“How does that even work?”
Corian cocked his head and grinned at the halfling. “Imagine the darktongue salve spread all over your body, kid.”
“Yeah, I remember when that happened pretty clearly, thanks.”
“And inside your body. Swimming through your veins and up into your head. If you’re willing to choose that for the benefit of Ambar’ogúl.”
Cheyenne nodded slowly and glanced into the pit again. “Of course you get the victory.”
“Cheyenne.”
She looked at Maleshi, who was smiling at her. “What?”
“You look a little pale.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “That’s what happens when nobody tells me not to worry about my friends trying to kill each other. Hey, leave it up to the green flames turning Corian into a bonfire. No big deal.”
“Okay.” Corian chuckled. “Admittedly, we could have prepared you for that. Can’t blame us too much for getting caught up in the moment.”
“That’s what you call it, huh?” Cheyenne snorted. “I almost lost it.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, kid, however unnecessary.”
“Obviously.”
Maleshi lifted her chin and studied Cheyenne. “I’m more interested that she called us friends.”
The halfling brushed away locks of white hair that had fallen out of her bun and folded her arms. “Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. You’re already swimming in deathflame insanity.”
The nightstalkers burst out laughing.
“Come on. The whole day’s a celebration, Cheyenne. Might as well make the most of it.” Corian turned and nodded in the direction of the crowd swarming toward the other newly opened fighting pits. “Maybe you’ll appreciate our O’gúl brand of beauty if you’re not worried about two friends killing each other in the ring.”
“That’s a hell of a maybe.” With a final glance into the pit beside them, Cheyenne followed the nightstalkers toward the other pits to join the celebration. This world is ass-backward sometimes, but those two are looking especially chummy right now.
“Cheyenne!” Ember floated through the streaming magicals, grinning and shaking her hands beside her head in excitement. “Did you see that?”
“Corian getting his throat slit? Totally.”
“Oh, my God. That was amazing!” Ember laughed when Cheyenne scowled at her. “Not that Corian got this throat slit. That part sucks. I mean the fight. The fire. All of it. That’s the fucking deathflame!”
“Apparently, yeah.” Despite her shock, Cheyenne couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s passionate reaction. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I am! Come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel all this. I don’t even know what to call it.” The fae pointed at her friend and chuckled. “Happiness isn’t the right word, but holy shit.”
“They’re free, Em.”
“Yeah. I think I was going for ‘connected,’ but free works too. This whole thing is a lot bigger than I thought. What you did yesterday. Ah!” Ember pumped a fist and bobbed over the heads of the crowd before settling back down into her hovering position an inch above the metal floor.
“Was that a jump?”
Ember rolled her eyes. “I’m still working on that part. Doesn’t quite feel the same as doing it with my own leg muscles, but I can’t complain.”
Laughing, Cheyenne moved through the crowd with her friend, leaning away when Ember let out a shout of excitement with everyone else. Guess battle rage is contagious on this side. Can’t be all that bad as long as nobody takes it too far.
Chapter Eleven
A goblin and what looked like a giant hamster with bat wings and fangs got the first fight in the closest re-opened pit. The crowd of celebrating magicals had split among the six fighting pits in Vedrosha to watch the show. Others left the excitement to take to the streets of the lower levels again, dancing and drinking and celebrating in their own way now that they’d been satisfied by watching the first pit fight in centuries.
Cheyenne grimaced at the flying hamster thing darting around the goblin. “Any idea what that is?”
Ember grinned at her and shrugged. “Who cares? They’re about to start!”
The fae girl pumped her fists, surprisingly into the fight and the raucous energy spilling through Hangivol. Cheyenne shoved her hands in her pockets and found herself studying the magicals around her fulfilling some primal O’gúleesh instinct. Instinct for madness. That was the legacy I claimed yesterday with that damn coin.
A hand settled lightly on her shoulder, and she turned to see L’zar behind her, gazing over her head at the crowd. “Perfect time for us to slip away, Cheyenne. They won’t even notice we’re gone. Come on.”
“Yeah, okay.” Pretty much anything sounds better than being caught up in this right now. Cheyenne nudged Ember’s arm. “Em.”
“Yeah.” The fae girl turned her head but didn’t look away from the fight.
“I’m stepping out with L’zar for a second.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Have fun.” Ember roared with everyone else when the magicals started fighting. “Get him!”
Cheyenne slipped away from her friend and followed L’zar’s tall, erect figure as he practically floated through the spectators without a levitation spell. The magicals parted around them as they made their way out of Vedrosha and back into the main metropolis of the lower levels. Like they know we’re coming and step away without even seeing us. I bet he’s got some kind of spell for that too.
When they emerged from the crowd, L’zar paused to let her catch up. He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and smoothed his hair away from his face before it fell around his shoulders again. “Gets loud out there, doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t think you’d have a problem with crowds.”
He cast her a sidelong glance. “Only when they stop serving a purpose. This way.”
They walked down the main avenue circling the lower level, where O’gúleesh freely brawled, drank, danced, and gathered in the street without fear of the Crown’s ever-watchful gaze. A yellow-skinned gremlin leaped in front of them, cackling, and removed a ratty top hat from his head of frazzled gray hair. “A drow in Ritfarrin.” The gremlin bowed low, leering
