Her father spread his arms wide and cocked his head. “Let’s begin.”
Chapter Sixty-One
“Seeing as things are a little different for this binding, I hope nobody holds it against me if I ditch the old tongue for one that’s more realm-appropriate.” L’zar grinned as the crowd of magicals chuckled politely.
Corian stood behind him and to the side, his arms folded and his scowl ceaseless as he kept a wary eye on every dark shadow within the clearing.
“Today, we bind a drow and her Nós Aní, chosen in friendship and full awareness of what this binding entails. The fae Ember Gaderow, and the drow Cheyenne Summerlin, my daughter.” L’zar gestured to each in turn and chuckled. “The only thing I’d change is the last name in that announcement, but I suppose I can’t win ‘em all, right?”
Another round of soft laughter came in response, though it was tense and unsure. Cheyenne glanced at Maleshi, who closed her eyes and shook her head.
L’zar smiled at his daughter, then lifted his chin. His voice was like a cracking whip across the clearing. “The old laws still stand, even in this world. Blood from the heart of Ambar’ogúl draws like to like. The mór edhil still stand as they were meant to be, and the Nós Aní stand beside them.”
Without needing a cue from L’zar, Corian knelt in front of the silver pitcher and poured a dark, shimmering liquid into each of the goblets. The clearing was so silent, even those standing at the farthest edges could hear the drink trickling into the cups.
L’zar sank to his knees in front of the goblets and picked up the dagger.
“By the power running through my veins and yours, Cheyenne, I give my blessing.” Staring up at his daughter, he wrapped his other hand around the blade and pulled, slicing his palm open. Blood poured from his clenched fist, which he held over one goblet and then the other, adding a few drops to each. The dagger fell to the damp grass, and he passed his hand over the cut in his other palm. Cheyenne saw the wound heal quickly beneath the golden light glowing behind his hands. Then L’zar grabbed the silver goblets and set one foot forward in the grass, his other knee planted firmly while he leaned toward Cheyenne and Ember. “Drink.”
This is so creepy.
The halfling stared at her father’s wide, eager eyes above his knowing grin. She and Ember glanced at each other, then Ember reached out to take the goblet in front of her. Cheyenne did the same, gazing into the shimmering black liquid within the cup. “All of it?”
“As much as you can stand,” L’zar muttered. “Do it.”
The girls lifted the goblets to their lips at the same time. Cheyenne’s nose tingled with the scent of blueberries, eucalyptus, and the undertone of blood rising from other odors she couldn’t distinguish. The drink was overly sweet and bitter at the same time, and she got down two swallows before she couldn’t handle any more.
Ember gulped and sounded like she was choking before she pulled away from the goblet and grimaced.
L’zar nodded and reached for the cups again. Then he set them on the ground and rose to his feet. “You’ll repeat after me. Together.”
The fae snorted and immediately covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Cheyenne shot her a sidelong glance. We called this part.
L’zar raised an eyebrow and decided to ignore their inside joke. “By the old laws and the heartblood of Ambar’ogúl, we are bound.”
Cheyenne and Ember took deep breaths and repeated his words in unison. “By the old laws and the heartblood of Ambar’ogúl, we are bound.”
An explosion of brilliant silver light burst from Cheyenne’s and Ember’s chests the second the last word left their lips. It lit the clearing like a flare, and Cheyenne heard her friend’s startled gasp and realized she’d made a similar sound. The light crackled and burst away from them, twirling up in a long column before it darted into the illusion of the darkly glowing Nimlothar tree. The tree’s bark pulsed brighter, let out a blinding flash, and then darkened again.
L’zar stared at the tree and cocked his head, his voice ringing out in the stunned silence that had overtaken the gathered magicals in the clearing. “Huh.”
“Cheyenne.” Ember leaned forward in her chair. “I feel weird.”
“Yeah, that whole thing was weird.” The halfling stared at the tree, then glanced down at her drow father, who was still craning his neck toward the branches.
L’zar finally turned and shrugged. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”
“What?”
“It’s fine.” He waved her off and shot the tree another confused look. “Some Nimlothar somewhere responded to this ceremony and accepted your Nós Aní like it would have in the old days, so we have that going for us.”
Corian shook his head and scowled. “There’s only one left, L’zar.”
Cheyenne swallowed. “It’s with the Crown, right?”
Her father pursed his lips and tilted his head from side to side. “Yep.”
“So now she knows what we just did.”
“Probably.” He clicked his tongue with a remarkably high level of casual apathy. “An unforeseen consequence. But congratulations. You and your Nós Aní are bound.”
Cheyenne gritted her teeth and glanced at Corian, who stared at L’zar and looked like he wanted to stab the drow in the back. I’m feeling the same thing right now.
Ember rubbed her temple. “What’s going on?”
The Nimlothar that was supposed to have been nothing more than an illusion flashed again, its sputtering light blinking brighter and faster until the entire thing disappeared. The illusion around the clearing cut off abruptly, and everyone was dazzled with the sudden intensity of real sunlight instead of the dome of fake night overhead. The crowd of magicals shifted uneasily and looked around, talking to each other in low voices.
Cheyenne glared at L’zar. “What did you do?”
“What did I do? That was your power, Cheyenne, and it was very impressive.”
Someone shouted a warning, and they all turned to see a dark
