Blinking and snorting against the residual green flames, the raug’s orange eyes settled on Cheyenne. He grinned and stomped toward her. “Shit.”
Cheyenne slipped into drow speed and raced toward him. Just before she reached the gray-skinned magical, he turned with surprising speed for someone that size and lowered his shoulder toward her with a quick step forward. She couldn’t stop in time and crashed into his muscular frame. It knocked her out of enhanced speed and sent her flailing across the stone.
He straightened and grinned at her. “Surprise.”
Raugs don’t have superspeed. How the hell do they move that fast? She cocked her head at him and spread her arms. “That all you got?”
The raug lumbered toward her. “No.”
Metal hinges creaked at the base of the wall, and the smaller door opened. Foltr lurched through first, the clack of his cane unheard beneath the din of the brawl. “What is this? Not even an hour.”
Cazerel ducked through the door with Ember in his arms and snorted, his eyes widening when he saw what was happening. “Excuse me, Healer.”
Ember stared at the brawl. “For what?”
“What I am about to do.” The raug chief stalked toward a short ledge of stone jutting from the wall of the canyon against which Hirúl Breach’s outer wall was built and set her down with a firm nod. “My apologies.”
He didn’t wait for her to say anything but whirled and stormed toward the fight. “Enough!”
His booming voice cracked across the courtyard in front of the gates. At their chieftain’s angry shout, every raug stopped immediately and straightened. The nightstalkers fell out of their enhanced speed with silver flashes. Cheyenne stepped away from the raug, who was no longer coming at her. Too far gone to her battle rage, Lumil charged her opponent with a roar. The raug reached out with one hand and wrapped his long gray fingers around the top of the goblin woman’s head, holding her away from him at arm’s length while she snarled and swung uselessly with her spinning red fists.
“Lumil,” Cheyenne muttered. “Hey, cut it out.”
The goblin woman grunted, then reached up with both hands and jerked the raug’s palm off her head. “Get the hell off me.”
The raug lowered his arm and stared at his chief, ignoring her like an elephant ignoring a fly.
L’zar finally stood and clasped his hands behind his back to watch the raug chief with a knowing smile.
“Who is responsible for this?” Cazerel boomed. None of his magicals replied, so he stalked down the line of raug men, who were all at least a foot shorter than him, thumping a hand against his bare chest. “You see this? Do you see your chief standing here before you? I lay ready to face the end, and I come to greet new friends, only to find you thick-headed beasts thanking them with your fists. Tell me what happened!”
“Zokrí.” The raug whose loose tunic was shredded to ribbons from Maleshi’s claws stepped forward and pounded his chest. “This was vengeance.”
Cazerel snarled. “For what?”
“Felagtrok.” The raug gestured at Maleshi. “General Hi’et returns.”
The chief turned toward Maleshi. Under his gaze and finally catching her breath, the general straightened and clasped her hands behind her back, lifting her chin.
“So she does.” Cazerel nodded with another grunt of acknowledgment. “Felagtrok was a long time ago. Consider this battle the only vengeance you will have, Bru’uga.”
The raug snarled at Maleshi but lowered his gaze when the chief looked at him. “I am not satisfied.”
“Neither am I.” Cazerel pounded his chest again. “See this! Your chief stands tall outside Hirúl Breach’s gates because General Hi’et’s party brought a fae to our door.” His massive arm swung toward Ember, who was still sitting on the rock ledge beyond the gates. She coughed, then cleared her throat. “The healer has claimed victory over the deathflame for me. Maleshi Hi’et’s debt to you has been paid with my life. Leave it.”
“Zokrí.” Bru’uga dipped his head and stood perfectly still as Cazerel headed toward Foltr.
The chief leaned toward the aged raug and muttered, “You and yours are welcome in our city now, old one. Bring them. We have much to discuss.”
“We do.” Foltr nodded at the raug towering almost two feet above his shoulders.
Cazerel headed toward the open door at the base of the gates and muttered something in French to a waiting guard. The guard nodded and disappeared inside, then the chief followed, stooping to squeeze his massive frame through the doorway.
Foltr cracked his cane on the stone floor and glared at the subdued raug warriors. His scowl turned on Maleshi and Corian next, and he moved slowly back through the open door, muttering and shaking his head.
“Well.” L’zar chuckled and strolled casually across the small courtyard. “Hell of a welcome, huh?”
Grinning at the gathered raugs, he dipped his head and slipped through the door after Foltr.
Corian stepped away from the warriors and nodded before taking his leave. The raugs glared at him and then Maleshi when she followed Corian into the city.
Cheyenne nudged Lumil and muttered, “I’ll go get Ember.”
“Yeah. Get the chief-healing fae.” The goblin woman scoffed at the warriors and stomped off, rubbing her hand vigorously through her mop of yellow hair until it hung over her eyes. Byrd jumped and headed after her, looking between the open door and the raug warriors growling at him.
Weird to not be the center of everyone’s hatred, but I’ll take it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cheyenne headed quickly across the stone square toward Ember, who propped herself up on the ledge with her hands behind her and started coughing again.
“Hey.” Cheyenne stopped
