Ember cleared her throat and drifted slowly away from the wall. “Nope. That’s me.”
The Crown’s mouth fell open, then she whirled on L’zar with renewed fury. “You knew this would happen.”
“I most certainly did not. That fae snuck through the nalís portal on her own.” L’zar chuckled and nodded for Ember to join them. “I must say, I’m impressed. Apparently, we’d have lost without you.”
Ember’s pink-tinged cheeks burned a dark violet shade as she floated toward the four drow watching her. She stopped beside Cheyenne and pressed her lips together in determination. “She needed me.”
Ba’rael’s only response was a furious hiss as Ruuv’i looked Ember up and down, staring for a moment longer at the inch between her feet and the stone floor.
“So.” L’zar clapped his hands together. “The old laws stand, Ba’rael. The turn of a new Cycle is pretty much the only option you have now. Beyond death, of course, which we all know you remember quite well. I can’t imagine feeding your predecessor to the deathflame is an easy memory to toss aside, no matter how long it’s been.”
Cheyenne bit her lip. I would not be surprised if she started breathing fire right now.
“Come on, then.” L’zar spread his arms at the Crown. “You can give it up freely, or I can take it from you.”
Ruuv’i’s gaze whipped toward the drow thief.
Ba’rael let out a dark, bitter chuckle and pointed at L’zar. “You forfeited your claim when you turned your back on me, L’zar. The old laws no longer apply to you.”
“Sure.” L’zar bowed his head and held the drow woman’s gaze. “But they apply to my daughter, and she’s done everything required of her to fill the empty seat.”
Cheyenne stared at him. “The what, now?”
“The seat, Cheyenne. Position. Throne. Would you like more synonyms?”
“No, hold on.”
“Stop.” L’zar lifted a finger and shot her an intense warning gaze. The Crown’s lips curled into a predatory sneer.
Because if I say the wrong thing, we lose. Got it.
Her father clasped his hands behind his back and smiled primly at the Crown and the drow man ruling at her side. “Cheyenne has a fortnight to decide what to do with you. She’ll take that home with her, and when she makes her decision, you’ll hear from us.”
“No,” Ba’rael growled. “No! I demand an answer now!”
“Too bad.” L’zar grinned at them.
“You’re a disgrace,” Ruuv’i spat. “You think you’re the clever one, Weaver? You’ll end up hanging from the flames when all this is over.”
L’zar spread his arms and bowed again. “Don’t we all?”
“Your path through the deathflame will rip you to pieces!” Ruuv’i shouted, thrusting a long finger at the drow thief. “Everything you think you’ve accomplished is nothing!”
“That’s enough,” the Crown snapped. Ruuv’i growled and clenched his fists, but he didn’t say anything else. “A fortnight, then. That’s plenty of time for both of us.”
“If you say so.”
Ba’rael looked at the frozen magicals locked in battle around the edge of the courtyard and flicked her fingers toward them. The bright light freezing the combatants shuddered and disappeared, and both O’gúl soldiers and rebel magicals stepped away from each other, swaying and blinking, disoriented.
“Hear me!” The Crown’s voice exploded from the bottom of the courtyard and echoed more than loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Put down your arms and return to your posts. We are finished. So says your Crown!”
The orc soldiers cast their monarch confused gazes and slowly filtered back through the arches into the adjoining corridors, leaving the dazed rebels alone to recover from the spell from which they’d just been released.
“No one hurts them,” Cheyenne said quickly, pointing at L’zar’s rebels. “I swear, if you can’t hold to that, you’ll hear from me in sooner than a fortnight.”
L’zar chuckled, and the Crown turned a disgusted glare onto the halfling. “You have no idea how this works, and you still invoke the old laws. I should have crushed you against that tree.”
“Well, I’m a pretty tough nut to crack.” Cheyenne raised her eyebrows at the Crown, and the drow woman gestured toward the now-open passageways lining the courtyard.
“Get out of my sight.”
“Although neither of us is subject to your commands, Ba’rael, we will happily take our leave. Enjoy your last two weeks of semi-power.” L’zar flashed her another grin, then gestured for Cheyenne to join him.
Ember fell in beside Cheyenne as they passed the altar and the last Nimlothar tree, which was still faintly pulsing.
L’zar leaned toward his daughter and muttered, “That was a valiant attempt but quite unnecessary.”
“To keep them safe? Why was that unnecessary?”
“When you returned your marandúr, all of Ambar’ogúl felt it. Wait ‘til we walk through the streets after this. Hangivol is going to be a very different place.”
“Better or worse?”
“That depends. For us? I’d say things have vastly improved. Well done.”
Behind them, the Crown growled and raised her hands, mumbling a spell.
“Ignore her. Keep walking.”
“How much magic does she have left?”
L’zar tilted his head from side to side with a noncommittal hum. “Enough to poke around with a sharp stick. Not much more than that, though.”
A green light flashed behind them, filling the courtyard. “L’zar Verdys, Cu’ón of Hangivol, Dark Grinning Weaver and O’gúl Blood Thief, I hereby banish you from the soil of Ambar’ogúl. May you never set foot in the heart again. May the deathflame consume your flesh and your memory if you dare press against the threads I now weave around the traitor!”
The green light flashed again and grew behind them. L’zar didn’t bother to turn around when the Crown’s spell hit his back, sending green lines of magic crackling across his flesh. He paused, shuddered, and chuckled softly. “Huh. Tickles.”
“What just happened?”
“Keep walking.”
“L’zar.”
He nodded slowly and pointed at the archway ahead of them. “Pretty much exactly what it sounded like, Cheyenne. Once I leave Ambar’ogúl,
