Maleshi pointed at the seemingly empty air right behind the building’s back wall, and the war-machine scrapheap reappeared. “One of the better forms, if I do say so myself. As long as nobody gets it into their head that where we’re standing would be the perfect place for them to hang out for a while, we’ll be fine.”
“What about you?” Cheyenne asked her. “You think the portal and these machines showed up together on purpose?”
“No.” Maleshi headed toward the junk pile as Corian opened another portal within the illusioned dome that was making them invisible. “That would imply both of them came from the same source, and that’s not possible. Which we’ve already covered.”
Corian’s portal opened beside the pile of dead O’gúl metal. “Not to mention that these machines have to go through the hands of someone Earthside before they’re activated. It feels like a coincidence when you look at it like that, and at the same time, it doesn’t feel like a coincidence at all.”
Maleshi snorted as she picked up the side panel of a digger tank. “When that happens, there tends to be another hidden power in play.”
Cheyenne frowned. “You mean, like someone else manipulating the timing? Not the loyalists controlling the machines or the Crown on the other side?”
The general tossed the metal panel through the portal, where it hit the cement with a clang. “Someone else, sure. Maybe. It’s not always a person stepping in where the interference isn’t welcome.”
Dragging the end of one machine toward the portal, Corian paused, looked at the halfling, and chuckled. “Don’t look so confused, kid. You understand the concept.”
The halfling cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re seriously trying to write this whole thing off as fate? Or just some other universal power doing whatever it wants without any explanation?”
“Fate’s one way to look at it.” Maleshi tossed two more handfuls of broken machinery through the portal. “And yes, there are other universal powers doing what they want, as you so succinctly put it.”
Corian chuckled again and resumed dragging the mangled war machine toward the shimmering oval of dark light.
“I don’t see how that’s funny.”
“It’s just an interesting take, kid. You ever think about what those universal powers might be?”
“Not really, no.” Cheyenne stepped out of the way as Maleshi levitated the larger fragments of black metal and threw them toward their next destination. “Seeing as this is the first time I’ve ever had to ask the question.”
“You could call it fate,” the general continued. “Or magic. Or whatever force selected the location for each individual Border portal around the world that has stood in the same place for centuries.”
“Come on. Magic isn’t sentient.” Cheyenne snorted. “The portals aren’t, either.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they are in a way we simply don’t understand.” Maleshi shrugged and fixed the halfling with her green eyes. “But if we weren’t convinced before that you’re sitting at the center of a lot of sentient attention, whether or not we understand it, we sure as hell should be by now.”
Cheyenne blinked at the nightstalker woman and ignored the rhythmic drag of the huge, battered war machine as Corian pulled it through the portal. “I get enough shit from the FRoE about all this being my fault. I don’t need to hear it from you too.”
“I’m not blaming you for anything, kid.” Maleshi leaned back against the second tank and folded her arms. “This isn’t a matter of blame or whose fault it is. I mean, other than the bitch on the O’gúl throne. That one’s got a lot to answer for. I’m just talking about the grander design. Not fate necessarily. L’zar’s proven pretty unequivocally that the impossible can be made possible, or at least that there are loopholes within what everyone else wants to believe is a fixed course. An inescapable eventuality, right?”
The halfling wrinkled her nose. “L’zar only broke through that prophecy of his because he didn’t do anything.”
“Ah, but it was still his choice.” Maleshi stood from against the war machine as Corian reappeared from the other side of the portal and headed toward her. “We’ve all made our own choices, whether or not they achieved what we wanted.”
“I didn’t choose to be part of this,” Cheyenne muttered.
Corian bent and grabbed the underside of the second tank. “You choose every day to keep being part of it.”
“Well, yeah. But you guys are trying to tell me fate or magic or whatever has some grand design in all this. How can me choosing to do anything fall under fate?”
The general snorted. “Well, then what would you call it?”
“Free will.” Cheyenne spread her arms and leaned toward the nightstalkers. “After other people made their mistakes and forced me into being part of them.”
Corian’s lips twitched, and he released the war machine again before straightening and fixing Cheyenne with an intense gaze, even from behind his human-illusion charm. “You think you’re responding to mistakes, huh? Do you know why your parents are who they are?”
“My mom doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Oh, yes, she does.” Maleshi pulled her loose black hair away from her face and tied it back. “She was the one who birthed you, after all.”
“Go ahead.” Corian clasped his hands behind his back and eyed the halfling. “I’ll wait for your answer.”
“My answer?” Cheyenne looked from one human-appearing rebel nightstalker to the other and scowled. They’ve lost it. “My parents are who they are because L’zar couldn’t keep it in his pants and wanted to keep playing god
