“Not without a band of raugs and that spell.”
“Which he refused to give us.” She grimaced. “Awesome.”
The magicals made their way down the gently sloping hillside toward the center of the valley. Cheyenne would have thought the place was empty if it weren’t for the squat buildings of white stone scattered around them, interspersed with huts made of white mud and straw. Huge columns of stone rose in an unrecognizable pattern across the valley, some of them supporting stone roofs without any walls. Around the central ring of buildings were massive statues carved in more white stone, O’gúleesh magicals in various poses of welcoming, warning, and suspended battle.
Looks like Ambar’ogúl’s version of ancient Greece.
Cheyenne looked at the closest statue as they passed it—a fae woman draped in flowing silk, one hand extended toward the sky as the other pointed straight at the place where the raug portal had spat them into the valley. “Who are these guys?”
L’zar snorted, though his golden eyes shimmered in delight as he looked everywhere but at the statues. “A bunch of dead O’gúleesh meant to remind the living of what’s better left forgotten. For most of them, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
When he turned toward his daughter, the eager, crazed grin had returned. “That this place exists.”
Ember drummed her fingers on the rim of the crawler’s body as it moved slowly one leg at a time. “I’m feeling out of place here in this thing.”
“No one will hold it against you, Healer.” Cazerel chuckled. “And when you no longer have need of a machine, you’ll forget all about it.”
“Uh-huh.”
Cheyenne glanced at the back of the crawler and her friend’s purple-streaked hair. She’s right, though—no other tech in this place. No metal. She reached up to touch the activator coil attached behind her ear to make sure it was there. I’m not picking up on anything. “Kinda feels like we went back in time.”
Corian slowly shook his head. “More like this plane has fallen behind. Or never changed with the times.”
That assessment felt like the truth. The stone buildings and the statues didn’t show signs of normal wear over the centuries. Nothing looked old, but none of it matched anything Cheyenne had seen on either of her visits to Ambar’ogúl. A different plane, all right. One that doesn’t even look like the same world.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled and the sharp, astringent taste of vinegar and some kind of fruit she couldn’t quite place settled on her tongue, tingling through the back of her throat until it bloomed up through her nose. She smacked her lips and snorted. “That’s funky.”
“That’s magic.” Maleshi fixed the halfling with her silver eyes and ran her tongue over her teeth. “Strong magic.”
Corian licked his lips and wrinkled his nose in discomfort. “Been a long time since I’ve felt the source like this, and it wasn’t anywhere near as strong.”
Cheyenne tried to rub the furious tingle out of her nose, blinking through the shimmer of tears the sensation had brought to her eyes. “I’m not a fan.”
Lumil stuck her tongue all the way out and grunted in disgust. “Tastes like someone pissed in the grog barrel.”
Byrd repeatedly wiped at his mouth. “How would you know?”
“Tell me I’m wrong, asshole. You can’t.”
L’zar stopped, blinked slowly, and burst into shrieking laughter.
The other magicals in their party, raugs included, turned to watch the drow thief fall deeper into madness. Cazerel’s orange eyes narrowed.
“L’zar.” Corian’s low voice was barely audible beneath the drow’s cackling.
“Ha!” L’zar slapped a hand on the nightstalker’s shoulder and shook it roughly as his golden eyes flickered across the valley. “Ba’rael’s son living out his life in Nor’ieth. This is way too good.”
Even as Corian and Maleshi turned disbelieving stares on the drow, L’zar fell into another fit of laughter. He slid his hand off Corian’s shoulder and shook his head, howling.
“Nor’ieth.” Maleshi frowned. “That’s a myth.”
Cheyenne turned away from her father’s explosive amusement and gazed at the other magicals. “While he’s battling his inability to make any sense, anyone wanna explain what the hell he’s talking about?”
“An origin story, kid.” Corian vigorously scratched the back of his head, trying to rid himself of the tingling itch of so much concentrated magic in one place. “Every world has its own. More than one on Earth. Only one here.”
“The source of magic,” Maleshi muttered. “Where everything begins and ends.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not about the story.” The general’s eyes twitched and watered slightly when she met Cheyenne’s gaze. “Whatever this place is, we can’t prove it’s Nor’ieth.”
“Oh, yes, we can.” L’zar’s laughter died to a soft chuckle and he grinned like a lunatic at the empty air around them. “I can see it.”
Cheyenne wiggled her lower jaw, trying to fight off the growing pressure in her ears. “Lemme guess. This is another one of your ‘reading the threads’ moments, huh?”
“Every moment is one of those moments. What idiot thought to hide the child here?”
Cazerel grinned at the drow thief and pounded a fist on his chest. “I did.”
The raug chief’s dark chuckle filled the air, then he and L’zar lost it all over again. Their booming laughter echoed across the valley in one obnoxious wave of amusement after another.
Cheyenne grimaced at them and shook her head. Apparently, insanity’s contagious.
Corian looked at them, his nostrils flaring. “I fail to see the humor.”
“You know the high regard in which I hold you, vae shra’ni.” L’zar burst out laughing again and tried to cut it short, waving a long, slender gray hand in front of his face. “But you fail to see a lot.”
Foltr shot an annoyed glance at the raug chief, then stepped toward L’zar and cracked the end of his staff against the drow thief’s ribs. It only made L’zar laugh harder, despite his attempt to flinch away from the blow. “Pull yourself together, Weaver. If you have an explanation, give it.”
The drow’s laughter simmered down to a chuckle, and L’zar wiped the corners of his
