“If it gets the job done, sure. Call it whatever you like.”
If he keeps up this space-case routine, I’ll end up calling it Gúrdu’s prophecy coming true. We bring L’zar Verdys all the way back to Ambar’ogúl, and he’s useless.
Chapter Ninety
When the party reached the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a circular chamber with a lot more magical light than the torture room below. The walls stretched up almost three stories around them, though the only doors existed on this level. Six massive doors of corrugated steel fitted with reinforced bolts closed off every entrance, and the circular room was empty.
Corian gazed around, his nose wrinkling in aggravation. “So far, so good, but it won’t be long until someone figures out there’s been a breach.”
“They can figure all they want.” Lumil raised her fist, swirling with sparking red runes. “Doesn’t mean shit if they can’t tell anyone.”
“Well, let’s hope that continues to be the case for as long as we need.”
L’zar moved in a slow circle around the huge room, his footsteps echoing in muted whispers across the layers of dust. “We need to get a message to the Star.”
Corian rolled his eyes before settling his gaze on the prowling drow. “How exactly do you suggest we do that? We planned for every contingency except this one. We would’ve had the resources at any other entry point, but we don’t here.”
“Let your mind out of its box, Corian,” L’zar growled, his golden gaze flickering over the chipped black stone encircling them. “I’ll get us where we need to go, but if the Star has no idea when or where our little rendezvous is supposed to take place, we might as well be walking into this stripped bare-assed naked as well as blind.”
The nightstalker raised an eyebrow and didn’t turn to follow L’zar when the drow circled the wall behind him. “You need to cool it.”
“I know what I’m tempting. Do your job.”
Closing his eyes, Corian took a deep breath, then headed for Cheyenne. “You have the activator?”
“Yeah.”
“Put it on.”
She pulled the silver coil from her pocket and held it toward him. “I don’t wanna screw it up. You know a hell of a lot more about what you need than I do. I mean, we’re in your house now, right?”
L’zar’s bitter laugh exploded through the chamber before cutting out again, and he kept pacing.
“Not my house, Cheyenne. After as many centuries as I’ve spent Earthside, I’m willing to bet the entire mechanism of this place has rewritten itself far beyond what I can make out with what little time we have.” He nodded at her outstretched hand. “That activator’s got more of you in it now than anything else. You might as well be offering me your toothbrush.”
“Oh, ew.” Ember grimaced and turned away.
“Okay, that’s the last analogy I expected you to use, but I get it.” Cheyenne stuck the silver coil behind her ear, waited for the pinch and her eyelids to stop fluttering, then looked around the stone chamber. Her jaw dropped. “This is insane.”
“What?” Ember drifted toward her. “You okay?”
Cheyenne scanned the stone walls, which only appeared to be stone. In most places, they were O’gúl metals, carrying the same frequencies, code, and tech-magic that had lined the walls and streets of Hangivol’s outer circles. A few dark boxes remained in the walls where the stone hadn’t been replaced, but those were few and far between. “I’m more than okay. It’s like reading someone’s mind, but that someone is a massive server network, and I’m standing inside it.”
Maleshi snorted. “That was much better than your analogy.”
Corian ignored her. “All right. I need you to find an access point for sending a message. This is going to a fairly specific location, though it’ll be hard to pin down.”
Cheyenne approached the wall and walked slowly along it, scanning the lines of code and letting her activator sift through it a thousand times faster. “Let me guess; that’s because of the dampening wards L’zar put up in his secret rebel lair underground.”
“Ha!” Lumil pointed at the halfling, then slapped a hand to her head. “How the hell are you reading all that in the fell-damn walls?”
“I’m not.” Cheyenne’s smile kept growing as she absorbed block after block of data. “I’ve been there.”
That statement distracted L’zar from staring at the walls, and he turned to his daughter. The corner of his mouth twitched, then he resumed his dreamlike pacing.
“So, I can’t get a message into the bunker.” The activator lit up a trail of glowing blue code, illuminating it brighter than all others. She reached toward it and stopped. Don’t touch anything until you’re sure. Following the trail around the wall, she waited for the activator and her synced magic to find what she was looking for by feel alone. “Do they have any other endpoints set up with active tech? Right outside the wards, I mean.”
“Over a dozen.” Corian folded his arms and watched her. “That’s the problem.”
“Where are they most likely to come from when they think it’s time to meet up with us?”
“Quadrant A4, Section 482C, Sub-section…” L’zar growled and closed his eyes, muttering to himself as he went through the jumbled routes of his memory. “Sub-section 87.”
Cheyenne stopped beside the closest metal door in the wall and wrinkled her nose. “Mm.”
“No, sub 86.”
“Yeah, that looks right.” Cheyenne lifted her finger toward the flashing point in the wall the activator had lit up for her with the Hangivol coordinates straight from L’zar’s mouth.
The drow’s eyes flew open and he focused them on his daughter, flashing a wide grin.
“Whoa.” Ember patted her cheek and looked back and forth between L’zar and Cheyenne standing on opposite sides of the chamber. “Is anyone else feeling out of the loop here?”
“Get used to it, fae.” Lumil nudged Ember’s shoulder gently. “When you’re dealing with the drow, there’s always a loop, and you’ll never be
