She raised both hands and stepped sideways around him, giving the drow thief a wide berth. “If it’s still important later, bring it up then.”
Shaking her head, the general put a little spring in her step and hurried away from him.
L’zar opened his mouth to call after them, then closed it again. This would be the moment my own flesh and blood calls checkmate. Only she won’t. She’s not enough like me for that.
He licked his lips and frowned at the dry grass beneath his feet. One step at a time, L’zar. That’s all it takes. Everything else will work itself out.
Lifting his head, the Weaver Cu’ón pulled himself together before following the others toward the center of the ageless city, so thick with magic he could hardly breathe. We’re almost there. And there’s always another way.
* * *
Cheyenne didn’t have a particular destination in mind as she wound between the white stone buildings, occasionally meeting the wide-eyed, unblinking gazes of the olforím staring at her from doorways and around corners. When she broke free of the central buildings in Nor’ieth’s valley, her eyes watered so much, she could only see vague shapes and blurred colors.
“Come on.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes, trying to clear the burning itch of concentrated magic and the way it made her want to scratch her own flesh off her bones.
As she moved away from the center of the village, the tears slowly cleared, and she stopped.
Ember stood, or hovered, an inch off the ground, with Byrd, Lumil, Foltr, and Cazerel in a loose circle. The raug chief’s warriors held a private conversation farther ahead, but they cast the fae girl brief glances of approval between bouts of rumbling raug laughter.
Cheyenne headed toward them. “Looks like you were right, Grandfather.”
Foltr narrowed his eyes at her, surprised to hear the title from a halfling’s lips, especially hers, and thumped his cane against the ground with a snort. “You don’t live as long as I have only to throw empty guesses into the wind, Aranél.”
“Obviously. You knew her magic would come back.” Now that she was close enough to see through her still-watering eyes, Cheyenne eyed Ember and grimaced. “I mean, I’m glad to see you out of that machine, Em, but you look like shit.”
Byrd and Lumil burst out laughing, elbowing each other in the ribs.
Ember folded her arms and gave the halfling a haughty head-wiggle. “Such kind words, Aranél.”
“I thought we talked about you not calling me that.”
“Everyone else does.”
“You’re not everyone else, Em.” Cheyenne tried to keep a straight face, but seeing her best friend standing, even with the help of her magic and a levitation spell, made her break out in a wide grin. “Standing looks way better on you than that spider-chair.”
Ember snorted. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“What happened?”
Ember wrinkled her nose. “I’m pretty sure the olforím drugged me.”
“What?”
“I mean, it was for a good cause. Obviously. But still.” The fae girl leaned toward her friend and whispered, “I was tripping balls, Cheyenne. Saw my magic in the air, grabbed it, and it all came back. Then I puked.”
“Uh-huh.” Cheyenne fought back a laugh and nodded. “That explains the pale fae-pink and the dark circles under your eyes.”
“Which I wear with pride at this point, thank you very much.” Ember closed her eyes and spread her arms, basking comically in her transformation. “Oh, and by the way, I’m pretty sure my legs will heal too.”
“For real?”
“Pretty sure.” The corners of Ember’s mouth turned down in mock consideration, and she glanced at her legs. “Don’t know when, but I saw it.”
“Oh, boy.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her hair.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I totally believe you, Em. No doubt. And you have no idea how glad I am to see you with working magic again. There’s been a lot of seeing going on.” The halfling shook her head at Ember’s clueless expression and muttered, “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Huh.” Ember shrugged, then she caught sight of the nightstalkers heading toward their little gathering. L’zar was striding carelessly along behind them like he didn’t have a care in the world. “So, I’m curious.”
“Yeah?”
“What was L’zar screaming about?”
“Huh?”
“The scream, Cheyenne. And the birds. Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t hear it.” Ember plastered an over-eager grin on her face when Corian and Maleshi reached them. “Hey. Weird day, right?”
Corian eyed her briefly, then turned toward the raugs’ provision carts. This time, none of the warriors gave him any trouble about it.
Maleshi nodded slowly at Ember. “So the fae Nós Aní regained her magic. Sorry, Ember. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes.” Ember widened her eyes and glanced at Cheyenne and the general. “Just because I look a little tired and malnourished, maybe, it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“Those are usually the first red flags, kid, but okay.” Maleshi shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it. Congratulations on the magical recovery.”
“Thank you.” Ember glanced at L’zar, who was taking his sweet time to join them. “Any luck with the secret drow heir?”
“Nope.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets. “We can talk about that later too. L’zar’s a little sensitive at the moment.”
Lumil snorted. “That’s a first.”
“Friends.”
The rebel magicals jumped in surprise when Yilas’ multi-toned voice came from behind them without warning.
Cheyenne nodded at him with a tight smile. “You’re talking to us, right?”
The olforím smiled and dipped his head, his pale eyes moving slowly from one face to the next. “We invite you to stay with us through the night. There is food, shelter, and plenty of room for everyone.”
Byrd nodded. “Yeah, the food’s not half bad.”
Lumil snorted. “Like you even tasted it.”
“Hey, I can eat fast and enjoy it at the same time, okay? Get off my ass.”
Maleshi stared at the goblins until they noticed and elbowed each other into silence again. “Thank you, Yilas. We’ll have to discuss it before we let you know one way or the other.”
“Of course.” The olforím bowed
