Cheyenne shrugged. “Any chance you could help me learn some spells? A friend of mine gave me this huge book of them, and I’ve already proven I have no idea what I’m doing with them.”
“Spells, huh? How many?”
“All of them.”
Corian snorted and dipped his chin to his chest in a failed attempt to hide his laughter. “You want me to teach you all the spells in someone else’s spellbook.”
“I like to think they were personally curated. Hopefully.”
With a soft growl of indecision, the Nightstalker turned around again and took stock of the chaotically organized junk filling the shelves. “Spells come in handy, I’ll give you that. Not for fighting, but for pretty much everything else.”
“So, it’s a plus for me to know a few.”
“Yes, Cheyenne. It couldn’t hurt.” He clicked his tongue, then turned back toward her. “All right. If you want to add spells to this arrangement, that’s fine. Under two conditions.”
“Which are?”
“We hit the spellwork after your training. You should be focusing on the trials a lot more than learning fancy tricks with charms and wards. But if you think you have enough brainpower to do both, we’ll give it a shot.” He wrinkled his nose and turned back for one more sweeping glance at the overloaded shelving. “And you have to go get all the supplies. I’m almost out of everything remotely useful, and I try to stay out of Peridosh as much as possible.”
“Done. Two conditions I can totally live with.”
“Okay.” Corian nodded curtly before turning away from her and stalking across the bare concrete floors toward his cheap folding card table.
That’s my cue. “Okay.” Cheyenne turned toward the door, then stopped again, clenching her eyes shut. “Hey, do you know any way to keep people from finding me?”
The Nightstalker’s hand paused on the back of the metal chair. “Don’t take off the pendant, Cheyenne.”
“No, I mean people who already know where to find me. Like the guy who blew up my car this morning.” When he turned around again to face her, she shrugged. “I don’t like people showing up at my apartment without an invitation, and I’d really like to keep that Panamera in one piece.”
“I’d say the best way out of that situation is to find a new apartment.”
“That seems to be the only advice anyone has for me.”
“Magic and spells are great, kid, but they don’t solve all our problems. Sometimes they just make more.”
Cheyenne pressed her lips together to fight back another biting remark and decided just to nod instead. “Helpful hint. Thanks.”
She headed toward the door, stopping to drop the drow puzzle box into her backpack before slinging it over her shoulder.
“Once you find a new place, though,” he called after her, “let me know. I can show you how to cast wards that will at least keep anyone else from finding you again. You can handle the rest of it yourself.”
“That would be super helpful, yeah. Thanks.”
“Get some rest.” He pulled out the metal folding chair and sat, his attention switching from the drow halfling to the closed laptop on the table in front of him.
“See ya.” Cheyenne opened the door and stepped out into the landing of the concrete stairwell. The metallic echo fell flat when she pulled the door shut behind her, and she slipped her other arm through the second strap of her backpack to redistribute the weight. Guess I have to get used to my shoulders hurting all the time.
She moved way too slowly up the stairs, grimacing when her knee popped every time she straightened it. Or I could go with blazing through these trials and ending the fun little sparring sessions.
With a snort, she stepped off the last stair and headed across the grass toward her car. The Panamera chirped when she unlocked it, headlights flashing twice. Her backpack went into the passenger seat, then she slipped behind the wheel, closed the door, and smiled. “Getting into a car like this almost makes the pain go away.”
She brushed her fingers across the tight, glistening black leather of the steering wheel and started the engine. Too bad I can’t roll up to Peridosh in this thing. Nothin’ like making a bigger statement than last time.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Cheyenne checked the Borderlands forum again when she got home, which confirmed the fairly good feeling she’d had about the rescued kids getting back to their families. Twenty more users had posted an update on another wayward minor coming back home, though none of them mentioned how they’d been found or who’d brought them back.
Even if they know, nobody wants to openly post about the FRoE playing the neighborhood hero.
She glanced at the time. “Almost one in the morning. Yeah, I bet every single one of those kids is accounted for here before I head off to class tomorrow. Oh, shit.”
Wincing when she scooted her desk chair closer with just a little too much enthusiasm, the halfling logged onto her VCU student email address and checked for incoming emails. Mattie won’t care that I didn’t show up today, but that’s not gonna fly with everyone.
The only email she had, though, came from Professor Mattie Bergmann, which made her pause before she forced herself to at least read the subject line.
Urgent: Academic Meeting with Cheyenne Summerlin.
“Oh, boy.” The halfling clicked open the email and shut one eye. This is where the other shoe drops. Just read it already.
Dear Ms. Summerlin,
It has come to our attention that you seem to be experiencing difficulty in attending your graduate classes as scheduled this semester. As a result, the professors and staff taking part in your personal education have reached the conclusion that an alternative method for earning credits toward your graduate degree might be in the best interests of all parties involved, should you wish to continue. You are excused from attending all three of your scheduled classes this Friday in lieu of attending a meeting Saturday evening at 6:00 in the
