“Great.”
It took them another half-hour to reach the tightly packed buildings in the outer ring of Hangivol’s shimmering wall of light. More magicals than even Peridosh could hold bustled between these buildings, barking orders and questions at each other, moving around pits bursting with green flames, and working with machines to apparently build more machines.
“Industrial sector,” Persh’al muttered, moving the skiff slowly through the intense heat coming from the pits. “Not inside the city walls because who wants all this noise and heat and stink crammed right up against…well, okay, a different kind of noise and heat and stink.”
“What do they make out here?” Cheyenne stared at a metal claw on a ten-foot crane pulling a huge sheet of metal with a snarling wolf’s head forged on the side.
“Everything. Anything. The big stuff, right? Some of it’s craftsmanship, but it’s the old-school kind. Metal is metal, though, huh? We’re still working with it like we always have.”
An empty pit filled with green flames sputtered out when a ten-foot-tall magical stepped through it, the ground trembling beneath his lumbering footsteps. Those aren’t feet, those are hooves.
The big guy caught her staring and spread two enormous, black-crusted wings out on either side of him, blocking out the light from both the green fire and the sun behind him. A low growl rumbled out of him before he grabbed a sheet of metal bigger than he was and stepped back through the flames.
“As long as we keep moving and don’t try to talk to any of these guys, we’ll be in the city before you can say, ‘Fuck, that’s some hot fellfire.’” Persh’al steered the skiff toward a steel tunnel angling upward, and a tingling buzz of warm energy washed over them when they passed through. He shuddered. “I never liked that.”
“What was it?”
“Uh, a decontamination chamber. Sort of.”
Cheyenne stared at him as the tunnel leveled out, then dropped gently back down again. “So, we just drove through a contaminated industrial sector.”
“More or less. I mean, not with sickness or anything. Don’t freak out. The city’s been running some kinda filtration system forever. Working with fellfire has its downsides, namely one of the worst smells I’ve ever smelled.”
“I didn’t smell anything.”
“Right. Well, you don’t until the fumes have had a good day or two to settle in.” They exited the tunnel, and Persh’al turned the skiff to the right, navigating through all the other vehicles swarming in through the open corridor lining the city wall. “I took the fastest route, kid. We won’t stink, and we saved a bunch of time by not having to go all the way around the city to the front.”
“I’m guessing not many magicals come in through the back.”
“Yeah, most try to avoid the fellfire.”
Cheyenne glanced over the metal rim of the curving lane filled only with other hovering crafts. On their left, the shimmering translucent wall rose almost straight up before it curved inward toward the highest towers miles away at the city’s center. Two larger crafts whizzed passed them, darting between the other milling vehicles and eliciting shouts of outrage from other drivers.
“All right, here we go.” Persh’al banked to the right, cutting off another driver behind him. The skiff dipped into another tunnel on the side of the corridor, and they entered an underground parking lot. When they slowed to a stop, the metal wall beside them flashed yellow. “Suck it. I’m not wasting any more veréle on junk.”
Cheyenne gazed around the low parking lot underground. “This is not what I expected.”
“This is Hangivol, kid. I wouldn’t expect anything if I were you.” He grabbed his pack and waited for the halfling to grab hers before he led her across the empty lot toward a raised round platform against the far wall. The metal beside the skiff flashed yellow again and made a chirping, clicking sound. Before Cheyenne could ask, Persh’al waved dismissively and stepped up onto the platform. “Yeah, yeah. Sound the alarm. I don’t give a shit. Watch this, though.”
She frowned at the skiff as the wall flashed again. Something whirred and clicked, and a silver light bloomed around the skiff before the entire thing crunched in on itself. The metal squealed and popped until a tightly packed ball of metal hovered inside the silver bubble. “So, no more skiff.”
“Nah, we don’t need it. That’s O’gúleesh towing for ya.” Persh’al winked at her as the round platform jerked and slowly lifted away from the floor. “Let me tell ya, I was terrified the first time I got a parking ticket in DC.”
“Not as bad in comparison.”
“Right? It’s good to have a positive outlook.”
The platform lifted them up through a circular chute in the metal ceiling above them and stopped to let them off. Cheyenne stared up at the city’s shimmering outer wall in front of them. “How many things do we have to go through to get inside?”
“It’s overkill, I know. Almost there.”
Other magicals lugging their things with them moved down a narrow walkway twenty feet above the whirring traffic lane encircling the city toward a huge orc standing guard at one of the entrance points. Cheyenne and Persh’al fell in line with the rest of them and waited for their turn.
She leaned toward the troll and muttered, “You sure you won’t set off any outstanding warrants with that guy?”
“Of course I’m sure.” He cleared his throat. “No way are they looking through a two-thousand-year-old database.”
“Very convincing.”
“All right, keep all that to yourself for five more minutes, kid. Let me do the talking. You just stand next to me looking fed-up and pissed-off.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Easy.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
They reached their turn in line and stopped in front of the giant orc. He towered at least a foot over them and growled, “Hands.”
Persh’al extended both of his, trying to look like he was going
