“Well, whatever. If it was the olforím or just me, I don’t know. But I’ll tell you right now, I have way stronger magic than I did before I healed Cazerel. It’s working on my legs, too.”
“Obviously.”
Ember grinned and made her left foot twitch before giving herself a break. “So, how was class?”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Easy. Boring. I gave everyone an A for that Matthew Thomas assignment, even the kids who I think copied and pasted a Wikipedia page into their email.”
“When did you have the time to go through their emails?”
“I didn’t. I’m guessing, based on how much they annoy me when we’re in the same room.” The halfling grinned, and Ember burst out laughing.
“You’re one hell of a college instructor.”
“Thank you very much.” Cranking the lever on the side of the recliner, Cheyenne leaned all the way back, her legs stretched out on the footrest, and sighed. “That Tori girl, though…”
“Who’s that?”
“The one who sent me that picture of Colonel Thomas.”
“Oh, right. The chick I have to thank for causing your crazy freakout and giving me the perfect opportunity to slap you in the face. Again.”
“You can hold off on thanking her with that level of specificity, Em.” They both laughed. “She might have some skills we could use later. You know, in a hypothetical world where I didn’t have my activator and needed someone else’s help and their skills.”
“You mean, like how you asked all your students to dig into our neighbor’s family ties for you?”
“Yeah. Like that.” Cheyenne stared at the ceiling. “And now we’re just waiting.”
“Nothing from Rhynehart yet?”
“Nope. I don’t know why it takes him this long to pull together some gear and access badges. I mean, the guy spent the last few months randomly calling me and expecting me to jump into a raid or whatever at the drop of a hat, and now he needs twenty-four hours to—”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to read the text. “Well, speak of the human.”
Ember laughed. “You really love calling him that, don’t you?”
“You know what? It’s not so bad. I endured months of being called ‘rookie’ and ‘halfling.’ Sometimes ‘psycho drow.’ It’s only fair that we spread the name-calling around, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Makes everything fair and square, just like that.” Ember folded her arms and nodded at her friend’s cell phone. “Lemme guess. He’s finally ready.”
“Yep.” Cheyenne sent a text to Corian to let him know and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “So now we just—”
The dark circle of light from Corian’s portal appeared between her and the front door. Corian’s tawny-furred face poked halfway through it. “Let’s get a move on.”
“Wow.” Ember blinked her luminous eyes. “Everyone’s got perfect timing today.”
“That does only seem to happen when we’re dealing with non-emergencies, huh?”
“I don’t know, halfling.” Ember rose in her sitting position from the couch in a flash of violet light, then her legs swung down together to hover over the floor. “I had pretty good emergency timing yesterday.”
Cheyenne pointed at her Nós Aní. “True.”
Corian’s silver eyes widened. “This isn’t a drill, by the way.”
“Yep.” The girls headed for the portal, which closed behind them as soon as they stepped through into Persh’al’s warehouse.
“Hey, good to see everybody here.” Cheyenne grinned at L’zar’s rebels, who gathered around the new arrivals.
Lumil frowned and leaned away from her. “You feelin’ okay?”
Cheyenne’s grin disappeared, and she cocked her head with a deadpan stare aimed at the goblin. “Does this make you feel more comfortable?”
“There you go.” Lumil wagged a finger at her. “That looks and sounds like the Cheyenne I know.”
“You know, with the exception of Ember, there isn’t a magical in this warehouse who can say they know Cheyenne.”
Ember snorted and shot her friend a sidelong glance. “Talking in the third person now?”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Better or worse than plural personal pronouns?”
“I’ll have to think about it.”
Corian shook his head and stared at the halfling and her fae Nós Aní. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two are trying to hide something under all this lightheartedness.”
Spreading her arms, Cheyenne raised her eyebrows at the nightstalker. “Hey, just because I’m Goth doesn’t mean I can’t have a good day.”
“With a serious attitude problem.” Ember pointed at her and nodded. “Don’t forget that part. Goth with a serious attitude problem.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Byrd frowned, his eyes widening in uncertainty. “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out.”
Lumil elbowed him in the ribs. “I think this whole ‘put the FRoE bastards in their place’ thing went right to her crownless head.”
“The Crown doesn’t even wear a crown. What are you talking about?”
“It’s a fucking figure of speech, man.”
“Not when we’re talking about literal crowns.”
“Okay, stop.” Cheyenne raised both hands and looked from one freaked-out goblin to the other. “You guys need to chill out. We’re not fighting loyalists or infiltrating Hangivol or trying to hold back the blight. It’s a simple magical-prison break-in. In comparison, this is a pretty good day.”
“Simple, huh?” L’zar emerged from his room at the back of the warehouse and cocked his head. “You’re starting to sound more like me every day.”
“See, that’s exactly the kinda thing that ruins a halfling’s good mood.”
The drow thief ignored his daughter’s quip and joined the rest of them in the center of the warehouse. He nodded at Corian. “And the agents?”
“We’re meeting them halfway between here and Chateau D’rahl.”
L’zar settled his golden-eyed gaze on Cheyenne, and she shrugged. “Yeah. I passed along the information.”
His brows flicked together in confusion. “I’m wondering why we agreed to go to them instead of the other way around.”
Corian shook his head. “I can port them in and out of the warehouse all day, L’zar, but they don’t get driving directions, and I’m not about to open a portal for all of us right in front of the prison gates. One magical surprise
