Cheyenne stared blankly through the windshield as the irritated drivers veered out of the lane behind her and passed through the intersection, honking and flipping her the bird in return. “That’s a huge decision to make, and it apparently lasts forever.”
“Yep. Bring it.”
Slowly, the halfling turned to look at her best friend and swallowed. “Are you sure? I mean like, really, really sure?”
“You’ve done more for me than anyone’s done in my entire life.” Ember nodded. “I’m behind you one hundred percent. I’m doing this.”
Cheyenne ran her hand through her hair and studied the intersection again. “Shit.”
“Yeah, tough break when someone else is just as stubborn as you are, huh?”
“Which means I don’t have a choice.”
“Sure, you do.” Ember sat back against the seat and smirked. “You can go on a flying halfling rampage and make an ass of yourself, or you can suck it up and stop pretending you don’t think this is awesome.”
“Okay, Em. I’ll suck it up.”
“Great.” The fae pointed across the intersection and froze. “Oh. You meant, ‘Shit, the light’s red again,’ didn’t you?”
“It was dual-purpose, for sure.” Cheyenne tried to keep a straight face until she shot Ember a sidelong glance. They both snorted and waited for the light to turn green again before Cheyenne remembered to turn off the emergency lights.
When they got back to their apartment, Cheyenne called Corian to tell him she was home.
“Great. Give me two minutes.”
“Sure. And then you can give me two minutes for a quick chat about some other stuff before we do whatever it is you’re planning.” She glanced at Ember, who rolled her eyes and wheeled into the kitchen toward the fridge.
“You wanna just tell me now?”
“No, that’s okay. It’s better in person.”
“All right. I’ll be there soon.”
Cheyenne stuck her phone in her pocket and turned to the kitchen, folding her arms. “Did he say anything about what this whole Nós Aní ceremony entails?”
Rummaging through the fridge, Ember paused to peer at a jar of pickles and stuck it in her lap. “Just that I won’t have to cut myself or make any sacrifices. ‘Nothing grotesque or painful,’ I think is what he said.”
“Great. That in no way means that it’s gonna be fun. Or even safe.”
“Yeah, because Corian and L’zar aren’t even remotely concerned about your safety.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “Okay, fair point.”
“We’ll be fine. Whatever it is, we’ll do it, get it over with, then start kickin’ ass. Figuratively for me. I’m sure you’ve done that literally many times.”
Chuckling, the halfling took a deep breath and jumped when Corian stepped through his portal into her living room. “Jeeze. Does that ever stop being a surprise?”
“I thought you said you got used to it?” Ember called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, I guess I’m still working on that.”
Corian dipped his head toward her and kept one foot on the other side of the portal. “Time to go. And bring the salve.”
She frowned. “Okay.”
The nightstalker nodded at Ember as Cheyenne grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Ember jerked her chin at him and unscrewed the lid of the pickle jar with a pop.
Cheyenne stepped toward the portal and raised an eyebrow. “Any specific reason I need to bring the whole jar?”
“Just good to be prepared. Come on.”
“Later, Em.”
“Bye. Have fun.” The fae crunched a pickle spear and watched Cheyenne and Corian disappear through the portal, her smile widening.
They stepped into Persh’al’s warehouse, and Cheyenne grabbed the nightstalker’s arm to keep him from storming off. “Hold on. I get two minutes, remember?”
He glanced across the warehouse before begrudgingly meeting her gaze. “Okay. What’s up?”
“You should’ve come to me first about the Nós Aní thing.”
Corian shifted his weight. “That wasn’t meant to come across as going behind your back.”
“That’s what it feels like. She told me all about what it is and what she’ll have to do, at least in the general sense. Did you not think it was important for me to know?”
He squinted, bit his bottom lip, and lifted his chin. “That was a conversation between two Nós Aní, kid, and those are rare enough as it is. The important thing is that she didn’t waste a second before telling you everything you needed to hear, which is exactly why she’s the one you want stepping up to this.”
“I already knew that. Just don’t pull that crap again, all right?” Cheyenne followed his gaze across the warehouse and shook her head. “If we’re gonna be fighting a war and saving at least one of these worlds, I have to be able to trust you.”
“You can.” The nightstalker’s silver eyes settled on her face and softened. “It won’t happen again.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She couldn’t help but frown as she watched him walk past Persh’al’s empty workstation tables toward the center of the warehouse. That was surprisingly easy.
“We ready to do this or what?” Already standing in the center of the warehouse, Persh’al rubbed his hands together and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Ask him.” Corian nodded at L’zar, who sat cross-legged on the cement floor, his eyes closed and his hands raised in front of him to form an open circle.
“Yeah, I already tried that. He’s in deep.” When Persh’al blinked, it looked a lot like a facial tick.
Maybe all those energy drinks finally caught up to him.
“Well, Cheyenne’s here.” Corian waved her forward. “So we’re just waiting for this last part, and then you guys can head out.”
“Shit.” The blue troll vigorously rubbed his bald head, his orange mohawk quivering, and paced in a short line beside the meditating L’zar. “It’s the wait that’s killing me. I think.”
“You’ll be fine.” Corian stuck his hands in his pockets and briefly glanced at L’zar again. “You know what you’re doing.”
“It’s been a long time, man.” Persh’al noticed Cheyenne had joined them and looked away before spinning around to pace again. “Long time.”
The nightstalker smirked. “Just like riding a bike, as I remember it.”
“Your jokes aren’t funny, you know that?”
Cheyenne leaned sideways
