Sheila tilted her head. “I haven’t been able to get through to her either. The way I see it, she’s either still shell-shocked, or she doesn’t want to go home.”
“This one’s a tougher nut to crack than you are, halfling.” Sir glanced down at Durg’s niece again and snorted. “If you have any bright ideas, I’m all ears.”
The girl still hadn’t taken her eyes off Cheyenne, but she finally took a deep breath and opened her mouth. “I’ll talk to you.”
“Jesus Christ.” Sir threw his head back to scowl at the ceiling. “That’s it, huh? She says something about a goddamn necklace, and you two are best friends?”
Cheyenne ignored his outburst and nodded at the orc girl. Then she shot Sir an unamused glance. “Give us the room.”
“Not gonna happen.”
The halfling gritted her teeth and forced herself not to rip the Heart of Midnight pendant off her neck again just to blast Major Sir Carson across the room. “Look, if you’re trying to make a point that doesn’t include getting this girl back home, you shouldn’t be here.”
Sir stared at her, and the halfling joined him in a standoff she knew she would win. Bring it.
Sheila cleared her throat. “Sir.”
“What?”
“I suggest we give the room to Cheyenne and the girl.”
“Oh, you do, do ya?”
“First words in forty hours, Sir. Yes, I do.”
With a growl of frustration, Sir rocked his bottom jaw back and forth, then broke away from the halfling’s gaze. “Fine.”
Cheyenne nodded at Sheila, who raised an eyebrow and stood from the armchair.
Sir stormed toward the open door and Rhynehart, who was standing beside it. “You have ten minutes, halfling.”
“Twenty.”
The man stiffened but didn’t turn around.
The halfling gave the orc girl a small reassuring smile. “And if twenty minutes isn’t enough for our conversation and I say we need more time, we’ll get more time.”
Sir grunted and stormed into the hallway. Sheila followed him without a word. Cheyenne felt Rhynehart’s eyes on her even as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
The room fell silent. Cheyenne studied the orc girl still sitting in the chair. Normal heartbeat, clear as a bell. At least she’s not scared of me. “How’re you doin’?”
The girl shrugged. “The dude with the mustache is only entertaining for so long. After that, I just want to punch him in the face.”
Cheyenne snorted. “I know the feeling. Mind if I sit?”
“Not really.”
The halfling lowered herself into the second armchair and folded her arms. “So. Now everyone knows you can talk. Why haven’t you?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “I know FRoE agents when I see them, and I don’t trust any of them.”
“Even when they got you and the other kids out of that mansion?”
“Yeah.” Slowly, the girl leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Even then.”
“They really do want to get you home.”
“Trust me, I’d love to be home right now. My uncle’s probably crapping his pants, wondering why I haven’t turned up yet.”
Cheyenne fought back a laugh. “Somehow, that isn’t hard to imagine.”
“Yeah. You met him. He talks a big game and likes to play warlord until somebody gives him a good shakedown. Then he’s just…” The girl wrinkled her nose. “Annoying.”
“I remember.” Nodding, the halfling offered a little shrug. “I’m surprised you recognized me.”
“Your face doesn’t change with the rest of you.” Smirking, the girl studied the half-drow’s face and shrugged. “Kinda hard to forget when the only other thing you said to me was about that necklace.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’d really like to get that back, by the way. It was a custom-made thing. From a friend.”
Cheyenne nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m sure we could figure that out. Might be a little while, though. I don’t have it with me.”
“That’s cool.” The orc girl chuckled. “You know where I live.”
“Yeah.” Glancing at her lap, the half-drow couldn’t help but smile. This girl’s got guts. I’ll give her that. “What’s your name, kid?”
A frown creased the orc girl’s thick brow, and she leaned away from the halfling before looking at the closed door. “I can’t.”
“Hmm. I’m just taking a wild guess here, but something tells me you’re trying to protect your uncle.”
The girl shrugged and kept staring at the door.
“Okay. They find your name in the system, it pulls up Durg Br’athol right next to it, and you’re trying to help him keep his name clean.” Cheyenne chuckled. “At least with the FRoE, right?”
No response.
“Listen, I’m gonna tell you a little secret, okay? Well, I guess it might not be much of a secret anymore, but it might help.” The half-drow propped her forearms on her thighs. “I don’t trust the FRoE either. Not completely. Sure, they’re pretty reliable when it comes to busting the guys who need to be busted, and I know they’ve got my back when we’re in the middle of it. At least some do. But beyond that? They’re a pain in my ass.”
The girl gave a little laugh, still unable to look at Cheyenne. “You’re not FRoE.”
“I am not FRoE. More like an independent contractor.” Getting paid in visits to Chateau D’rahl.
Taking a deep breath, the orc girl slowly turned to the halfling with her yellow eyes. “My name’s not even in the system.”
“Really?” Cheyenne swallowed. “How’d you manage that?”
“Well, my Border crossing wasn’t exactly legit.”
Raising her eyebrows, the halfling leaned back in her chair again. “You were smuggled Earthside.”
“A few months ago, yeah. My uncle sent word for me, and the guys back home did their jobs.”
Durg was shaking down other magicals to pay for an unregistered crossing. I bet he just got too used to it to stop. This is getting complicated. Cheyenne clenched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, the girl didn’t look any more apologetic than she had before she’d spilled the beans. “Which reservation?”
The girl shook her head. “No rez.”
“Huh. You’re gonna have to explain that one, ‘cause I’m pretty sure a Border portal doesn’t exist
