When the portal closed behind them, Persh’al, Byrd, Lumil, and Ember stood beside the SUV, staring at Venga as he stomped his huge clawed feet across the cracked and overgrown parking lot of the warehouse. Dust and bits of crumbled asphalt kicked up beneath the creature’s every step. Venga snarled and looked slowly around, the four shoulders of his tense arms curved in a perpetual hunch.
Persh’al rubbed his head. “I’ll say it right now, man. No way we’re getting this guy inside.”
Venga’s thick neck twisted sharply as he spun to face Persh’al, his head tilting almost ninety degrees before he took a crunching step forward. “I have spent the last five years inside a metal can, troll. You will not put me inside anything else.”
“Hey, sure. No problem.” Persh’al raised both hands and stepped back until he thumped against the SUV’s hood. “Probably not the best idea for all of us to be standing outside the wards for everyone else to see, though. Just sayin’.”
The scaly magical whirled to L’zar again. “We’ll speak here, Weaver. I have a lot to do now that you’ve freed me.”
“I have no doubt.” The drow thief stared into Venga’s black eyes, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the Nimlothar leaf, pulsing weakly with purple light.
Venga hissed and hunched even farther to peer at the leaf. “How did you get that?”
“It was sent to me. But that hardly matters, does it?”
“If you freed me from one prison just to keep me in another, L’zar, I assure you I have nothing to lose by ripping your grinning face off that tiny neck of yours.”
Lumil sniggered at the threat but stepped slowly sideways to put the SUV’s hood between herself and the giant magical in a stare-down with L’zar Verdys. Byrd shook his head and stepped away from her in the opposite direction.
“No more prisons, Venga.” L’zar twirled the Nimlothar leaf between his fingers. The scaly magical hissed, his cracked lizard-like lips twitching into a sneer as those black eyes caught every movement of the leaf.
Cheyenne cocked her head. If L’zar’s breaking into hypnotism now, I’m done.
“It’s time for a trade, Venga.” L’zar stared up into the hissing magical’s face. “You get this when I get what I want.”
One of Venga’s four arms bent, and five-inch black claws twice as thick as regular fingers scratched the mottled scales of his chest. The scraping rasp made Cheyenne’s nostrils flare. Even worse were the dead scales peeling from Venga’s flesh and crumbling to the cracked asphalt with a shower of dirt, flakes of dead skin, and yellow-white clumps that looked a lot like maggots. Venga’s eyes never left the Nimlothar leaf. “And what is it you want, Weaver?”
L'zar leaned away from the escaped prisoner and raised his eyebrows. “The Darkglass.”
Venga grunted. “The Darkglass was not meant for you.”
“True. But it’s hardly being used as intended now, is it?”
“It rots with the rest of my endowments.”
“Ah.” The drow slowly lowered his hand and deposited the leaf back into his pocket with a shrug. “Well if we’re bringing your endowments into this—”
Venga hissed viciously and extended all four arms as he took one more crunching step toward L’zar, all four clawed hands outstretched.
Looks like that promise to rip off L’zar’s head is about to be a real thing. Cheyenne shot Corian a questioning glance. The nightstalker lifted a finger for her to wait and shook his head slightly.
“What other price have you set?” Venga snarled at L’zar.
The drow thief cocked his head. “None so far. Other than the Darkglass, of course.”
“Do you know how I came to be wrapped in chains and darkness, Weaver?”
“I have a vivid imagination, Venga. I can imagine. I’m offering my assistance in reclaiming what was taken from you. Do we have a deal?”
The huge magical’s spine cracked like snapping branches when Venga drew himself to his full height. His long, broad shadow fell across the SUV, and Persh’al shrank against the hood. A shuddering laugh escaped the blue troll, then he glanced quickly at L’zar and slid away from his vehicle before darting to the warehouse door.
“I’ll accept your assistance, Weaver,” Venga hissed. “And your token. Everything else we may find belongs to me.”
“Done.”
Venga’s thick tail bashed the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. Chunks of broken black rock sprayed up around him and pelted the SUV like hailstones. Persh’al didn’t say a word. Then the giant magical turned to eye everyone staring at him. “Has anyone heard of Felgar’s Horn?”
Corian shook his head. Persh’al, Lumil, and Byrd were frozen where they stood, staring at Venga as if they’d never seen a magical. Maleshi looked at L’zar. “No word of it.”
“Then nothing has changed much while I’ve been contained.” Venga snorted, and a spray of thick yellow-white mucus shot from his flat nostrils to splatter the asphalt. “I’ll take you there. My endowments and the Darkglass have become well acquainted, I imagine.”
“Yes.” L’zar kicked out one heel and bowed at the waist, gesturing at the open street beyond Persh’al’s abandoned warehouse. “Then by all means, do lead the way.”
“Uh, hello?” Persh’al glanced nervously up and down the street. “Escaped convict bigger than a bus, here. Does nobody see an issue with this?”
“No issue.” Maleshi stepped over to L’zar and Venga. “Until what belongs to you is returned, I can at least make you look whole.”
A low growl escaped the ex-prisoner, but he didn’t object or move away from the general as she slowly raised her hands. With a quickly whispered incantation and a brief twist of her fingers, Maleshi’s spell bloomed from her fingertips in a web of silver light. Venga’s eyes narrowed. The light engulfed him, and when it faded, it left behind a thin, pale, hunched man with scraggly gray hair falling over his shoulders.
Venga raised his human-looking hands, studied them, and scowled. “Far less than whole, General Hi’et.”
“And the rest of the world will be none the wiser.” She dipped
