Then the halfling became the portal, rising higher than any of the jutting spears of black stone, stretching out like the black wall of shimmering light across the entire clearing. The tentacles waving around and bashing the fallen drow bodies were her black tendrils of magic shooting from unseen hands.
The beetle-thing shrieked and jumped around to face her. When it reared on its back legs and exposed its underbelly, L’zar’s distorted face had replaced the nightmarish creature’s gaping red mouth, and when he spoke, Bianca Summerlin’s voice emerged. “Blood bonds with blood tied to chaos. Everything has a price!”
* * *
With a startled gasp, Cheyenne jolted up in her bed. “Jesus, these fucking dreams.”
She ran the back of her hand across her forehead and the thin layer of sweat coating it. Hissing in frustration, the halfling tugged at the hem of her baggy hoodie. The front of it was soaked through with sweat, making the thing almost impossible to peel off. She finally got it over her head and tossed it onto the floor with a heavy thump.
“Gross.” After trying to air out her long-sleeved shirt, she dropped her hands onto the bed. “Like that’s gonna work.”
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she woke the screen and blinked at the time. Seven fifty-two. Is that...yep. Eleven hours of sleep.
The halfling ran a hand through her sweat-soaked hair and scratched her head a little. Then she slid off the bed and went to the window. The blackout curtains rustled when she swept them aside. Morning sunlight spilled into her room, and she jerked her head away with a groan. Good thing my class schedule changed.
Her hand rose to the Heart of Midnight pendant, which was resting a little higher on her breastbone now that she’d tied so many knots in the repeatedly broken silver chain. Looks like this thing’s starting to wear off. Not so great for trying to lay low.
Cheyenne pulled the blackout curtain over the window again, rolled her shoulders, and nodded. A small, pulsing ache rose from her left ankle, and she stuck out her foot to look down at the puncture marks around the hem of her pantleg. Should’ve looked at that sooner.
Grimacing, the halfling went back to her backpack on the floor, sat beside it, and pulled out the brown glass jar of healing salve Yadje had given her. When she rolled up her pantleg, she sucked in a hissing breath and studied the half-dozen round punctures encircling her ankle. “Ugh. Could be worse, I guess.”
She bent her knee to pull her ankle closer as she gave the jar’s lid a quick twist. The sharp smell of rotting strawberries blasted her in the face, making her nostrils flare. Anything less than a knife wound, huh? I’m trusting you, R’mahr.
The white salve was thick and sticky, stretching like taffy when she scooped out the first bit with her fingers. “Great. Like putting Persh’al’s mohawk gel on a magical monster bite.” She snorted, got the stringy goo to separate, and dabbed a little onto the first puncture.
An icy jolt shot through her ankle, followed by a searing heat that flared all the way to the tips of her toes. Cheyenne sucked in a sharp breath and thumped her fist on the polished wooden floor beneath her. “Shit.”
With watering eyes, she squinted at her ankle and leaned forward for a better look. The agonizing burn subsided a little, and the puncture wound sealed itself from the inside out, closing up muscle and split skin until there was nothing left but flakes of dried blood. A low chuckle of surprise escaped her. “Oh, shit.”
The halfling stared at the glob of white goo on the tips of her fingers and grinned. “This is gonna suck.”
She transferred a bit into her other hand, rubbed her fingers together, then breathed deeply and smeared the salve over the other puncture wounds encircling her ankle. Clenching her teeth, she grunted and threw her head back to grimace at the ceiling while the salve burned through her leg and five more wounds. The halfling beat the floor with the heel of her fist, forcing herself to breathe through it and count. Twenty seconds, then the pain subsided enough for her to lean forward and watch the other five holes seal up around her ankle.
Just to be sure, she ran her fingers along the perfectly smooth healed skin, then dusted off flakes of dried blood. Just like that. Damn. I’d take a black-magic potion to the shoulder over that any day.
Cheyenne snorted, then a sharp laugh escaped her. When she imagined herself stuffing those two holes in her shoulder with darktongue salve from a socially confused troll, the halfling doubled over and howled with laughter. Here I am. Finally lost my mind.
It took her another minute to calm down, then she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with the back of a hand and sniffed. Another chuckle escaped her, and the fully healed drow halfling shook her head before closing the jar. “Hell of a way to start the day. Jesus.”
She stood, absently wiped the last of the sticky salve on her pantlegs, then opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the apartment.
“Someone’s in a better mood,” Ember called from the kitchen. The halfling peered across the apartment, squinting with heavy eyelids until the
