Metal panels and sliding gears unfolded all the way to the floor, forming a cabinet wider at the base than the top. Venga flicked his hand at a central panel, which opened under his command like a drawer. Then he reached in with two hands and gingerly pulled out an object composed of black metal and glass panes.
“As promised.” He turned and offered the rectangular object to L’zar.
“You always keep your promises, Venga.” The drow gingerly took the box of metal and glass and grinned at the scaly magical. “You have my thanks.”
“It’s not your thanks I want, Weaver.” The ex-prisoner tilted his head, and his eyes flashed green again.
“Of course.” Nestling the Darkglass delicately beneath one arm, L’zar pulled the faintly pulsing Nimlothar leaf from his pocket and set it in Venga’s outstretched hand. “I don’t have to tell you to use it wisely, do I?”
Venga growled and stalked back to the open trunk. He pulled out a black leather jacket and a pair of worn, baggy jeans before stripping off the rags of his prison uniform and changing right there in front of everyone.
Ember blinked furiously and turned away. “Guess privacy isn’t an issue when you’re chained up in a tank.”
“Apparently.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in the pockets of her trenchcoat and shrugged. “Honestly, I’m waiting to see what he’s gonna do with that leaf.”
“He’s not gonna eat that too, is he? That was weird.”
Corian chuckled. “Endowments and a Nimlothar have two different uses for a scaleback.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cheyenne forced herself not to look at Venga tugging on his jeans and slipping his thick tail through a tailored hole in the back. “What does he get out of something from a drow tree?”
“None of your business, Aranél,” Venga grunted and slammed the dented lid of the trunk closed. He slipped the Nimlothar leaf into his jacket pocket and headed back to L’zar. “I don’t remember this many questions being part of our arrangement.”
“They’re not.” L’zar waved a dismissive hand at his daughter. “She’s still learning.”
Cheyenne stepped toward them. “Okay, wait a minute.”
“Our business is completed,” L’zar said, nodding at Venga and lifting a finger to silence Cheyenne. She folded her arms and glared at him. “But you now have the opportunity to repay the Crown for what she’s done to you.”
Venga’s forked tongue flickered from between his scaly lips. “An opportunity I’d be more than happy to accept.”
“Excellent.” L’zar turned to Cheyenne with a pert smile. “Then when it’s time, you’ll be making the crossing with my daughter.”
Cheyenne stopped. “Wait, what?”
Venga turned his black eyes on her and sneered. “Agreed. Now let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“Hungry?” Ember frowned at him as he stalked across the destroyed Bull’s Head vault to the front entry hole in his former shape and size.
“For the last five years, fae, my meals have been highly unsatisfactory.”
“What did they give you?”
Venga snapped his fingers, and a haze of green smoke bloomed around him before he masked himself in a human illusion with short-cropped black hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and brilliant green eyes. Two hands instead of four slipped into the pockets of his leather jacket as he stepped through the doorway. “You don’t want to know.”
Ember’s eyes widened, and she stepped aside to let the other magicals pass through, pulling up their illusion spells again.
Cheyenne headed over to her father as he strolled casually across the room, his hands clasped behind his back again. “L’zar, I don’t think we need to keep adding magicals to the list.”
“Of course not. But it’s done. Think of him as your personal bodyguard. I can’t be with you when you return, and Venga may even be a better choice. He wants to see the Crown fall as much as we do.” He chuckled. “Perhaps more.”
“How am I supposed to trust someone who stashed his clothes and his magic in a place run by the Bull’s Head?”
“You don’t need to trust him, Cheyenne. Just let him join you.” They stepped outside onto the sidewalk, and L’zar cast a brief glance at Corian and Maleshi, who were discussing lunch options with Venga. “At the very least, his presence will make a much more convincing argument than mine. Ba’rael’s never had much luck with necromancers.”
“With what?” Cheyenne leaned away from him, her eyes wide.
L’zar tossed a hand in the air. “He’s one of the best. Deals with death magic and the spirits of those beyond the deathflame. To tell you the truth, it’s something I’ve never cared to dabble in.”
“Oh, great. You’re sending me back with someone versed in magic too dark for even you to touch. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“It’s not, but the look on Ba’rael’s face when she meets you with Venga at your side will be more than worth it.” L’zar grinned and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I do regret not being able to see that.”
Venga grunted. “Cheeseburgers.”
“Ah.” L’zar stepped away from his daughter, ignoring her scowl, and gestured down the street. “If that’s what you want, we’re happy to assist you.”
“Something I missed very much, yes,” Venga said, smiling as L’zar patted him on the back. They led the rest of the startled magicals down the street to the closest burger joint.
Ember stuck her thumb out at the destroyed building behind them. “We’re gonna leave the place like this?”
“It’s not our problem anymore.” Maleshi joined them. “Think of it as a message for the Bull’s Head. The tables have turned.”
“Yeah, and they’ll know exactly who broke into that trunk to pull out his magic and eat it again.” Lumil snorted and slammed a fist into her other palm. “I’m done fighting shit I can’t hear screaming in pain.”
“Jesus.” Cheyenne shook her
