The goblin woman raised both fists and summoned her spinning red runes. Her yellow eyes reflected the bursts in orange-tinted light. “But what a dent, huh? Wanna know how I got these babies to work so well?”
“Not really.” Cheyenne shot Ember a sidelong glance. The fae girl stifled a laugh. “But I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“Just one big badass spell, kid.”
Byrd guffawed and doubled over. Lumil stared at him, and when he looked up and saw her fists inches from his face, he choked back the rest of his laughter and leaped away.
Cazerel turned away from his warriors with a curious grin. “Is this true, Aranél?”
“Is what true?” Cheyenne tried to look clueless. I don’t need the raug who thinks his gates are all-powerful to start making fun of me too.
“That you cannot cast spells?”
Lumil folded her arms and nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“No,” Cheyenne said, shooting the goblin woman a warning glance. “I can cast spells, no problem. They just don’t always work the way I want.”
Corian chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“All right. Don’t you raugs have a door to open or something?”
Ember grinned at the chief, momentarily brushing aside Cheyenne’s warning about him. “Even if she had better luck with spellcasting, she doesn’t need it. When she’s got an activator, Cheyenne Summerlin’s unstoppable. On both sides of the Border.”
“Ah.” Cazerel stroked his square, hairless chin, then chuckled and pointed at Cheyenne. “Perhaps there are exceptions to my personal rules for the appropriate use of tech, eh? I believe it would be best for the Aranél to wear hers at all times.”
The goblins cracked up again and quickly got into another shoving match.
“Thanks for the advice.” Cheyenne folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at the raug chief. “But I’ve been doing fine with nothing but drow magic. So far, that’s all I need.”
Cazerel shrugged and stuck out his huge bottom lip. “Until it isn’t.”
As he turned away to rejoin his warriors and Foltr in setting up for their spell, Ember met Cheyenne’s gaze and burst out laughing. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just…”
“You’re enjoying this as much as everyone else, aren’t you?”
Ember tried to hold back her laughter, and a squeak of effort escaped her.
Maleshi stepped up beside the halfling and leaned toward Cheyenne’s ear. “If you’re going to take the Crown’s place when you turn the new Cycle, kid, spellwork is kinda one of the prerequisites.”
“Well, good thing I’m not planning on taking anyone’s place.”
“Haven’t changed your mind about that after everything we’ve seen, huh?”
Cheyenne folded her arms. “I’m not the only one capable of sitting on some dumb throne and keeping things running.”
“True.” Maleshi shrugged. “But so far, the only name drawn from the proverbial hat is yours.”
“I’ll find someone.”
“Sure. Finding someone else and offering the job is the easy part. It’s finding someone who gives a shit and won’t run away screaming that’s gonna be a little tricky.”
Cheyenne shot the general a sidelong glance and scoffed. “Thanks. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It took Cazerel, his warriors, and Foltr nearly half an hour to set up for their spell, complete with finding a perfectly sized stick for drawing runes in the dirt and weighing out the required amount of crumbled bits of stone they’d packed in one of the carts.
After gnawing impatiently on the inside of his cheek, Corian stepped forward and nodded at the chief. “Is there anything we can do to help, Zokrí? Merely in the interests of time, of course.”
“No, vae shra’ni.” Cazerel straightened from where he’d bent over to toss a handful of the glittering black rock pieces onto a rune in the dirt. “I prefer to keep the casting of this one fueled by raug magic. You understand?”
Cheyenne cocked her head at the runes and squinted. “Only those who created the doorway and hid the Crown’s secret kid can open it again?”
“We did not create this doorway, Aranél.”
She looked quickly up at him and found him smirking at her. “Oh.”
“But we are the only ones on this side of it who know the Spider’s heir lies beyond.” The chief slowly tilted his head, his smile disappearing as he held Cheyenne’s gaze. “I prefer not to hand my clan’s secrets over to every curious magical. Especially her.” He nodded at Maleshi and narrowed his eyes.
The general glanced at the sky in exasperation and turned her back to the raugs gathered to create the spell. She spread her arms and stared back in the direction they’d come. “I’ll wait.”
With a low growl of approval, Cazerel rejoined his warriors, speaking French to them in low tones.
“Great.” Cheyenne approached Corian. The nightstalker folded his arms and watched the raugs, slowly shaking his head. “I thought he said the general’s debts had been wiped clean?”
“Debts, sure.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean they have to be best friends.”
“We’re all working toward the bigger picture though, right? Not that hard to let go of a grudge if it helps get the job done.”
Corian turned slowly to look at her and raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?”
“Hey, what Maleshi did thousands of years ago and whatever daddy issues I have with L’zar are not the same thing.”
“Of course not. But we’ve all had thousands of years to do things we regret, make mistakes, and condemn ourselves with the reputations we built serving under the Crown’s ever-watchful gaze.”
She snorted. “Speak for yourself.”
“I am, kid. And for everyone else, minus you and Ember. Obviously.” Corian shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, watching the group of raugs finally get down to the spellcasting. “It’s hard to let go of that much history in one day, especially when raug memory stretches almost as long as drow memory and extends way before drow rule.”
“That’s not an excuse to…wait. Before drow rule?”
“That was what I said.”
“Well, let’s stay on that topic for a second, huh? ‘Cause I’m hearing
