“I’m talking about L’zar. He lost it on Corian before I came out here, and it sounded a lot like he knows what’s up between you two.”
The general’s olive-skinned human face paled, her eyelashes fluttering in surprise. “Then I won’t go back right now like I planned.”
“So, you’re gonna hide from it?” Cheyenne shook her head. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere. He’s not even supposed to be Earthside right now, but the olforím don’t give a shit, and now he’s stuck here forever.”
Maleshi swallowed. “Ba’rael’s curse.”
“Yeah. We have that awesome surprise to deal with. And now L’zar definitely won’t be with me when I have to go back there to give the Crown my terms. That’s what I’m worried about.”
“You’ll be fine.” Maleshi turned around and walked stiffly toward the desk at the front of the classroom.
“Sure, if L’zar’s in the right headspace to cough up whatever information he has that will help me. I mean, he’s hardly ever in the right headspace, but he surely won’t be if you and Corian try to clear this mess up with him.”
“Corian and me.” The general slipped loose papers into her rolling briefcase and turned. “If there is a mess, Cheyenne, it’s between the two of them. Corian makes his own decisions, even if it looks like the exact opposite. I’m not part of this.”
“Fine, but you’re part of all the open ends we left in Ambar’ogúl before we got shoved back across the Border. Right?”
Maleshi grabbed the handle of her briefcase and stalked toward the door. “Like what?”
“Seriously?” Cheyenne gritted her teeth when the nightstalker walked past her, then spun and followed Maleshi up the aisle. “Like all the extra magic spilling out of Hangivol. Like the Sorren Gán. Shouldn’t someone be over there checking whether that asshole’s doing what it promised?”
“Well, you can make the crossing and check it all out for yourself if that’s what you want.” The general pointed at the door, and a silver flash removed the window’s black color. “But I highly recommend you spend your time thinking about what is under your control.”
“Like what?”
The door jerked open, and Maleshi turned to whisper harshly, “Like who you’re gonna put on that throne if you ever want to step foot Earthside again. Like how you plan to force Ba’rael off that throne. Everything else is a drop in the bucket and a waste of all our time.”
The general stormed into the hall and didn’t look back.
Cheyenne stepped out after her. “I’m still taking suggestions. Anyone come to mind?”
“Close the door behind you.” Maleshi disappeared around the corner, the wheels of her rolling briefcase squeaking and clicking across the divots in the linoleum floor.
“Great.” ‘Cause it’s the easiest thing in the world to find someone to rule Ambar’ogúl among the limited options on Earth. Cheyenne snorted, slammed the classroom door shut behind her, and headed down the hall toward the closest restroom. “Mondays suck.”
The bathroom door opened, and a short, scrawny girl who couldn’t have been taller than five feet skirted into the hall. “Tell me about it. Nice costume.”
Cheyenne ignored her and slipped into the bathroom. The stall door banged shut behind her, and she twisted the lock before slapping her hands on the metal door and bowing her head between them. Only eleven days left until I either force the Crown to step down or try to keep her from slitting my throat. No big deal.
She jerked the cuff off her wrist and shoved it angrily into the pocket of her trenchcoat. The warmth of the magic she’d been walking around in for the last three days faded, and she smoothed her dyed-black hair away from her face with pale Goth-girl hands. Feels like taking off all my clothes. Never thought it’d feel weird to look like a human, but okay.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the stall door and glanced briefly at herself in the mirror. “You need food. And a shower. You smell like a raug.”
The toilet in the other stall flushed, and her student with the half-shaved head stepped out to wash her hands. “I don’t know what the hell a raug is, but speak for yourself.”
Cheyenne scowled at the girl.
“I figured all that face paint would take a lot longer to wash off.”
“Just takes practice.”
“Okay.”
Turning stiffly, Cheyenne hurried out of the bathroom, slamming her hand against the door to throw it open. A university campus is not the place to talk to myself in the mirror. Or at all. Noted.
* * *
When she got back to her apartment, she found Ember sitting on the couch, both legs propped on the cushions, watching TV. The girl looked at her and smiled. “Get caught up?”
“Maleshi owes me a new car.”
“What?”
Cheyenne dropped her backpack on the floor and slumped into the black leather recliner on the other side of the coffee table. “She’s why I don’t have nice things.”
Ember wrinkled her nose. “That might be stretching it a little. You could buy three more of those things brand-new and not even make a dent in your bank account.”
“That’s not the point, Em.” Cheyenne dropped her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “It’s the principle. If somebody says they’ll take care of it and you can trust them, that better be what they mean.” Her eyes flew open, and she bolted upright in the chair. “Shit, Em. Your PT appointment. I totally forgot.” She fought with the side of her trenchcoat to get to the phone in the left pocket. “What time is it? We can still—”
“Whoa, slow down. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Here I am, talking about keeping promises, and now I’m the asshole who—”
“Cheyenne, stop.”
The halfling looked up at her friend and paused with her phone halfway out of her pocket. “What?”
“I canceled PT.”
“Because I didn’t show up?”
“Because I’m healing myself, Cheyenne. I don’t need the clinic anymore.”
“Oh.” Sitting back in the chair, Cheyenne cocked her head.
