“He explained everything to you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t ask for it.”
With a wry chuckle, Cheyenne folded her arms and stared at her friend. “You’re diving deep into this, aren’t you?”
“Hey, I’m not trying to convince you L’zar’s a great guy. I’m not sure anyone believes that one hundred percent. I’m just saying he’s changing. All the magicals who’ve known him forever can see it.”
“They told you that explicitly, huh?”
“Yeah.” Ember raised an eyebrow. “They were pretty worried about the whole thing.”
“They shouldn’t have been. I was pissed, but even if Corian and Maleshi hadn’t gotten in the way, I would’ve run out of steam eventually. That tends to happen.”
“Cheyenne, they weren’t holding you back to protect L’zar.”
The halfling wrinkled her nose. “What?”
“They were protecting you. Which apparently didn’t need to happen because L’zar’s been working on not killing the wrong people when he gets angry. You know, like his daughter.”
“Huh.” Cheyenne blinked at the pile of food on the table and shrugged. “I could still take him.”
“Oh, my God.” Ember laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re not even willing to say it’s possible that he’s trying to be better?”
“I don’t know, Em. Not something I wanna think about right now. The guy basically killed himself for power no one else had, and I don’t know what that says about how much he can change.”
“What?”
Crap. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I can’t let my guard down around him, not all the way. I mean, however many thousands of years he’s been alive, he’s been Ambar’ogúl’s trickster thief the whole time. Why would he stop that now?”
“Hmm. I hear people do weird things when they have kids.”
Cheyenne snorted, then a cheer rose from outside, followed by a growling chant of, “Cu’ón! Cu’ón!”
“What the hell?” Cheyenne stood and quickly went out to the terrace. Below, a crowd of raugs had gathered around a cleared circle in the square. L’zar squatted on one side of the ring they’d formed, grinning at a huge raug sitting cross-legged on the other side. The raug cast some sort of spell, and L’zar copied the gestures almost exactly. Bright light strobed from their hands, and Cheyenne blinked against the glare before heading back into the room.
“Okay, you can’t stand there watching without telling me what’s going on down there. Immobile fae girl, remember?”
“He’s down there competing in some kind of spell-off with a raug. I have no idea what they’re doing.”
“Oh.” Ember perked up. “That sounds cool.”
“If your magical battery recharges before we leave, I’m sure you’ll have a chance to try it out for yourself.” Cheyenne plopped back down onto the lounge, then turned and kicked up both feet to stretch them out in front of her. “I’m totally fine with sitting here and doing nothing for a while. Things feel okay right now, you know? I mean, if we ignore the whole part about this entire world falling apart under the Crown’s shitty ruling habits.”
“Ha. Delicately phrased.”
Cheyenne widened her eyes and shrugged. “You know me, Em. Super-eloquent halfling.”
“I know what you mean, though. Not always running around trying to fight off the next thing coming for you. I mean, I don’t know what it’s been like for you, but I can imagine.”
“It is what it is. It’s kinda nice to sit back and know that at least right now, nothing’s coming after me, and no one’s gonna open a portal into our apartment and tell us to get ready for something right now.”
Ember glanced around and grimaced. “I’d knock on wood right now if there was any.”
“Not trying to jinx it.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I know how much work it’s gonna take before anything in this world looks even half right again. I don’t think I can even say things have ever been right with a drow on the throne.”
“Maybe not our version of right.” Ember sipped at her water. “But right for this world. Like the fighting pits.”
“Oh, yeah. Everybody goes crazy for the chance to smash each other up for fun and call it honor and glory.” The halfling chuckled and closed her eyes. “Not to mention purposely slicing each other to the brink of death.”
Ember laughed. “Can’t say a little fun never hurt anybody anymore, can we?”
“Not in Ambar’ogúl.”
“No, I’m talking about the deathflame and the healing part. This place runs on violence. That’s obvious. But it seems to balance itself out, you know? Violence as a way of enjoying peace. Or getting seriously fucked up for a purpose. Get healed in the fighting pits and spread more life magic to this entire world.”
“Hey, good idea.” Grinning, Cheyenne swept her hand in a wide arc around the room. “Let’s set up a giant fighting pit and have everybody go at each other at once. Giant deathflame bonfire on millions of dying bodies, and bam. All the blight gone, everybody healed and happy, and we go home.”
“In theory, that sounds like a promising solution.” Ember refilled her copper cup and sat back again, cradling it in both hands. “Not sure how great it’d work out, though. That’s a lot of deathflame torches on a lot of bodies.”
“We could figure it out.”
They were silent for a moment, then Ember added, “You planning on going back home and picking up right where you left off after all this is over?”
“Probably. I mean, no, not right where I left off. That’ll be impossible after getting the Crown to step down. L’zar said I had two options: stay as the Crown here, or go back home and be Earth’s drow royalty there instead.”
“Everybody needs a leader, right?”
Cheyenne said, “Not everyone, but all those O’gúleesh who made the crossing to get away from this mess? Probably. The FRoE isn’t enough to handle things over there anymore. They don’t even know what they’re handling, or how to help those magicals beyond sticking their names in a stupid database
