As she studied the cave, Cheyenne muttered, “And the second time?”
“When he came back out. Honestly, Cheyenne, that one was worse. I think that’s when he started to lose his mind.”
When he leaned away from her, Cheyenne looked into his glowing silver eyes. He gave her a reassuring nod, but his concerned frown expressed what he really thought. The nightstalker turned away and jumped down into the stone clearing, standing with his feet spread wide and his arms folded to watch L’zar and Foltr preparing for their Sorren Gán-summoning ritual.
Shit. The drow prince who doesn’t care about anything is about to take us to the one thing in two worlds that terrifies him. Won’t this be fun?
Ember floated toward the halfling and gave her a weak smile. “Everything okay?”
“I have no idea, Em. After all this is over, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Anything I can do?”
“Cross your fingers, maybe?”
Ember raised both hands and crossed her fingers. They smiled at each other, but it didn’t make either of them feel better.
L’zar returned to the pile of burning plants in the center of the clearing and knelt to rearrange them in a pattern for his ritual summoning. Foltr grunted and started to lower himself to his knees beside the drow, but L’zar grabbed the ancient raug’s arm to stop him and shook his head. “You’ve done enough, Grandfather. This one’s on me.”
Foltr snorted. “It won’t help you, but I’m relieved to hear you say it. For my sake.”
L’zar chuckled humorlessly and went back to work arranging the burning twigs, branches, and long flowering stems. When he’d finished creating the O’gúleesh symbol with the flames, he stood and cast a summoning spell, his lips moving in a barely audible whisper. Then he spat on the symbol, and every patch of fire, flickering flames, and burning plant flared with renewed strength. The multicolored flames roared to three times their normal height, the burning cave most of all. The fires flickered in and out of different colors, favoring green and black, and a roar like howling wind and crumbling stone came from the mouth of the cave.
A low, rumbling laugh filled the clearing, and the fires settled back to their normal size. The voice coming from within the cave and echoing maddeningly within the bowl-shaped stone clearing was deeper and far more sinister than any voice had a right to be. “Come now, little drow. I told you two thousand years ago you and I would become good friends. It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought.”
L’zar grimaced at the mouth of the cave and lifted his chin. “I’ve come back with another proposition for you, Sorren Gán. Will you hear it?”
The Sorren Gán’s growling laughter made Cheyenne’s eyes water, the sound vibrating in her head and chest. “I will always listen to you. I see you’ve brought another of the dark ones with you this time.”
“Yes.”
Cheyenne clenched her fists. It’s talking about me.
“Only the two drow on my doorstep may enter today,” the Sorren Gán rumbled. “I can’t stand the smell of the rest of you.”
The flames around the cave changed to dark light and shrank to reveal the unimpeded entrance. It was pitch-black inside.
Baring his teeth in a silent snarl, L’zar turned to the rest of the group and gestured toward Cheyenne without looking at her. “Let’s go.”
“I thought we were all supposed to go talk to this thing together?”
“Clearly the plan has changed.” L’zar bowed his head, grimacing at the stone. He couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them. “I’ll drag you in there if I have to, but this will be a lot easier if you come willingly.”
Right. Willingly into the private cave of a thing that eats drow. Perfect.
Clenching her jaw, Cheyenne glanced at Ember, nodded, and hopped down into the clearing. Behind her, Byrd swallowed and muttered, “Good luck.”
What do I say to that? “Thanks.”
She walked past Corian, who dipped his head in acknowledgment.
Even the nightstalker doesn’t think we’ll make it out of this one in one piece, and here I am, following L’zar into the fire.
When she reached her father, L’zar lowered his arm to his side again and turned to the cave entrance. The second they reached the mouth of the cave, the flames burst to life again, seemingly blocking their path. L’zar rolled his eyes. “It’s fucking with us. Let’s go.”
“Uh-huh.” Cheyenne stared at the flames licking inches from her face and let her father step through first. When he didn’t scream or shrivel into a drow crisp, she rolled her shoulders and entered behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
The multicolored flames were cool against Cheyenne’s skin, but on the other side, the cold permeating the pitch-black cave made her pause. If the cold’s bothering me in here, it’d probably kill the others—that or the smell.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized the cave was much larger than it looked from the outside. It stretched endlessly in front of them, the stone walls rising into the side of the mountain until she couldn’t see the top. Flames flickered across the walls, black smoke wafting in the frigid darkness. Looks a lot like the in-between if you ask me.
On the far side of the cave was a massive lake, the surface covered in endless purple flames. The crackle and hiss of unnaturally burning stone and the occasional spark tossed into the air punctured the silence. L’zar took three steps forward, Cheyenne at his side, then dropped to one knee without warning.
She frowned down at him. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t lift his bowed head. “We’re not here to fuck around. Kneel.”
“Yes,” the Sorren Gán roared in its overwhelmingly brutal voice. “You learned that lesson the first time we met. Didn’t you, L’zar?”
Cheyenne quickly scanned the dark cave and couldn’t see a thing. Where the hell is it?
L’zar’s cold fingers clamped around her wrist and he jerked her to her knees. She pulled
