“Seriously?” Cheyenne snorted. “Those raugs over there have been holding a grudge against Maleshi for centuries, and you’re telling me nobody cared about the drow conquerors staying in power?”
“You’re comparing a personal slight with a world-wide shift, kid. Not the same.” Corian wiped another smile off his face and nodded. “The past Crowns generally leaned toward letting what used to be the other sovereign kingdoms run things however they wanted, just as separate territories instead.”
“Generally.” L’zar scoffed. “Until Ba’rael the Spider.”
Cheyenne shot him an exasperated look. “Then everything went to shit.”
“Obviously.”
“So that’s what I need to do.” A small smile flickered at the corners of the halfling’s mouth. “Abdicate to someone who isn’t a drow and make sure this doesn’t happen again. Break the cycle and turn a new Cycle with someone else.”
“If that’s still your decision when we get to that point, then yeah.” Corian nodded. “But I’d strongly recommend putting it up for a vote among the Four-Pointed Star at the very least. Putting someone on the throne to wash your hands clean is one thing. Putting the right magical on the throne takes a bit more finesse.”
“What makes someone else the right magical? ‘Cause I’m clearly not.”
L’zar clicked his tongue. “I disagree. Of course, that’s my personal opinion.”
“Yeah, you have a lot of those.”
“The right magical for the job is someone who can hold their own, Cheyenne.” The nightstalker raised a fist between them. “In a fight. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now how important that is to O’gúleesh everywhere, no matter where they come from or what they’ve been doing for the last few thousand years.”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Goes without saying.”
“Almost. Anyone who can stand against a challenge from their seat in Hangivol will make the magicals in this world fairly happy. For a few hundred years at least, give or take. If it’s not a drow, maybe that’s even better. But if some power-hungry O’gúleesh gets it in their head that the next Crown isn’t strong enough to face a challenge—and there will be challenges—we could end up with another new Crown who forced their way onto the throne through violence, instead of someone who stood up because they wanted to serve Ambar’ogúl, not themselves.”
With a frown, the halfling nodded. “Then we’re right back where we started.” She turned to look at Maleshi, who prowled back and forth behind Lumil and Byrd. All three of them stared at the growing raug spell.
L’zar laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“What?” Cheyenne peered at him. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It’s written all over your face, kid.” Corian glanced at the sky and shook his head. “The general returned to help us tear Ba’rael off the throne, and hopefully, she’ll stay to help us clean up this mess the Crown left behind, but she’s done too much as Hand of the Night and Circle to get more than half the magicals’ support. The other half would despise her as much as they despise Ba’rael, if not more.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m fairly certain.” Corian raised an eyebrow. “Feel free to make her an official offer, but you’d be wasting your time.”
Cheyenne studied his amused expression and jerked her chin at him. “What about you, then?”
“Nice try.” He nodded at L’zar beside him. “You know I’m tied to the Weaver. Wherever he goes, I go, and once he steps foot across the Border again, he’s never coming back here.”
L’zar snorted. “A day that can’t come soon enough.”
“Fine. Then I’m working with narrowed options, aren’t I?” Cheyenne folded her arms and gazed blankly at the empty air between Corian and L’zar. Minus the physical ability to fight, Bianca Summerlin would make the best Crown this world has ever seen. But she’d strangle me before stepping foot in this place. The thought made her hiss a brief laugh, then she looked at Corian again.
His silver eyes flashed. “If you want advice on how to choose your replacement, kid, we can sit down and hash that out later.”
“Later better be soon, right? I have less than two weeks to find someone who wants this enough to take it.”
“Or you’ll be stuck here, ruling Ambar’ogúl on your own until you do find someone else.” L’zar widened his eyes, his head wobbling as he fought back a laugh. “That’ll be a lot harder to do with all the extra responsibilitiesresting squarely on your shoulders.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t spend your energy worrying about that until it comes to pass, which I’m confident it won’t.”
Corian shot L’zar a sidelong glance, and his brow darkened with a concerned frown. “Cheyenne, you have to keep in mind that any of this is only possible if the Crown accepts your terms.”
“She will.” L’zar tossed a dismissive hand toward his Nós Aní. “When I’m finished putting those terms together for you to offer her on a silver fucking platter, Cheyenne, she won’t have a choice.”
“Not true.” Corian scowled at the drow thief. “And you know it.”
“She could still choose to fight me, right?” Cheyenne glanced at them. “If she refuses the terms?”
“Yes, and we need to avoid that possibility at all costs.”
“Why?” The halfling tilted her head. “You don’t think I can take her?”
Corian chuckled wryly. “Do you?”
“Your spellwork is atrocious, Cheyenne.” L’zar smiled and nodded like he was congratulating her instead of calling out her faults. “That needs to change.”
“Sure. Any takers on a mentor for that?”
Both the drow thief and his nightstalker Nós Aní looked away from her. Corian’s lips twitched in and out of a smile. “Maybe you should go to your first mentor for that one. She did, after all, pen the most user-friendly spellbook I’ve ever seen.”
Cheyenne glanced at Maleshi again. “She gave me that stack of spells and told me to go home and figure it out on my own time.”
“Mattie Bergmann told you that. I think Maleshi Hi’et will have a different answer.”
“Great.” Cheyenne studied the general’s slow pacing, which was clearly fueled by an anxious urgency to get to their
