“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s beside the point.” He stepped toward her and leaned in as he lowered his voice. “I do wanna be there standing next to you when the Crown falls, kid. I want you to know that. And please don’t try to convince me I should come anyway, ‘cause the reason I’m staying isn’t about me.”
When he slowly lifted his gaze to look at her, Cheyenne nodded. He’s talking about Elarit. “You think she’ll understand why you chose to stay behind?”
“I have no idea. I hope she does. I hope she can. But I can’t risk trying to explain it to her, and I can’t risk going over there. Shit, kid, it’s hard enough to keep anything from you. L’zar’s a hundred times worse if you can believe it.”
“Yeah, I believe it.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and looked at L’zar’s office-turned-private-room. “But she’s part of this whole thing too. She’s behind L’zar, not trying to stop him.”
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t get me wrong, kid. Even if he found out before we take this battle to the Crown, he’d still let me fight. He’d let her fight too; pretend like he didn’t know what was happening so we could all focus on the more important objective—the only objective in his eyes at this point. Afterward, knowing that I’d lied to him about cutting her off?” Persh’al shrugged. “I’d like to think he wouldn’t do anything so terrible I couldn’t live with it. We’ve been friends a long time. We’ve saved each other’s lives more times than I can count. L’zar wouldn’t hurt either of us if he knew she and I were still waiting for the day when we don’t have two entire worlds between us, but he’d find some way to shame us for it. Most of that would fall on her, probably. I can’t let that happen.”
“Jesus.” Cheyenne shook her head, unable to look away from the office door with her drow father somewhere on the other side of it. “So, we’re following another dictator across the border.”
“What? No. You’ve got that all wrong.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. He can’t punish either of you for not letting him dictate who to be with or whatever.”
Persh’al snorted. “Not a fan of that kinda relationship, huh?”
“I’m not not a fan.” Cheyenne shrugged. “It’s just not on my radar. Like, at all. But we’re not talking about me, troll.”
“Ha. Yeah, I tried.”
“Why do you let him make those kinds of choices for you?”
Persh’al frowned. “I didn’t. I went against his orders on this one, and that’s on me. But why do I hand over the reins on everything else? ‘Cause I respect him. I’ve followed him through more tight spaces than even Corian was willing to go way back when, and I honestly believe L’zar’s got the interests of both our worlds as a high priority.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “But not the top priority.”
“No. L’zar Verdys is his own top priority. We all know that.” The troll snorted. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about anything else, though.”
“Sounds like we’re replacing one shitty ruler with another shitty ruler who smells a little better.”
“No way, kid.” Persh’al stepped back and clapped a hand on the halfling’s shoulder. “Here’s the difference between L’zar and the Mother sitting on that throne. L’zar would separate Elarit and me if he found out, sure, maybe even forever. And he might throw an extra barb or two in there as a reminder to both of us that following orders is pretty much all we have now. Which I get. We’d move on and be fine, and that’s the end of it. The Crown would invite us in and make us watch everyone we know get the magic sucked out of them and the flesh peeled off their bones.”
“Jesus.”
“Then she’d kill us both in some slow, fucked-up way that gave us a tiny spark of hope that we might be able to get ourselves out of it until we realized we couldn’t. Then we’d be dead, everyone we care about would be dead, and there’d be no one left to stand up to it the next time the Crown decided her judgment was required. Do you need me to go into it in more detail?
“Nope. I’m good.” Cheyenne swallowed and shook her head. “It’s a damn convincing argument.”
Persh’al laughed. “Yeah, against your statement that the only difference between them is that he smells better.”
“Still. You’re his friend, and you’ve had his back for a long time. It’s not okay for him to dangle this kind of thing over your head.”
“Well, he’s got his reasons, and it’s not the worst-case scenario. Who knows? If I can keep my mouth shut about it for long enough, maybe we won’t get to the point where we have to admit lying about it.” The troll spread his arms and raised his voice. “Maybe we’ll all just live happily ever after with a bunch of rainbows and unicorns and sparkly shit until the deathflame brings the end.”
The magicals gathered around the dead war machines turned toward Persh’al to shoot him curious, confused glances. Ember snorted. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about, but if you’re trying to get Cheyenne excited about something, that is not the way to do it.”
Cheyenne grinned at Persh’al and nudged a fist into his shoulder. “I won’t say anything.”
“I know you won’t. That’s why you’re going and I’m staying here.” The troll sat at his desk and dove back into typing on his keyboard.
So, L’zar’s not just a little better than the Crown. Sounds like night and day. Maybe that prophecy’s not what I thought it was.
The door at the back of the warehouse creaked as it swung open, and L’zar stood dressed head-to-toe in light gray in the opening. He spread his arms and gave everyone that deviously feral grin. “Let’s go fuck shit up, huh?”
“Wow.” Lumil cocked her head and tried to keep a straight face while Byrd snorted.
