Cheyenne tried to dodge the spikes but couldn’t move faster than she already was. She raised a shield, but Ba’rael tore it down and kept firing. Two of the purple spikes hit their target. One grazed the side of Cheyenne’s neck, instantly drawing blood, and the other pierced her chest beneath her shoulder.
The halfling’s scream erupted through the courtyard as she dropped out of enhanced speed and fell to her knees. Black fire flickered along her body, racing up and down, but it did nothing to protect her from the purple dart of Ba’rael’s magic that had stuck her like a spearhead. Lifting a trembling hand, Cheyenne peeled her shirt away from the weapon in her flesh and groaned at the thin black lines snaking away from the dart and spreading quickly across her purple-gray skin.
“Cheyenne!” Ember surged forward, but Corian darted in front of her and pushed her back.
“You can’t get involved, Ember. I’m sorry.”
“That bitch is gonna kill her!”
“We don’t know that.” He wrapped his arms around the panicked fae girl and leaned in to mutter in her ear, “But I do know that if you step in to intervene, you won’t make it out of here alive. The old laws still stand, Ember. It won’t be me or Ba’rael or Cheyenne. Ambar’ogúl will kill you for getting involved.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s the way this world works.”
Swallowing thickly, Ember nodded and stopped fighting him. Corian sniffed, gently released her, and turned around again to watch a fight that looked like it was almost over.
“This is why you will never be the Crown, Cheyenne. You’re too young.” Ba’rael sent a purple dart into her niece’s other shoulder. The halfling screamed again and tossed a stream of black fire at Ba’rael, but the drow woman ducked and kept advancing. “You’re too soft.” Her next purple spear struck Cheyenne’s right hip, right where her first bullet had struck her.
Shrieking, the halfling lost what footing she’d regained and dropped to her knees again. Her hip screamed in pain. She could barely feel her shoulders anymore. Whatever those black lines were burned through her veins.
Breathing heavily, her golden eyes ablaze with crazed victory, Ba’rael approached her wounded niece and loomed over Cheyenne like a hungry predator. “You are far too much like my failure of a brother, Cheyenne.”
“No.” Cheyenne swallowed thickly and lifted her head, trying to keep herself from falling forward and slamming her face into the stone. “I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.”
“Hmm.” Ba’rael grinned and clapped her hands together. When she drew them apart, a blazing circle of black light bloomed between her palms, spitting and hissing with drow magic and all the force Ba’rael could muster behind her final spell.
Oh, fuck. This is it. We all knew I wouldn’t make it through this. At least I’m not laid out on the ground.
“Pity your father isn’t here to see you burn like the rest of his spawn, but I’ll send him a message. In great detail, child. Don’t you worry about that.”
Despite facing her end, Cheyenne found herself laughing. “Trust me, the last thing I’m worried about right now is that lunatic.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Ba’rael pulled her hands all the way apart and prepared to deliver the final blow.
A massive crack rent the air, and the black stone wall at the end of the courtyard behind Ba’rael the Spider ripped open. A violent gust of wind swarmed through the Heart. Ba’rael turned around and staggered back, her mortal spell suspended in the air in front of her.
White light filled the tear in the stone wall, then a warbling screech echoed across the stone courtyard. The thick flap of wingbeats followed, then a shimmering blue beast soared through the tear in space and entered the Heart of the Crown’s fortress.
On the back of the glowing blue luré stood Neros, his white hair and robes whipping around his washed-out face and body. His eyes glowed blue with the pulsing light of the flying stingray beneath him.
Ba’rael gasped and glanced at Cheyenne. Inside the halfling’s pocket, the Darkglass flared. The Crown looked back up at the pale-skinned drow and made the connection.
“I have seen enough!” Neros shouted. His flying mount dove toward the drow women.
Roaring in fury, Ba’rael turned away from Cheyenne and raised her trembling hands toward Neros. The crackling wall of black energy she’d summoned grew stronger as her son approached. His glowing blue eyes were focused on his mother.
The lurè screeched again and pulled out of its dive as Neros leaped from the creature’s back and lunged toward Ba’rael. The Crown screamed and unleashed the attack that was meant to take her niece’s life, not her son’s.
Neros threw his arms around the Crown, his burst of white magic colliding with hers. Neros, his lurè, and the screaming Ba’rael burst into millions of glittering lights. The Spider’s last vengeful scream still echoed within the stone walls. Tiny particles of what had once been two magicals locked in an embrace fluttered away on a soft breeze, disappearing like ash. Then there was nothing at all.
Cheyenne stared at the empty space where they’d just been. Everything hurt. Everything was numb. She swallowed and tried to stand but only managed to get one foot squarely planted on the stone floor instead of both her knees. “What. The. Fuck?”
“Oh, my God.” Ember raced toward her and bent over Cheyenne’s wounds. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“I can’t believe it, Cheyenne. You’re not fucking dead!”
“I’m okay.”
“This is probably gonna hurt.”
“What…ah!”
Ember ripped the first purple dart out of Cheyenne’s shoulder and tossed it aside. “Sorry. You’ve had worse, right?”
“Sure, Em.” Cheyenne swayed where she knelt. “Loads worse. Ah, fuck!”
The second dart clattered across the stone floor, shedding a thin trail of halfling blood behind it.
“Now, this one in your hip.”
Cheyenne snatched the girl’s wrist in one hand and jerked it away from her hip. “Touch that one, Ember, and I’ll throw you the fuck across
