“Oh, joy,” Byrd muttered flatly. “Then what’s burning?”
“That look like the Sorren Gán’s fire to anyone else?”
“Huh.” Maleshi cocked her head. “Good eye, kid.”
“That thing kept its promise, huh?” Ember folded her arms. “I honestly didn’t expect it to.”
Venga studied the fae, his black eyes glistening in the starlight. “Am I to believe you summoned a Sorren Gán to your will and sent it to Hangivol?”
Ember scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous; that was L’zar. But you better believe that giant fiery asshole with wings came here to clean up your mess, necromancer.” She pointed at him. “Anything goes wrong with the Sorren Gán feasting on magical leftovers, that’s on you.”
“Indeed.” He glanced at her one more time and stalked toward the city. “When we’ve achieved our purpose here, I would very much enjoy speaking to such a creature.”
“Hey, if you can make yourself smell like a drow, Venga, you’re probably in,” Cheyenne said while the goblins sniggered at her comment.
“Perhaps raising your ancestors would grant me an audience with the Sorren Gán,” Venga replied. “You know, the dead ones.”
“Oh.” Cheyenne shrugged. “I guess that’d work too.”
“We need to make this as quick as possible,” Corian muttered. “Not because we’re running out of time, but to give Bianca a—”
“I think we all know what’s at stake, Corian. Thanks.” Cheyenne forced herself to look straight ahead. “This time, we can just roll into the fortress without having to be sneaky or fight off the Crown’s army to put any drow coins on a damn altar, right?”
“That’s it, kid.” Maleshi flexed her fur-covered hands and let out a low growl as they stalked toward the city center and the rising towers of the inner circle around the fortress. “And this round, the Spider can’t do shit to lift a finger against us.”
Ember grinned. “I like that part.”
“Yeah, it has a certain ring to it, huh?”
* * *
The group made their way up the various levels of Hangivol’s circular tiers. None of the O’gúleesh who lived here bothered them, and there wasn’t a single Crown soldier in sight.
Cheyenne nodded at a group of ogres standing at the entrance to a tunnel breaching the level’s outer walls. Feels a lot safer now that L’zar’s not with us. Big surprise, right?
The entrance to the Crown’s inner circle was unguarded, and the rebel group walked swiftly across the dark courtyard where Hangivol’s drow citizens lived. Maleshi reached toward the closest door, intending to open it with a spell. Venga beat her to it by stalking over to the sheet of metal and bashing it inward with two fists. The general lowered her hand and glared at the sheet of metal wobbling and clanging on the floor, ripped off its hinges. “You realize we’ve taken the Heart by surprise once already, don’t you?”
Venga flicked his forked tongue at her. “Of course, General. But breaking down even one of the Spider’s doors pleases me very much.”
Maleshi rolled her eyes and gestured at the now-doorless opening. “By all means, then. As you were.”
Everyone else followed the necromancer inside, and they moved swiftly down empty corridors of stone and metal crafted to look like stone. Cheyenne stuck her activator behind her ear and studied the scrolling lines of code racing across the surface of every wall in green, blue, and yellow. “Doesn’t look like anyone knows we’re here.”
“Or they haven’t started talking about it through the system yet,” Corian muttered. “Either way, I particularly enjoy the silence.”
“You’re right.” Ember gazed from the walls to the high ceilings of the corridor and down the other side. “You’d think it would be super-creepy to walk into a place this big with this much nasty dark magic in it, but it’s peaceful.”
“Not for long, Em. I wouldn’t count on it.” Cheyenne studied the lines of code scrolling across the black metal walls and reached out to an access point illuminated by her activator. Using that, she sent an encrypted message to the Four-Pointed Star, which was hopefully still stationed somewhere beneath the city.
We’re early. Come join us for the new Cycle.
The activator alerted her ten seconds later that the message had been received, and then she got her reply.
Expect our arrival.
Cheyenne smirked. At least they were ready to roll with the punches and change up a few things on the timeline.
Not having to follow L’zar down hidden route after hidden route through the Crown’s fortress meant they cut their time to nearly a quarter of what it had taken them the first time. Sooner than she expected, Cheyenne found herself staring up at the tall, vaulted ceilings of the courtyard at the Heart. The magical dome over the city spilled gray light into the courtyard, barely illuminating the twisted, gnarled Nimlothar tree sprouting from the burst stone at the Heart’s center.
The courtyard was empty.
Cheyenne approached the last Nimlothar and frowned. “This thing looks a lot worse off than the last time we were here.”
“Not much of a surprise.” Maleshi studied the tree’s almost-bare branches and its few fluttering leaves, pulsing weakly with purple light. “This thing’s been used a lot more than it should have been for Ba’rael’s magic. It might be taking a necessary break from overloading itself.”
“Used?”
Corian turned from gazing up at the stone walk on the upper story and met Cheyenne’s gaze. “How do you think that leaf got through the portal in your mom’s backyard, kid?”
Cheyenne’s nostrils flared. “She’s been stealing magic from the tree?”
“’Stealing’ might be a strong word,” Maleshi said. “From what I understand, a Nimlothar will lend its power to a drow—any drow, regardless of what their intentions are.”
“Just because the tree has no idea it’s being robbed, it doesn’t mean it’s not being robbed.”
“No one’s arguing
