“Just wait.”
“Hey, I know when I’m not wanted, and I didn’t come here to be stared at like some freak in a circus.” She spun around and headed toward the open door into the dark passageway beyond.
“Cheyenne.”
The second she reached the huge wooden door, it swung shut on its own with a resounding boom. She whirled and glared at the back of Persh’al’s head and his limp mohawk. “Tell me what’s going on, or I’ll blast my way through this!”
“Blood bonds with blood.” The deep voice echoed from the other side of the massive chamber, and a hulking dark shape appeared from one of the open tunnels beneath a glowing red O’gúleesh rune. When the hulking raug stepped into the light, and everyone turned to look at him, the chamber fell deathly silent.
How the hell did Gúrdu get here before we did?
But it wasn’t Gúrdu. This raug was much older, his gray skin wrinkled and lined with age. He shuffled forward, thumping a gnarled cane on the ground with every step. Persh’al turned to meet Cheyenne’s gaze and dipped his head.
“You’ve heard that before, haven’t you?” the raug growled as he limped toward the front of the chamber.
Cheyenne gritted her teeth and forced herself to reply. “More than once.”
The raug stepped onto the widening path the other magicals made for him, passing Persh’al without a second glance. He stopped in front of Cheyenne, towering over her by at least a foot. He took a long, whistling sniff of the air, then snorted in her face.
She jerked her head away from the hot breath rustling through her hair but didn’t look away from the glowing orange-brown eyes studying her. “Step back.”
Persh’al sucked in a sharp breath.
The raug’s eyes narrowed, then he stepped aside, thumping his cane on the stone floor with a crack before addressing everyone else. “This is not the drow we hoped to see in our midst, but she is not the wrong drow.”
The other magicals shuffled their feet and exchanged wary glances.
“You can’t know that.” An orc missing half an ear grimaced, his thick lower lip curling around two thick tusks painted black.
“Persh’al said to look closer.” The raug snorted and waved a red-clawed hand at Cheyenne. “And you idiots closed your eyes. Open them and see who stands before you.”
The old one left Cheyenne’s side and headed back through the wide-eyed magicals. His thumping cane stopped in front of the massive black table, where he lowered himself into a chair and closed his eyes with a long, growling sigh.
The catlike woman with five tails cocked her head and pointed at Cheyenne. “Tell us who you are.”
The halfling lifted her chin. “Cheyenne Summerlin.”
Persh’al cast a wary glance at the suspicious crowd, then hurried over and stopped beside her with his back to the others. He leaned slightly toward her and whispered, “I know you don’t like the way it tastes, kid, but you gotta tell them what they wanna hear. Your name doesn’t mean anything in this room, but you know the name that does.”
She shot him a sidelong glance. “Are you kidding me?”
He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows.
This is my coming-out party, huh? Guess it had to happen sooner or later.
With flaring nostrils, Cheyenne looked away from the blue troll beside her and folded her arms. It was a lot easier to say the words she hated when she was staring at the far wall of the chamber instead of the hungry eyes of suspicious magicals.
“My name is Cheyenne Summerlin. And my—” She swallowed and grimaced. Just fucking say it. “My father is L’zar Verdys.”
Her words echoed through the chamber, and no one moved.
Persh’al nudged her with his elbow as a slow, triumphant smile spread across his lips. “Nicely done.”
Cheyenne shook her head and kept staring at the back wall.
“Persh’al,” the black-and-red magical growled. “What is it?”
The blue troll stepped forward, gesturing at the scowling halfling. “You heard the drow. This is what happens next.”
“He did it?” A troll with rings of jagged black tattoos encircling his arms glanced at Persh’al and Cheyenne. “He broke through?”
“Endaru’s balls, man. Come on. You’ve got Foltr’s seal of approval and heard it straight from Cheyenne’s mouth. This is L’zar’s kid standing here. How much more proof do you need?”
The magical hidden within the black cloak reared back and bellowed with laughter. The startling sound seemed to break the others out of their shocked silence, and everyone started yelling.
“That fell-damn drow should have come himself!”
“Why’d you bring her here?”
“We need to move now!”
Glancing slowly away from the back wall of the chamber, Cheyenne cocked her head and looked at Nu’ek. The golra stood like a hulking statue at the side of the chamber, her red-furred arms folded. Then she met Cheyenne’s gaze and gave a small, barely imperceptible shake of her head.
L’zar left them all here and expected everyone to sit tight and wait for his signal. He should’ve expected chaos.
“All right, hold on.” Persh’al raised his hands to quiet the others down, but it was useless.
“Right here in the city, Persh’al? Have you lost your mind?”
“Not the last time I checked.”
“If she’s spotted here, we lose everything!”
“She won’t be.”
“We need L’zar. Does his daughter know the first thing about what’s required of her?”
Persh’al clenched his fists. “You know what? If you’ll just shut up and listen to me, I’ll tell you.”
“We’ve been waiting quietly for centuries! If L’zar’s not here to tell us himself, what the hell are we supposed to do?”
The shouting continued, and Persh’al dropped his hands. He looked at Nu’ek, and the golra rolled her eyes. Then she stomped her clawed foot, her talons shrieking on the stone floor and sending up a spray of sparks, and roared. The chamber shook, knocking dust loose from the ceiling, and everyone stopped.
“Shut your useless mouths and sit down!” Nu’ek growled, her wings stretched to their full span as she glared at the magicals who said they were loyal to L’zar’s cause.
