The Crown gritted her teeth and gazed at the high walls surrounding them. She roared in rage and spun, stalking quickly across the courtyard before spinning again to pace the other way. “This isn’t how it’s done, L’zar.”
“Oh, please. Don’t tell me how to play the game. This isn’t how you did it. Cheyenne isn’t remotely capable of following in your footsteps.”
“But she’ll follow yours, is that it?” Ba’rael fumed and shot Cheyenne another scathing glare. “You’ve always been a bottom-feeder, and you’re taking her down with you.”
“I consider that a compliment.” L’zar folded his arms. “A lot of wonderful surprises drift down to the bottom before anyone even knows they’ve disappeared. Don’t worry. It might take some time, but you’ll figure out how to navigate it.”
The O’gúl Crown hissed, and her anger finally burst out of her in a scream. She doubled over and let it all out, fists clenched by her sides, until the echoing roar of the drow monarch’s fury shook the walls and sent a few pebbles tumbling down around them.
The Nimlothar flashed with purple light, and one frail violet leaf broke from its stem and spun through the air like a throwing star toward the drow woman. The leaf’s thin edge slashed her face, and Ba’rael’s screams cut off in surprise. She staggered backward, slapping a hand to her cheek and glancing down at the blood on her fingers as the leaf fluttered to the ground.
“Can’t argue with the tree, Ba’rael.” L’zar burst out laughing, and the Crown stomping her foot on the leaf to crush it into dust only made him laugh harder.
Cheyenne watched them with growing wariness. They’re both insane. What the hell is this?
When the Crown finished her tantrum, she straightened, smoothed a stray lock of white hair behind her ear, and lifted her chin with a deep breath. Her gaze flickered toward Cheyenne. “Name your price.”
L’zar raised a hand toward the Crown. “I believe this is something that requires a little more discussion. We didn’t come here with anything specific in mind.”
Cheyenne and Ember shared confused glances.
“Fine. Let’s discuss it.”
The halfling looked at the metal walls surrounding the arches of the walkways above them and shook her head. “I’m not discussing anything until you call off all the fighting.”
L’zar hummed in amusement. “Cheyenne!”
“I’m serious. Not while everyone’s up there killing each other and we’re safe down here.” I think.
“Well, you have to agree it’s a start.” He raised an eyebrow at the Crown.
Ba’rael rolled her eyes and flicked both wrists toward the high walls. The metal doors slid back into place with resounding clangs, and dark light raced around the fighting magicals overhead.
Every one of them froze, suspended in various stages of attacking and deflecting. The courtyard fell eerily silent.
“There. It’s been called off.” The Crown spread her arms. “Satisfied?”
Cheyenne glared at her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, that’s what I’m willing to offer until the four of us come to some sort of understanding,” Ba’rael spat.
Ember blinked and pressed herself farther against the wall. “Oh, I’m good. Just tagged along to help with the last part. You guys can talk without me.”
L’zar and Ba’rael turned slowly to stare at the fae hovering an inch off the ground. L’zar burst out laughing and drew a hand down his cheek. The Crown’s nostrils flared. “I wasn’t talking about you, fae. You’re lucky you’re still standing.”
Ember flipped the O’gúl Crown the bird, and L’zar lost it all over again.
Cheyenne stepped slowly around the altar to join them. Before she could ask who the fourth was, a drow with a short-trimmed white goatee in a scarlet suit stepped through the open archway behind the Crown. His white hair was tied back in a long ponytail, and his golden gaze drifted between Cheyenne and L’zar.
“Ah. Ruuv’i.” L’zar spread his arms and approached the other drow as if he meant to wrap the man in a hug. The drow in the scarlet suit spared him a quick glance and looked away before stopping beside Ba’rael. “Pity. I was hoping for a more energetic reunion. It’s been so long.”
“Not long enough,” Ruuv’i muttered.
“Do you mean to negotiate too, then? Perhaps sweeten the deal for yourself?” L’zar stepped toward them. “If I were you, I’d leave the guilty to her fate and free myself.”
Ruuv’i’s nostrils flared. “I stand beside her. Call it moral support.”
Cheyenne approached the three other drow and snorted. “After everything she’s been doing, looks like you failed at that job a long time ago.”
“Ha.” L’zar pointed at her and grinned at the two scowling drow rulers. “And she comes with a sense of humor.”
“It’s as boorish and crude as yours.” Ba’rael shot him a condescending stare. “I find it tiring.”
“Good. A tired Crown is willing to listen. Pure necessity, isn’t that right?”
“Say what you came to say.”
“Cheyenne and I have come back for her to place her marandúr on the Rahalma, Ba’rael. She will claim what’s rightfully hers.”
“You have no right to speak for her.” The Crown looked at Cheyenne. “You’re the one who delivered the marandúr. What do you want?”
I have no idea what this is about. Cheyenne nodded toward L’zar. “What he said.”
L’zar sucked in a mocking gasp of surprise. “Look at that.”
“You never walked through the fires, L’zar.” The Crown whirled on him. “You never touched the waters beneath the bridge. None of this is for you to decide.”
“Ah. You’re forgetting the most important part, Ba’rael. Blood bonds with blood.”
“Blood is not the issue, Weaver! You made that perfectly clear when you betrayed the Crown and chose the other world over this one.”
“Well, my methods were a bit unorthodox, sure, but it worked out beautifully. For me, at least.”
Cheyenne stared at them, no longer part of the conversation. I heard half of this in the prophecy. If he says he wants to take her throne, I’m stepping in.
“Be that as it may,” Ba’rael said through clenched teeth, “you’re forgetting one small detail. Your
