Persh’al spread his arms. “Did everyone forget about the warehouse, or are we just going through the options that aren’t really options for fun?”
“FRoE agents at the warehouse.” L’zar stroked his chin and pretended to consider it. “Isn’t that an unexpected turn of events.”
“Quit screwing around.” Cheyenne nodded at Corian. “No reason for us to stay here anymore. The portal’s gone. Let’s go.”
“My pleasure, Aranél.” Corian dipped his head and stood.
Rhynehart glanced at him and Cheyenne. “What’s all that about?”
“What? Nothing. I have to grab my stuff and tell Eleanor we’re leaving. She’s had enough surprises for a lifetime.” Cheyenne turned from the table, stopped, and looked over her shoulder to point at the magicals staring at her. “Nobody touches anything. Trust me, I’ll know.” Then she headed quickly toward the kitchen and disappeared.
Ember floated over to Rhynehart and leaned in to mutter, “It means ‘princess.’”
“What?”
“Aranél.”
The agent gave a wry laugh and shook his head. “Christ, could this day get any weirder?”
“Absolutely.” Corian nodded at him as he stepped around the table to the open space between it and the wall of windows. “The day just started, after all.”
“That was rhetorical.”
“Was it?” Corian lifted both hands and muttered the spell to open a new portal right there in Bianca Summerlin’s dining room.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Cheyenne stormed back into the dining area with her backpack slung over her shoulders and Ember’s duffel bag swinging from one hand.
“What the hell is that?” Rhynehart stared at the shimmering oval of dark light that had opened in front of Corian.
“A portal.” The nightstalker grinned. “Congratulations. You’re the first human to ever go through one of these.”
“Oh, fuck no. Uh-uh. I’m not stepping anywhere near that thing!”
Cheyenne stopped beside Ember and handed her friend the duffle bag. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Ember took it and held it against her chest. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Just have to break up a fight before it starts every ten minutes. I’m great.” Cheyenne joined the other magicals gathering in front of the windows and clenched her fists. I knew it’d be weird to mix rebels with the FRoE, but this is getting ridiculous. “Rhynehart.”
“No fucking way, halfling.” He pointed at the open portal and shook his head. “I said I’d help you, but whatever the hell that thing is wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It’s all part of the deal. Get used to it.”
Persh’al snorted and marched past the uneasy operative. “It’s harmless, man. At least, this one is. Need someone to test it for you before you grow a pair?”
The blue troll ignored Rhynehart’s growled protest and stepped through the portal into the warehouse.
Rhynehart stared at the shimmering light, his eyes widening when Persh’al turned around, spread his arms, and disappeared from view.
“Go ahead.” Cheyenne nodded at the portal.
“You think I’m a fucking idiot?”
Lumil scoffed. “Yes.” She shoved Rhynehart from behind and sent him stumbling and shouting through the portal. “Some friends you got, halfling.”
“Yeah, I know.” Cheyenne gestured for the other FRoE agents to step through. Bhandi, Tate, and Yurik looked at each other in hesitation. Jamal grunted and shoved past all of them before ducking beneath the top of the portal and stepping through. Payton followed quickly, then the other agents sucked it up and hurried after them.
L’zar grinned at his daughter as the rest of the magicals gathered in front of the portal to step through. “I was wondering when your knack for diplomacy would show itself, Cheyenne.”
“It’s my low tolerance for bullshit. Don’t get too excited.” She stepped into Persh’al’s warehouse, with Ember close on her heels. Byrd, Lumil, L’zar, and finally both nightstalkers passed through, and the portal closed behind them with a soft pop.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me again,” Rhynehart shouted, pointing at Lumil.
The goblin woman snorted and stepped past him. “Then quit being a douche.”
Bhandi snickered but stopped when Tate shot her a warning glance.
“So, then.” L’zar rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get on with this plan, shall we?”
“No. Not shall we.” Rhynehart vigorously shook his head. “I don’t have any information here. My agents don’t have what they need. I have to get schematics, shift schedules, who’s got what security clearance for which block in which wing of the prison. You didn’t think about that, did you? You just pushed me through a goddamn portal and—”
“You need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Persh’al interjected. “Or before one of us hurts you. I’m way ahead of you, man.”
Rhynehart looked like he was choking as he blinked rapidly at the troll. “What?”
Persh’al stalked across the warehouse toward his computer setup at the trio of tables. “Hate to burst your bubble, human, but we’ve been here a lot longer than you.”
“No shit. You all live to be, what? Like a million?”
L’zar chuckled.
Maleshi smiled at the human agent as she pulled a folding metal chair from against the wall and lowered herself calmly into it.
Persh’al looked up from behind his computer monitor and frowned at Rhynehart. “No. I’m talking about the FRoE. Come on. You didn’t honestly think we didn’t notice how conveniently the birth of your fun little organization coincided with L’zar’s first escape, did you?”
Rhynehart spun until he found Cheyenne and scowled at her. “What’s he trying to say?”
“It’s coming through pretty clear to me.” She shrugged. “You need to get your hearing checked?”
“How do they know so much about us?”
“We’ve had our eyes on the whole thing for a long, long time.” Persh’al’s fingers flew across his keyboard; he didn’t even bother to sit in his swiveling desk chair before getting right to work. “Watching the Border reservations before they were called Border reservations. Before the FRoE had a chance to take over. And I’ve been itching to make a splash in Chateau D’rahl since that little gem popped up on the radar. When was that, L’zar? 1900?”
“1902, I believe.” L’zar raised his eyebrows at Rhynehart. “No reason to be embarrassed. It was state-of-the-art for the times. I got my own personal tour in 1946, though
