“Did you drink too much last night too?”
“Definitely not. I was thinking about the future.”
Maleshi approached them from the other end of the table, her face buried in her upturned tankard as she gulped down the entire thing. She stopped in front of the young magicals, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and grinned. “Nothing like this O’gúl piss to get you moving again in the morning. You want some?”
Ember leaned away from the general. “O’gúl what?”
“Nah, it’s just grog. The real kind, not the shit I’ve heard about them serving in Peridosh.” Maleshi turned and slammed the tankard on the table. “Does the job right. I heard you, by the way. We still get hangovers on this side, but the hangover cures are hard to beat.”
Cheyenne eyed the nightstalker woman. “Yeah, you’re looking peppy.”
“Thank you very much.” Maleshi gave her a goofy little bow. “You two enjoy yourselves last night?”
“In weird ways, yeah.”
Ember pointed at the general and cocked her head. “You definitely had fun.”
Maleshi picked her teeth with an extended claw and shrugged. “I guess it was a long time coming. I’d like to say I got it out of my system. I’m back, which I never thought would happen. Just making the most of a weirdly nostalgic situation. There’s breakfast over there if you want any.”
“Does it have eyes?”
The general snorted. “Not that I know of.”
“Perfect.”
Ember elbowed Cheyenne in the side and muttered through clenched teeth, “Ask her.”
“What?”
“Ask her about the thing.”
Maleshi turned her wide, glowing silver eyes on the fae girl and grinned. “I’m standing right here, Ember.”
Ember glared at the halfling until Cheyenne stepped back and gestured at the general with both hands. The fae girl asked, “Okay, fine. Is that thing real?”
Maleshi glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. “I don’t follow.”
Ember pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes when Cheyenne didn’t step in to help her. “The fancy skull cup. That was, like, a symbol or something, right?”
“Oh.” The general threw her head back and laughed. “No, that’s a very real skull from a very dead magical.”
Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets and nodded. “Let me guess. His name was Dahal. Don’t look that surprised. You said it like five times last night.”
“Caught me.” Maleshi gave them an exaggerated grin. “He was my mentor once upon a time. One of the fiercest warriors I’ve ever met, and he taught me almost everything I know. The rest of it I taught myself, and that’s why he’s dead. Any other questions?”
Ember swallowed. “Nope. That about sums it up for me.”
“Great. Get some food while you can. When we head out of here, we’re going in style.”
“That’s right!” Byrd straightened from where he crouched over a plate of food and slurped something noodle-like into his mouth before pumping a fist. “General Hi’et’s finally getting her warlord’s procession!”
“Shut up.” Lumil shoved the goblin man in the back and Byrd stumbled forward, his arms outstretched to keep his breakfast on his plate.
Maleshi raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what we’re doing.”
“Sure it is.” Corian lugged a crate toward the other side of the bunker and grinned at them as he passed. “The O’gúleesh in Hangivol need to see their hero return.”
“Uh, no. If anyone’s the hero, it’s Cheyenne.”
The halfling pointed at her and shook her head. “Don’t put that shit on me.”
Maleshi laughed. “No procession for this warlord. I had my fun yesterday.”
Jara’ak dusted off his hands after moving another crate and leered at the general from the other side of the bunker. “Should’ve known so many centuries on Earth would make you soft, Maleshi. You won’t even take your moment, huh? It’s gotta be shoved down your throat instead.”
The general scowled at him. “Okay, fine.”
“The Blade of the Unseen Eye returns to raze the streets of Hangivol!” The rebel who’d raised the cry ducked behind a group of magicals gathered around the breakfast spread, but they all echoed the cheer with grins and pumped fists.
Maleshi rolled her eyes. “I’m done listening to these idiots. Eat. Then we’re getting the hell out of this place.”
“Not a fan of long periods underground, huh?” Corian chuckled as he headed back toward them.
“Says the nightstalker who could’ve set himself anywhere in the world and chose an unfinished basement apartment with concrete walls.” The general put her hands on her hips and stared after him with a raised eyebrow when he walked past. “That’s right. It didn’t take me long to find your not-so-secret lair, vae shra’ni.”
Corian laughed but didn’t continue the banter.
“I need more grog.” Maleshi snatched up her tankard and spun toward the far end of the table, wagging her finger between Cheyenne and Ember. “I’m serious. Eat something. You’re gonna need it.”
Cheyenne cocked her head. “She almost sounds like how I imagine most people’s moms talk to their kids. I’ll know there’s something wrong when she starts telling us to wash our hands and not to play with fire or knives.” Snorting at her joke, she turned toward Ember. “What’s wrong with you?”
“She killed her own mentor.” Ember grimaced. “And she drinks out of his skull.”
“Nightstalkers, right?” Shrugging, Cheyenne headed toward the other side of the bunker and the strong scents of something at the very least edible rising from a table against the wall. “Still a good idea to eat, though.”
“Is it? Is it really? ‘Cause now I’m expecting to be handed a fork made from the bones of their enemies.”
The halfling grinned. “That would be cool as hell.”
Chapter Nine
Half an hour later, the surviving rebels of the Four-Pointed Star surged through the huge iron double doors out of the bunker and headed toward the upper levels of the capital. The stone halls echoed with their shouts and rowdy laughter, jests flying through the air as the magicals speculated on what they’d find when they reached the surface. Cheyenne found herself caught up in the excitement, not caring where
