L’zar chuckled, his hands clasped behind his back. His well-tailored suit shimmered bright-silver when he reached out to gesture at the clearing around them. “The Nós Aní have always been bound at night beneath a Nimlothar, but we don’t have time to wait for dark or find one of these trees which don’t exist Earthside. Still, tradition’s important, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” Cheyenne slipped into her jacket and glanced at each of the magicals waiting for them beneath the tree. Corian took his place beside L’zar, waving for her and Ember to join them. “So, all this is a giant illusion?”
L’zar dipped his head. “In a manner of speaking. Mostly.”
Ember easily wheeled herself across the cold, wet grass, her eyes lighting up with the pulsing glow within the illusion of the Nimlothar tree. “I can’t believe this.”
“Right there with you, Em.”
They stopped in front of a glowing silver line drawn in the grass, separating them from L’zar and the others. On the other side of that line were a silver pitcher, two silver goblets, and a wickedly sharp ceremonial dagger glinting in the artificial starlight.
Cheyenne grinned. “Hey, you guys promised no sacrifices.”
Ember snorted.
“Well, no.” L’zar studied the dagger at his feet. “That’s not for either of you.”
A new portal appeared on the halfling’s right and Maleshi stepped through, wearing a cocktail dress in a bright, startling shade of pink.
Cheyenne nudged Ember’s shoulder and nodded at the general. The fae glanced that way and laughed. “Yeah, see? She can pull it off.”
Maleshi grinned at them and stepped forward as her portal disappeared. Then she stopped in front of Ember and extended her hand. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, Ember. Maleshi Hi’et.”
“Yeah, I know.” The fae stared at her but took the nightstalker’s hand, which was covered with fine dark fur.
“I didn’t think you knew about this,” Cheyenne said as Maleshi’s glowing silver eyes met hers.
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world, kid.” The general nodded and put a hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder. “Good timing, right?”
“Sure.” The halfling laughed in disbelief and stared at the glowing trunk of the Nimlothar. “So, what now?”
Corian stepped toward the silver line in the grass.
Another portal opened across the clearing behind them. Corian’s gaze flickered that way, and his frown made Cheyenne turn around. Marsil Keldryk stepped through the oval of shimmering light, finally revealing his true form as a goblin, also in formal attire. Right behind him came Dr. Boseley, her red hair a mass of scarlet curls on top of her head.
“My physical therapist is a troll,” Ember muttered.
“Looks like it, yeah.”
Two more portals opened, then two more, and a stream of other magicals Cheyenne didn’t recognize stepped solemnly into the ceremonial clearing. She stared at each of them. All were dressed for the special occasion, and every face gazed at her with a broad, eager smile.
Marsil and Dr. Boseley had moved around the clearing to make room for the others. Cheyenne glanced at Ember, then went toward the goblin assistant. “I thought you and I reached an understanding yesterday. That included not telling people about any of this.”
“We did, Cheyenne.” Marsil smiled politely at her, though a small frown flickered across his brows. “I was invited.”
“You what?”
L’zar laughed and stepped forward as another half-dozen magicals appeared in the clearing. “We do have to keep this quiet. Mostly. But I couldn’t let you go through this without something of an audience. That’s the best part.”
“An audience.” Cheyenne stepped away from Marsil and stared at the quickly growing crowd lining the edge of the clearing. Those in front had to step forward to make room for the newcomers. “I don’t know any of these magicals.” She squinted at the newest people emerging from the portals. What’s happening?
R’mahr, Yadje, and their daughter Bryl grinned when they saw Cheyenne beneath the huge tree. Bryl bounced on her toes and waved. The halfling smiled and waved back, then scanned the other faces. That has to be Tony, and he’s an orc.
Scowling, Corian stepped toward L’zar and lowered his voice. “You sent invitations.”
“Yes, Corian.” The drow smiled at all the newcomers and didn’t bother to look his friend in the eye. “Relax. I only sent a few.”
“Really? Because they keep showing up, and I’m counting close to eighty right now.”
A large portal opened behind Marsil, and Gúrdu’s hulking gray form stepped through. Maleshi laughed when she saw him. “You too, huh?”
The raug Oracle’s orange-brown eyes narrowed at the nightstalker general. “I’m not here for you,” he growled, but a low rumble of laughter escaped him as he walked away from the Nimlothar tree to take his place among the other witnesses.
The clearing buzzed with hushed voices and eager conversation, everyone staring at the Nimlothar tree and the drow halfling standing beside her awed fae friend in the wheelchair.
L’zar cocked his head and shrugged. “Oops.”
Corian hissed. “That’s not an answer.”
“They’re excited. Word spreads quickly around here.” The drow turned toward his Nós Aní and raised an eyebrow. “They could use something to look forward to, don’t you think?”
“You should’ve been more selective.” Corian folded his arms and took a deep breath, scanning the crowd. “This many of them in one place is asking for trouble.”
“We can handle trouble, brother. Let it go and enjoy yourself.”
The nightstalker grumbled something unintelligible, and when he caught Cheyenne listening to the conversation, he shook his head and turned away.
She kept watching him and didn’t miss the exasperated glance he shot Maleshi. The war general grinned at him and spread her arms.
“So much for feeling ridiculous in front of five other magicals in a warehouse,” Ember muttered.
“Sorry, Em. I had no idea it was happening like this.”
The fae glanced up at her friend with an unsure smile. “But it’s happening.”
“Yeah. Whatever it is.”
L’zar glanced at Cheyenne. “You’ll do the rest of this as a drow.”
Nodding quickly, Cheyenne summoned the flare of her magic up the base of her spine, and she made the transformation
