Maleshi shook her head. “Those new portals were apparently just overflow.”
Cheyenne cast a scathing glance at L’zar, who conveniently chose that moment to turn away from the group and study the escaping magic. “So I heard.”
“Dampening wards or binding spells are only a temporary patch, anyway. I’m not sure they’d be any more effective than what you did. Obviously, we can’t keep trying to hold this magic in. The Crown’s attempt at that already failed.”
Ember rubbed her arm and shrugged. “What about evacuating the city? Get everyone out of here, and then if something happens…”
“I like where your mind’s headed, Ember.” Maleshi shook her head. “But that would make things even worse. It’s a small part of the bigger picture, but the last Nimlothar tree still stands at the center of the Heart. At least, I hope it does after this, and it won’t do any good for this world if the capital disappears off the face of it. The Crown and the Heart will both be gone. That leaves a massive power vacuum around here, and Ambar’ogúl will become the biggest battleground any of us have ever seen. Bigger than anything in the world’s history, I’d bet. Hangivol isn’t just a city. It has a power of its own.”
“Like, it’s alive?” Ember watched the nightstalkers.
“In its own way.” Corian dipped his head, clasping his hands behind his back. “The kind of explosion that could very well take out this entire city won’t be contained. Imagine someone nuking Washington DC and taking out the entire eastern half of the US with it. Not something we can afford to let happen.”
Cheyenne folded her arms. “So, what do we do?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.” Corian glanced at L’zar’s back as the drow thief watched the magical pillar and listened in on the conversation at the same time. “And quickly. We can’t afford a long deliberation about this.”
* * *
L’zar’s rebels gathered around one of the open fighting pits, everyone sitting down at the edges and dangling their feet, claws, or hooves over the white sand below as they discussed their options.
Cheyenne fought back a smile as she gazed around the square of deliberating rebels. Not as sophisticated as sitting around a table, but I guess it works.
“So, a hold’s out of the question, then?”
“Of course it is. It would take all of us combined to hold back a fraction of what’s seeping out of the Heart as we speak.”
“I don’t suppose Ba’rael’s alchemists came up with a way to distribute magic to more than one individual.”
L’zar snorted. “She must be furious right now.”
Corian shot him an exasperated glance. “I’m normally fond of your ability to find amusement in every situation. Now’s not one of those times.”
“Just an observation, vae shra’ni.” The drow shrugged and set his hands behind him on the metal floor to lean back and look up at the clear blue sky.
“Do we know any conjurers?”
“Not closer than three days from here, and you know they won’t accept a journey by portal. Impossible to pinpoint them anyway.”
“What about our alchemists?”
“We don’t have any alchemists, Jara’ak. She took them all.”
A dozen more options were offered, and the conversation grew into a shouting match as the Four-Pointed Star realized they were wasting time and still couldn’t come to a satisfying conclusion. L’zar raised his eyebrows at Cheyenne and leaped away from the edge of the pit, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing across the open metal ground.
“All right, stop. Stop!” Maleshi raised both hands, and when the magicals around her kept arguing, she sent two bolts of silver lightning into the opposite wall of the pit. They stopped immediately and looked at her.
“Well?”
“I’m not sure yet. I can’t think when you’re all squabbling like these two.” Maleshi tossed a hand toward Lumil and Byrd, who were sitting along the adjacent wall of the pit. Lumil elbowed Byrd in the side, and she bumped her into her other neighbor with a grunt.
Corian lifted his head. “We could take a request to the Sorren Gán.”
L’zar spun toward the pit and shook his head. “Absolutely not. Keep thinking.”
“None of us wanted to say it, brother, but it’s the most obvious solution.”
“There’s always a way around the obvious solution, Corian. Cheyenne’s proof of that.” L’zar nodded at his daughter and picked up his pacing again. This time, it was tense and aggravated.
“L’zar.” Foltr smacked his stick against the pit wall beside his dangling legs. “You know how that could help us. Follow that knowledge and set your cowardice aside, will you?”
The drow thief whirled on the elderly raug and snarled, “I’m not going. That’s my final word, and if I have to order each and every one of you not to mention it again, I will.”
Foltr laughed deeply and swung his cane up to point at Cheyenne. “You gave up the right to give us orders when you handed over your blood right to your daughter. Unless she orders me to be silent, I’ll sing about the Sorren Gán all night if I have to.”
L’zar’s eyes widened, and he sneered at the shriveled raug. Foltr raised his thick brows, and the drow snarled before spinning away into more pacing.
“I think that’s our best option at this point.” Corian nodded and pushed himself up. “Does anyone disagree with me?”
The rebels exchanged wary glances but didn’t offer any protest.
“Then we’ll send out a party. I’m happy to make the journey again.”
“I’m not,” L’zar spat. Corian ignored him.
“There’s a first time for everything.” With a wry chuckle, Maleshi stood and dusted off her pants. “I wouldn’t miss this trip for the world. Hell, for both of them.”
“Anyone else who wants to be part of this is welcome.” Corian nodded at the rebels slowly rising from their makeshift seats. “L’zar’s coming, of course. Ember, you’re free to stay here with the others if you like, though I’m sure you won’t because Cheyenne, we need you with us.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne accepted Ember’s hand for
