“Hungry, vae shra’ni?” another warrior called, glaring at Corian’s profile as the nightstalker headed cautiously toward Maleshi. “If one unit is enough for a raug, it’s enough for you.”
Corian ignored the glares burning into his back and offered one of the bricks to Maleshi with a nod.
“Dae’bruj.” Another warrior chucked the gourd on the ground and rose swiftly to his feet. “That is not for you to give.”
“I saw what’s in the cart, raug.” Corian cast the warriors a fleeting glance. “We’re not running low.”
“Not your decision.”
“I already made it.”
The warriors snarled and sneered at the nightstalkers, either sitting up straight or standing to add to the threat. On the other side of the clearing, Byrd smacked Lumil with the back of a hand and nodded at the growing tension. Lumil crammed the rest of her bar into her mouth and chewed fiercely, barely managing to keep it all from spilling out as she stared at another brewing battle.
“The Hand of the Night and Circle eats from the Crown’s hand, nightstalker. Not from ours.”
Corian shook the bar at Maleshi again. She snatched it from him and whirled around, gritting her teeth as she turned her back on the warriors to eat in silence.
“Will you pay for her crimes too?” The warrior who’d stood first stormed toward Corian. “That’s a high price.”
Corian darted toward the warriors in a flash of silver light and stopped mere inches in front of the snarling raug. One long, deadly sharp claw pressed against the raug’s belly right below his sternum. Looking calmly up at the gray-skinned magical, Corian flashed a feral grin beneath blazing silver eyes. “I heard the debt was already paid, brother. It’s rare that my hearing fails me, but if you think I’m mistaken, by all means, take it up with your Zokrí.” He nodded toward Cazerel, who’d hunkered down beside Ember and her crawler and was gazing up at her in admiration.
The raug, facing a mortal slice to his core, growled deeply and stepped back. “Not all debts can be paid with one life. Try this again when we are alone, nightstalker.”
Corian lowered his hand, and the blade-like claw retracted with a silver flash. “If you and I are ever alone, it means we’ve already failed. Don’t hold your breath.”
He shot another warning glance at the warriors growling and muttering threats in French and the occasional O’gúleesh curse before turning his back on them. One of the raugs spat in Corian’s direction, then flung the rest of his bar over the edge of the ridge where they’d stopped.
Cheyenne watched the nightstalker head toward Maleshi, and he sat down beside her to eat the meal he’d had to fetch for them on his own. The general’s nostrils flared as she chewed, but she finally looked up at him and gave him a brief smile. The only magical in their group who didn’t see the exchange between them, other than Cazerel, who was laughing heartily at something Ember said, was L’zar.
“Hey,” Lumil croaked. She swallowed heavily and nodded at the stationary carts. “Any more water in all that crap?”
“I’ll check.” Cheyenne headed toward the carts, eyeing the raug warriors the whole time. They’d gone back to talking in French and laughing at each other, casting spiteful glares at the nightstalkers. They ignored the halfling heading toward their supplies. It’s a problem with nightstalkers, then. Awesome.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cheyenne reached under the canvas, pulled out two full drinking gourds, and tossed one across the clearing to Lumil. The goblin woman caught it and guzzled half of it down with loud, slurping gulps. Cheyenne opened the other to wash down the worst of the energy bar’s aftertaste and approached the other cart.
Foltr still sat atop the heap of provisions, sucking the chewy gray meal out of his sharp teeth. A shouted punchline of some joke in French and the ensuing roar of raug laughter drowned out any other conversation around them. The old raug shook his head when Cheyenne offered him a drink. “If it’s not ale, Aranél, I’ll fall asleep up here.”
The halfling snorted and leaned against the cart so she could see everyone in the clearing at the same time. She took another long drink, stoppered the gourd, and tried not to stare at Maleshi and Corian. Lumil and Byrd started another fight over the other water gourd, and Cheyenne turned toward Foltr. “Is it just me, or are they getting careless all of a sudden?”
“The goblins have always been careless,” Foltr grumbled, “Someone should give them a good bash over the head. You can tell them it’s from me if you like.” He slid his staff toward her and dipped his head.
“You know that’s not who I’m talking about.”
“Yes. I know.” Taking a deep breath, the old raug picked energy-bar goo out of his teeth with a red claw. “For now, it’s none of our business.”
“You know who’ll make it his business if he catches on, right?” Cheyenne glanced at L’zar, who hadn’t moved an inch in his meditative posture.
“L’zar is busy plotting his own course, as always.” Foltr made it a point to look away from both the drow thief and the two nightstalkers sitting closer than normal to each other at the other end of the clearing. “No doubt another one of his plans to carry out when we find this nephew of his.”
“And when he’s done plotting?” Cheyenne dropped her elbows casually over the side of the cart behind her. “I’ve heard a lot of stuff lately about keeping things from L’zar. Don’t draw attention to it. Don’t wave anything under his nose. Leave him alone and don’t fight him when he starts acting like a lunatic. Nobody seems to be following their own advice, especially
