“Midlife crisis?”
“Mental break?”
“Tossing out his last goddamn marble?”
The operatives looked at each other and chuckled, but it was strained this time.
“All of the above, probably,” Cheyenne added. “I called him last night after I didn’t die and told him what happened and what I knew. That apparently wasn’t enough to keep him from losing his shit.”
“It never is.” Bhandi cocked her head in another small solo toast and tipped back her tankard.
“Is that why he called you in this morning?” Yurik asked. “To get the drow’s advice on how to handle a mess like that?”
“No.” Cheyenne let out a humorless chuckle. “He sent Rhynehart out to my mom’s with a whole team to keep an eye on the thing, no questions asked. Almost. They’ve been there since last night, and as far as I know, nothing else has tried to push through the portal. I seriously hope they’re still there.”
“So, he ordered you on base to talk about L’zar.”
Cheyenne raised an eyebrow at Tate. “You know about that too, huh?”
“It’s impossible not to hear the guy raving like a lunatic. He hasn’t come to any of us about it, and he won’t. But yeah. The whole base knows.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“You know where he is?”
The halfling turned her attention to Yurik and gave him the deadpan stare she’d perfected over a lifetime of using it. “I’ve gone on more than enough missions or whatever with you guys to figure we’re cool. You showed me this place, and you’ve had my back more than once. So I’ll tell you that I have no clue where L’zar Verdys is right now, and I’m dead serious when I tell you not to ask me again.”
Yurik spread his arms and dipped his head. “Hear you loud and clear, Cheyenne. Didn’t mean to push a button.”
“Everything’s pushing everyone’s buttons right now.” The halfling took a long drink of her grog to hide her face inside the metal tankard. And I’m sick of people asking me about that damn drow.
“Nobody pushes Goth drow and gets away with it, huh?” Bhandi’s eyelids drooped over her scarlet eyes, and she swayed in her chair when she raised her tankard again. “That ogre figured that one out pretty damn quick.”
“More than one ogre.” Tate snorted into his tankard.
“That’s right. Took the legs right off that one at the mansion, didn’t ya?” Bhandi shook her head and belched again. “Those sick kidnapping fucks.”
Ember looked at Cheyenne with a questioning frown, and the halfling shrugged. “Rough day for everyone.”
“You can say that again.” Yurik stared into his tankard. “And you were right about those bastards taking the kids for whatever black-magic shit they were tryin’ to pull. At this point, I’ll believe what you’re telling us over anything spraying out of Sir’s mouth.”
“About the portals?”
The goblin nodded.
“What’s he saying?”
“Nope! Pause. Time out,” Bhandi shouted and slammed her tankard onto the table. “I can’t listen to this shit on an empty stomach.”
“You never have an empty stomach.”
“You know what, Tate?” The troll woman lurched out of her chair, swaying again, and raised her hands in front of her, wiggling all ten purple fingers. “I used to think that whole thing about fellwine giving somebody berserker-rage strength was a load of bull too. But right now, I’m really feelin’ like I could rip your head right off your shoulders.”
Tate smirked. “You could try.”
“Raincheck.” Bhandi gestured drunkenly toward the bar. “I’m gonna get us some grub. Ogsa cooks like she’s never done it before, but damn, it sure soaks up the booze.”
Before anyone could stop her, the troll woman stumbled out from behind the table and staggered toward the bar. She knocked into a short, timid-looking troll woman also on her way to the bar. The other troll hissed at Bhandi and snarled something incomprehensible over the din of the many magical patrons filling the Empty Barrel. Bhandi hissed back and shoved the other woman away before slamming both fists on the bar and squinting at the long row of shelved liquor bottles.
“Is she always like that?” Ember asked, then hiccupped and blinked in surprise.
“Yep.” Tate stared at the troll woman’s back as she hunched over the bar. “Every single time. Nobody down here knows what she could do to them if they ever caught her out in the field. Crazy-ass troll is a helluva soldier.”
Yurik chuckled. “But they know not to mess with Bareass Bhandi down here.”
Ember burst out laughing. “People call her that?”
“Oh, yeah. I think it stuck.”
The fae laughed and shook her head. “What does somebody have to do around here to pick up a name like that?”
Tate snickered. Yurik fought back his own laugh and picked up his tankard again. “It’s pretty damn obvious, isn’t it?”
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s more like it.” Bhandi shoved a huge platter of O’gúleesh tavern grub that looked like dog food into the center of the table and belched. “Anyone want some?”
Tate jammed a handful of fried grasshoppers into his mouth and crunched loudly. “Not after you’ve been shoveling that into your face with both hands.”
“That’s how you’re supposed to eat it.” The troll woman gestured at the platter. “Didn’t come with utensils, did it?”
Ember leaned forward to grab a piece of what she hoped was pita bread off the smaller plate beside the platter. “I think that’s what these are for.”
“Huh?” Bhandi glanced at the plate. “When did those get here?”
Tate and Yurik snickered and kept eating their bar snacks.
Cheyenne watched her friend take a huge bite of the bread. “How is it?”
“Better than I expected.”
“Hey, she’s catching on.” Yurik wagged a finger at the fae. “Lower your expectations as far as possible in this place, and you’ll have a great time.”
Bhandi winced, thumped her chest, and shook her head. “Something’s stuck.”
“You can keep that kinda problem to yourself.” Tate eyed the troll woman sideways and shook his head.
Cheyenne smirked. “Okay. So now that the starving troll’s got her fix, let’s get back to what
