“Yeah. What did you have to do?”
Maleshi shrugged. “We decided to follow your advice. A fun little cell for the loyalists heading their individual operations, and a lot of toys for Persh’al to pick apart at his leisure.” The general focused on conjuring her portal, and Cheyenne glanced quickly at Ember.
They did listen. No slitting throats or handing out death sentences. For now.
The portal opened in front of Maleshi and she stepped aside, gesturing for Ember to wheel through first.
“What are you guys gonna do with them after this?” Cheyenne asked. “The loyalists.”
“Honestly, kid, we haven’t thought that far ahead. We have more important things to focus on now, and all of them require your head to be in the game.” Maleshi’s lips curled in a slow smile. “Which I’m assuming it still is. We can figure out what to do with the few dozen prisoners we locked up when we get back.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne nodded at Ember before the fae girl took a deep breath and wheeled through the portal. “Someone’s keeping an eye on them, right?”
“Well, he’s not happy about it, but he chose to stay behind, so the responsibility falls on him.”
“Who?”
They walked through the portal into the warehouse. “Persh’al. I believe the best argument he could come up with against being a jailor for a day or two was that he only knows how to maintain computer systems, but I’m willing to bet his conscience will be enough to remind him to feed and water the magicals in the basement.”
“I heard that,” Persh’al called from the other side of the warehouse.
Cheyenne turned and froze when she saw the two battered carcasses of the digger machines they’d torn apart yesterday. “This was your solution for cleanup? Bring them to the warehouse?”
Corian chuckled. “I’m starting to run out of room in my apartment. The place can only keep so much junk.”
“That had nothing to do with it.” Persh’al stood from his chair on the other side of his computer table and pointed at the nightstalker man. “But here you are, trying to take all the credit again. After a few centuries, you’d think I’d stop being surprised by it.”
“Or stop being so bitter about it, at the very least.”
The blue troll waved Corian off and walked around the three tables connected in a squared-off U. “Everyone’s trying to take credit for something, aren’t they? And you.” He pointed at Cheyenne and cocked his head. “You stole all my thunder when you found the source of those programs, halfling. Half of me wants to rip you apart for that, and the other half wants to give you a fell-damn trophy.”
“Thanks. I think.” Cheyenne adjusted the straps of her backpack and shrugged. “The activator did most of the work.”
“Obviously.” Persh’al stopped beside the war machines in the center of the warehouse and folded his arms. “But you know how to work both, and you’re the only one of us who can wear that thing and get any use out of it Earthside. I’m gonna give you this one moment of credit, and then I’m gonna ask you to please, please just let me keep doing my job over here. I’m the tech guy. You’re the halfling warrior.”
She snorted.
“No, seriously. There’s a very firm line between our responsibilities. Quit steppin’ into my bubble, kid.”
“Good to see you too.”
Persh’al grinned at her. “I know it’s only been two days, but it feels like forever. And now you’re going back.”
“Yeah, I’m a little surprised you aren’t.”
“Nah. I’ve been on a battlefield, but I’m not cut out for this whole ‘storming the castle’ thing. In this case, that will be pretty much literal. Someone has to keep an eye on what happens when all of you make the crossing and the Earthside eyes on us go dark.”
The back door squealed open as Byrd and Lumil stepped inside. “You’re here already, huh? Nice.”
Lumil cracked her knuckles as they approached the group gathered beside the machines. “Damn. I’ve been looking forward to this since the day you walked in here, looking all dazed and confused.”
Byrd sniggered.
Cheyenne smiled at the goblin woman. “You mean, less than two weeks ago?”
“Fair enough. Been waitin’ a long time to bring this fiery fist back to Ambar’ogúl, but yeah. After the last two weeks, halfling, I’m even more excited to be doin’ it right next to you.”
“Yeah, glad you’re coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Byrd flexed his hands by his sides and cocked his head. “Wouldn’t miss a battle for anything. Not the one that’s coming.”
“You mean, the one we’re bringing,” Lumil corrected.
“Hey, come on. How’s that an important distinction right now?”
“Because it’s our battle, and we’re taking it to that bitch at the center of Hangivol.” The goblin woman jerkily shook her head at him in disbelief, her short yellow hair flopping over her forehead. “The battle’s not coming, we are.”
“Oh, so that’s what you’re so concerned about? You think we’ll mess the whole thing up if we don’t talk about it the right way?”
Corian closed his eyes and let out a long hiss. “I’m gonna kill them.”
“When the hell did you start caring so much about logistics, anyway?”
“Since you convinced me how wrong you are.”
“Then how ‘bout this? I like to fight! You wanna bring the battle now?”
“No!” Persh’al leaped toward them, waving his hands. “You do not get to fight inside. Those are the damn rules. And if either of you even thinks about throwing a single explosive punch, I’ll whip you back into last century, got it? I’m still studying these machines, and I’m not about to let you two nagging greenskins screw that up. You break it, you buy it.”
“Oh, that’s interesting.” Lumil widened her eyes. “You put a price tag on these things?”
“Yeah. Your life. So will you please shut up or get the hell back outside to settle it there?”
The goblins glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Very funny.” Persh’al glared at them, then glanced at Cheyenne
