“Just don’t call Corian yet, okay?”
“What?” Cheyenne spun and paced back toward her friend. “You say that like it’s my go-to solution.”
“I just mean not yet.”
The halfling rolled her eyes. “You know what? I only call him when I know I’m up against something I can’t handle on my own, or when not calling him would be worse for me than having the kinds of conversations I don’t enjoy. If it seems like a lot, that’s because there’s a lotta crap coming down the pipeline, and most of it has to do with L’zar in one way or another. And therefore Corian.”
Ember raised her hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” Taking a deep breath, Cheyenne stopped beside her friend’s chair and nodded at the papers in Ember’s lap. “I’ll just go talk to Matthew. Show him what I found.”
“Ask questions before you start blowing holes in his apartment. All right?”
“Sure, whatever. Good thing my Nós Aní handles talking me out of unnecessary chaos like a pro.”
“What? Oh, no.” Ember waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head. “I’m not storming in there with you to start accusing our neighbor of fighting on the wrong side.”
“Again, it’s a little more than accusing if we have proof.”
“You don’t need me to call him out on any of it. I’ll stay right here.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “The dude has an obvious soft spot for you, Em. We’re gonna use it.”
Ember grimaced. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds so…”
“Smart? Prepared?”
“Heartless.”
“Not compared to what could happen if the Crown gets more war machines over here and the magicals Matthew’s been writing programs for succeed in activating an entire army of those things to wipe out whoever the hell they want. One tank was hard enough.”
“Please,” Ember replied. “Just because you had to spend a little more time figuring out how to take it apart doesn’t mean it was hard for you.”
“Still. And you’re changing the subject.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll come with you, but don’t expect me to start pointing a finger and making threats.”
Cheyenne said, “That’s my job.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure.” The halfling raised her hands in the same gesture of surrender and dipped her head. “We’ll go in there, lay it all out, and give him a chance to explain himself.”
“Thank you.”
“Then I’ll start blasting holes in his apartment.”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
“He’s not home, is he?”
Cheyenne pulled her hand away from the front door, and her drow vision that let her see through walls and physical objects stopped when she opened her eyes. “Nope. Not a single body in that apartment, so I’m guessing he’s at one of those mysterious meetings he’s always talking about.”
Ember frowned. “I haven’t heard him say anything about meetings.”
“That’s because he’s always way more focused on sweet-talking you when you guys are hanging out doing whatever.”
“Talking, Cheyenne. And sometimes making homemade pizza.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “See? Even that just feels forced. He’s trying way too hard to hide his shady side.”
“Right. We don’t know anyone else who does that.”
The halfling ignored her friend’s jab and stepped away from the door. “We just need to keep an eye out for him and wait ‘til he gets back.”
“And what? You’re just gonna stand there at the door, watching the hallway with your third eye or whatever?”
“It’s not a third eye. And no. I’m not about to waste the rest of my night standing at our front door.” Cheyenne’s gaze fell onto the scattered pages of Maleshi’s spellbook. “You see any spells in there for spying on people?”
“No.” Ember snorted and wheeled between the couch and the coffee table again. “But there is something like a magical tripwire.”
“I hope it makes him trip.”
“Stop.” Ember scanned the pages, then reached for the rest of the unbound spellbook nestled against the couch’s armrest. She flipped through the different spells, then pulled out the page she wanted and paused. “You didn’t wanna keep these in order or anything, right?”
“Seeing as I’m not the one who can cast spells with any degree of accuracy, I couldn’t care less about organizing those things.” Cheyenne cocked her head with a small smile. “Maleshi might have something to say about it.”
“Maleshi handed you a magical bomb if the wrong person got their hands on this, and she didn’t even bother to string it together. How hard is that? Most copy machines have hole punches anyway.”
The halfling snorted. “Feel free to tell her that next time we see her.”
“You think I’m afraid of an ex-general parading around Richmond posing as an IT professor? Please. Neither of those nightstalkers scares me.”
“Listen to you. You’re starting to sound like me, Em.”
“With one major difference, halfling.” Ember dropped the rest of the scattered spellbook back on the couch and skimmed the instructions. “I know the difference between not being afraid of someone and pushing their buttons until their head explodes.”
Frowning, Cheyenne shook out her hands and set the chains on her wrists jingling. “I’ll just let you do your thing, then.”
“Uh-huh.” Without looking up from the magical tripwire spell, Ember grabbed the stack of their proof against Matthew Thomas and dropped it on the coffee table.
The halfling picked up the papers, and almost sat in the recliner full of water. With a grunt, she picked up the war-machine orb, wiped it off on her pants, and slumped into the other armchair while Ember got to work.
Ten minutes later, a sputtering yellow light blinking around the perimeter of their apartment ripped Cheyenne out of her concentrated reading. “What was that?”
“That was a fae casting spells the right way.” Ember blew on her fingertips and shook out her hand. “On the first try.”
“At least we know your bragging skills are up to par.”
“Hey, don’t act like you’re not impressed.”
“I’m impressed, Em.” Cheyenne gazed around their apartment and raised her eyebrows. “And the spell was?”
“I told you. A tripwire. Sort of.” Ember read over the spell instructions one more time to
