“You haven’t even tested it yet.”
“I don’t need to.”
Chuckling, Cheyenne reached toward her friend. “Want a boost?”
“That’s a seriously dumb question.” Ember draped her arm over Cheyenne’s shoulders and let the halfling pick her up and set her in the seat-shaped depression in the center of the machine. “Jeeze, getting in and out of your car would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if you could run around freely like a superdrow.”
“Not an option back home, but yeah. Would’ve saved us a lot of time.” Cheyenne straightened and gave her friend time to shift around and get comfortable in the machine.
Ember’s gaze moved slowly across the smooth surface of the control panel at her fingertips. “I can’t believe this. It’s so easy.”
“That’s the point. Try it.”
The fae girl swiped the panel, and the machine’s legs lifted her higher off the ground before turning back toward the gate. Ember grinned, absorbed in the novelty of her first O’gúl activator.
Cheyenne snorted, tried to hold it back, then burst out laughing.
“What?”
“You.” The halfling doubled over and howled with laughter, stomping her feet. Every time she looked at her friend, she lost it all over again and had to turn away.
“All right, spit it out.” Ember folded her arms and chuckled despite trying to look fed up. “What, am I doing it wrong?”
“No,” Cheyenne squeaked through another laugh, waving her hand in front of her face. She sucked in a huge breath. “You’re rocking the Doc Ock look like a pro!” She barely got the last word out before she cracked up all over again.
“Oh, so we watch one Spiderman movie, and now you’re throwing around Marvel references?”
“I can’t help it.” Cheyenne wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with the back of a hand and sniffed. “I totally blame you.”
“He called it a ‘crawler.’” Ember wrinkled her nose. “Does it really look like Doc Ock?”
Cheyenne pressed her lips together and nodded vigorously. Then she barked out another laugh. “Yeah, if he was sitting in a chair.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to get inside and be part of the meeting with the chief?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’re wasting a lot of time laughing at me.” Ember rolled her eyes and turned the machine toward the gates. “It’s cooler than a wheelchair.”
The machine lifted again on its mechanical legs, and with a swipe of her finger across the controls, Ember took off in the scuttling contraption. Cheyenne tried not to laugh and ended up laughing anyway as she followed her friend toward the gates.
Six feet from the small open door, Ember stopped, the metal legs clinking against the stone. “Crap. How the hell am I supposed to get through there?”
Cheyenne fell into another fit of laughter, holding herself around the middle while Ember glared at her over her shoulder.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry, Em. Oh, man. I wish you could see what I’m seeing right now.”
A raug peered out of the open garage door in the base of the tower and whistled sharply. He waved them toward him, and Ember lifted her chin. “Always a way, Cheyenne.”
“Yeah, you have your own private entrance and everything.”
The fae tossed her head and steered the crawler toward the beckoning raug. Cheyenne followed and finally managed to pull it together. Just watch her head. Don’t look at the legs. Chuckling, she stepped into the base of the tower and pressed her lips together as the garage door groaned shut again behind them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cheyenne and Ember passed through the tower onto a wide stone walkway that ran around the perimeter of Hirúl Breach. The rest of the city was depressed into the canyon floor another ten feet, making the rising buildings of metal and stone even taller now that they could see their full height. The less-advanced metropolis was a quarter the size of Hangivol.
Most of the magicals here were raugs. The occasional goblin’s green skin stuck out against so many hulking gray bodies, and as Cheyenne and Ember traveled down the stairs at the end of the walkway, the sound of steel pounding on stone grew louder from almost every direction.
The raugs gave them passing glances, but none of them stared at either the girls or the crawler. This can’t be a normal sight around here.
The guard who’d brought Ember the crawler shouted from a doorway in the wall beneath the walkway. “Healer! This way.”
They followed him through the door, which was thankfully wide enough for the machine to get through with only the occasional scrape into the long hallway beyond it. Ember gritted her teeth as she tried to guide the crawler in a perfectly straight line, her head jerking sideways when the wide base of her seat got too close to the wall and knocked her away.
“You good?”
“I’m fine,” Ember hissed. “Still better than a wheelchair.”
Cheyenne focused on the back of Ember’s head.
The guard led them to another door on the left and stepped aside to let them enter. He had to press himself against the wall to avoid getting crushed by the scuttling crawler, but he nodded firmly at Cheyenne when she followed Ember into the room beyond and closed the door behind them.
The magicals sitting around an intricately carved stone table stopped the discussion when the clink and whir of Ember’s crawler echoed along the back wall. The meeting included all of Cheyenne’s party, the raug chief, and three older, skeptical-looking raugs taking up the chairs closest to their leader. Cazerel’s orange eyes lit up when he saw Ember, his pointed teeth flashing in a wide grin. “Healer! Join us.”
“Thanks.”
“How does the crawler suit you, eh? You won’t find the sniveling-fancy spark in Hirúl Breach like they have in Hangivol.”
“It’s great. Thanks.” Ember steered the machine toward the corner of the huge table and positioned herself between Lumil and Corian.
“Good. Good.” Cazerel nodded vigorously and took a moment
