front of the passenger seat and buckled up. “Never thought I’d have this big a mess to clean up after going AWOL for five days.”
She pulled out of the Walmart lot and headed across Richmond toward Virginia Commonwealth University campus. Mattie’s answers first. I’ll call Mom when I get home and see what kind of chaos has been brewing on the Borderlands forum.
After everything she’d seen last week, Cheyenne was certain the forum for underground magicals on the dark web would have plenty to say about Thursday night’s events between the FRoE operatives and the massive meeting of magical crime lords.
“And I’m still looking for the orc asshole who shot Ember.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Cheyenne cut through the hall in the Computer Sciences building at 3:15, which meant she had forty-five minutes until Professor Mattie Bergmann hustled out of her university-provided workspace once her office hours were up. The door was open, as usual, but the half-drow knocked anyway.
Mattie sat behind her desk, which was against the right-hand wall, her wavy dark hair piled into a loose bun. She jerked her head up from her computer screen, and her lips popped open in surprise. “Cheyenne.”
“I know I’m a little late.”
The professor huffed out a wry laugh. “A little. Come in and shut the door.”
Cheyenne did and slid her backpack off her shoulders and onto the floor against the bookshelf. Mattie examined her with a narrow-eyed gaze, then stood from behind her desk.
She probably thinks I only have three outfits.
The drow halfling and the professor stared at each other and Mattie lifted her chin. “Did you get my email?”
“About an hour ago, yeah.”
“I sent it this morning after you didn’t show up to class.”
“I know.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in her huge, baggy pockets and felt the FRoE burner phone at the very bottom. “I got kinda held up.”
“That’s your excuse?” Bergmann moved around to the front of her desk and sat on the edge, propping her elbow on the opposite hand around her waist so she could rub her fingers over her lips. “You got held up.”
“In a nutshell, yeah.”
“Okay. Should I be worried?”
Cheyenne shook her head. “I’m still here. If you were worried about a specific drow halfling getting picked up and shipped off somewhere she doesn’t belong, now you have proof there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Uh-huh.” The professor lowered her head and peered at Cheyenne without bothering to hide her suspicion. “You’re not going to tell me where you were or what happened, are you?”
“It’s better if I don’t. At least until I figure out what happened. And what’s gonna happen next.” And whether I can trust these FRoE people.
“Right. Well, you look like crap.”
Cheyenne grinned. “Thanks.”
The office fell silent, then Mattie put her hands together. “Well. We still have a little time left before I’m outta here. I could use a break from the boring part of my job. Wanna make the most of it?”
“If you insist.” Cheyenne walked across the woman’s office toward the armchairs on the far side, which the professor hadn’t bothered to fix or replace over the weekend after Cheyenne’s magical training had left charred holes in one of them. Halfway there, the drow halfling slowed and tried to hide her limp. Her hip still throbbed, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been after Rhynehart’s impromptu training session.
It’s not like a five-day disappearance and an unexplained limp are an everyday thing for grad students.
When she turned, Mattie was frowning. “You know, I feel obligated to pry.”
“You can try.” Cheyenne shrugged. “I can’t tell you anything right now.”
“Because it’ll put you in danger?”
“Probably not.” It’d probably put her in danger, though. Saying that out loud won’t help.
“Okay, fine. Keep your secrets, halfling.” Mattie gave her student a dismissive wave. “I don’t wanna know most of them
