Rhynehart stared at Cheyenne. “Are they for real?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Persh’al looked up from his computer and nodded at Rhynehart. “You said you’re part of it, human, so it’s better to just—”
“Quit calling me that!” The agent clenched his fists and glared at the blue troll. “I have a name, assholes. Use it.”
Persh’al looked at him. “Rhynehart’s not your first name, is it?”
“Jesus Christ.” Rhynehart pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s not my first name. Neither is ‘human.’”
Cheyenne couldn’t help it. She stepped over to him and leaned in to mutter, “You realize how long you’ve been calling me halfling, right?”
“That’s different.”
“Really?”
He looked at her and growled. “Get me out of here.”
“Sure.” She gestured at Persh’al’s computer. “Just as soon as we have our plan. That was your idea, by the way. So come on.”
Without waiting for a reply, she headed to Persh’al’s tables and grinned when she heard Rhynehart’s boots thumping across the cement floor behind her. I get it. He’s freaked out, and he’s lost the upper hand. Can’t say it isn’t satisfying to watch him squirm.
The other agents gazed around the warehouse. Bhandi stepped over to the piles of war machine parts. “This the kinda junk you keep around?” She kicked one of the metal hull pieces with her boot.
“Don’t.” Persh’al pointed at her. “Don’t kick the fell-damn machines. Don’t touch anything in here, got it? Endaru’s balls, man, it’s like having a bunch of toddlers running around.”
Bhandi scowled at him. “Say that again.”
Yurik scratched the side of his face. “Whose balls?”
Ember snorted and tried to wipe the grin off her face.
“Oh, yeah.” Bhandi nodded at her. “Funny fae girl has a laugh at our expense.”
“Come on, guys.” Ember shrugged. “You’re in a whole new world here, okay?”
“Like we didn’t already know that.” Bhandi pointed at the metal husks shoved against the wall. “You been part of this world long enough to know what the hell this crap is?”
Ember frowned. “Those are O’gúl war machines.”
“They’re what now?”
“Same thing that dug its way into Peridosh and attacked everybody.” Ember glanced from one FRoE agent to another. “Ring any bells?”
“Fuck.” Tate looked at the pile of scrap metal. “Are you shittin’ us?”
“No.”
“This isn’t the same one, right?” Yurik leaned toward the machine parts to study them from a full ten feet away. “Doesn’t look like the same one.”
“There are way more than that.” Ember turned to the other side of the warehouse as Cheyenne and Rhynehart reached Persh’al and his computer. “Did nobody fill these guys in on what’s happening?”
Cheyenne gave Rhynehart a deadpan stare. “I told you to explain the rest of it.”
“You know what, half—Cheyenne.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“Oh, sure. I have no idea what that’s like. No problem.”
“Well, shit.” Lumil slapped her hands together. “If you Earthborn wanna grow up and play with the adults, somebody needs to tell you what’s what.”
Byrd snorted. “Yeah, like you know what that is.”
“I know what your face is gonna look like in two seconds if you don’t shut it.” Lumil lurched toward him, and the goblin man flinched away with a snicker. “You wanna hear what’s going on? I’ll tell you. And don’t ask questions, got it? That screws up my flow.”
Tuning out Lumil’s mostly accurate rendition of what they were up against on all sides, from the FRoE, the Earthside loyalists with war machines, and Ba’rael on the other side of the Border, Cheyenne studied Persh’al’s center monitor and watched him work.
“Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re thinking.” The blue troll’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and he shot Cheyenne a quick sideways glance. “You could use that fancy little coil behind your ear and pull up everything we need to know in two seconds. I get it.”
She smiled. “Probably less than two.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not the one who brought it up, man.”
Rhynehart folded his arms and swallowed thickly. “Somebody gonna tell me what the fuck any of that means?”
Persh’al shook his head and chuckled. “Cheyenne’s gone halfling-tech-prodigy on us, Rhynehart. But I’m the one who pulled all this together. You don’t get credit for all the hours I spent in this shithole, kid.”
Cheyenne removed the activator from behind her ear, wincing at the pinch, and stuck it in her pocket. “Do your thing.” Can’t focus when I can see everything way before he does.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” O’gúl symbols flashed across his monitor as Persh’al kept typing. Then he slammed the last key with a flourish and grinned up at Rhynehart. “Voila.”
The agent frowned at the monitor, then leaned forward in disbelief. “Fuck. This is everything.”
“Yep.”
“How did you get all this?” Rhynehart studied the information on the monitor, his eyes racing back and forth. “That’s the layout of the prison.”
“I know what it is. Come on, man. Just because Cheyenne doesn’t get any credit for this, it doesn’t mean no one does.”
She chuckled. “Trust me, you get full credit for this. How long did it take you?”
“Meh.” The blue troll shrugged. “About a month.”
“Oh.” Cheyenne tried to look surprised.
“Twenty years ago, kid, okay? Back when shit was a lot harder to set up. I’ve made a lot of improvements since then.”
“I bet.”
Rhynehart ran his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “Damn. You guys don’t fuck around, do you?”
“Ha! There it is.” Persh’al pointed at the agent and grinned at Cheyenne. “Out of everything he’s seen in the last twenty-four hours, my system made a true believer out of the guy.”
“What exactly am I a true believer in?” Rhynehart asked in a dull voice as his attention moved to the second monitor on the right and the list of guards and agents stationed in every cell block of Chateau D’rahl, organized by shift and day of the week.
“That we have what it takes, man.” Persh’al folded his arms and watched Rhynehart’s disbelief. “That you’re steppin’ up in the world. At least this one. You’re runnin’ with the big dogs
