“Don’t touch my head.”
“Oh, now you have a problem with personal space, huh?”
“What, you want me to start playing with your hair too?”
Cheyenne and Ember shared confused glances, then the halfling looked at Yurik. The goblin’s arms were folded, and he raised his eyebrows with a little shrug.
Everybody’s tense tonight. We’ll fix that.
The elevator ground to a slow, shuddering halt when it reached the bottom of its long descent into the underground marketplace. Bhandi and Tate stopped bickering, and the troll woman’s eyes lit up.
“This is why we’re here, fae.” The elevator doors opened the second Bhandi pointed at them. “I don’t care what anyone else does, but I’m gettin’ hammered.”
“Hasn’t changed since the last time we were here,” Tate muttered as he followed her out of the elevator. “Or the time before that. Or before that.”
“You know what? Just quit yacking at me until I get at least a whole pitcher of grog down my throat, huh? Think you can do that?”
“Maybe.”
Yurik rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall to step into the wide, sweeping entrance of the underground marketplace for magicals only. Cheyenne left next and waited for Ember to wheel herself out onto the relatively smooth stone floor. The fae’s luminous violet eyes widened even more when she saw the wide, sweeping arc of the massive tunnel stretching farther than they could see. “Holy shit.”
“Welcome to Peridosh, Em.” Cheyenne nudged her friend’s shoulder and nodded after the FRoE agents disappearing into the throng of hundreds of magicals conducting their business down here. “I’m sure your first time will be less eventful than mine.”
“We can only hope, right?” Ember laughed. “I’m not much good in a bar fight right now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Woven rugs over here! With thread straight from back home, people! Stained with pure O’gúl radan dye and everything.”
“Hey, you. Fae! Yeah, you. You need a Vrexes Scrubber for your potions? Don’t even bother with the shop down there. That goblin’s on his way out. I got what you need at much lower prices.”
Ember spun away from the orc as he reached toward her over his table, a sludge-covered thing that looked like a squid dangling from his hands. “I’m good.”
“Oh, come on. Fae like you needs to keep up her supplies, yeah?” Spit flew from the orc’s mouth between his jutting tusks as he spoke. When Ember moved past his wares, the guy walked around the table and tried to follow her.
Cheyenne stepped between them and glared up at the vendor, who had a good six feet on her. “She said she’s good.”
The orc’s eyes widened when he took in the drow standing in front of him. “Sure, sure. I’m just tryin’ to make a living, you know? Gotta do what we gotta do.”
“Well, do it from behind your table.”
“Uh-huh.” He looked after Ember one more time with a grimace of disappointment, then returned to his post behind his spread of nasty-looking wares. The squid-thing dropped onto the table with a splat, sending dark, muddy sludge splattering onto a tall, gangly goblin walking by at the right time.
Cheyenne left those two to argue and caught up with Ember. “People can get a little pushy down here.”
“People?” Ember looked up at her with a smirk. “Every magical I’ve met is a little pushy, Cheyenne. I’m pretty sure that comes with the territory. You know, living in this world where we’re not supposed to be.”
She’s not talking about the FRoE agents or us. We were all born here.
The halfling nodded. “Makes sense. Just don’t be afraid to push back.”
“Oh, I can push if I have to. Don’t worry about that.”
Cheyenne snorted. “I’d like to see that.”
“Careful what you wish for, ha—” Ember stopped herself and wrinkled her nose. “I’m guessing that’s not gonna fly down here, huh?”
“No. We can keep that part to ourselves.” Let the rest of these magicals keep thinking I’m a full-blooded drow. Just like they think those FRoE agents are in the same boat as everyone else.
They pushed their way through the moving, bustling crowd. Cheyenne hadn’t noticed how uneven the stone floor in the massive tunnel was until Ember slowed down. The halfling turned to ask if she needed help, but a soft violet light lifted the fae’s wheelchair for two seconds before lowering her again on the other side of a rough patch of protruding stone.
Ember wiggled her eyebrows. “At least I can do this much for myself.”
“Looks like you’re gettin’ the hang of it.”
“That’s what happens when I can only do one thing with my magic.”
Cheyenne shook her head as she stared at a knobby, twisted-looking magical with skin that looked like tree bark. He hunched over a long walking stick and sneered at Ember, but when he glanced up at Cheyenne’s narrowed golden eyes, he quickly looked away and thumped his cane faster against the stone floor.
A piercing whistle cut through the din of magicals shouting out their wares and shoppers shouting their annoyance over each other.
“Hey, Goth drow!” With one hand clutching the large handle of the Empty Barrel’s front door as she held it open, Bhandi leaned back over the throng and waved at the tavern. “I thought you knew the drill by now. Hurry the hell up!”
Ember laughed. “She calls you ‘Goth drow?’”
“It’s better than ‘rookie.’ Doesn’t mean she has to shout it out every chance she gets.” Cheyenne stared right back at the magicals walking past her, most of whom noticed her for the first time once she’d been called out by her race for everyone to hear. Other vendors peered over their tables to get a better look at the drow in their midst, and the halfling nodded toward the tavern. Bhandi had already slipped inside, and the door shut again with a muted thump. “Come on. If you want an O’gúleesh drink, Em, we better get in there before she drinks
