“You have high expectations for a lunatic,” Foltr spat. “Out with it.”
With a deep breath, L’zar held the old raug’s gaze and nodded. “My sister’s child is here, old one, secluded within the walls of Nor’ieth for his entire life. No word in or out of this place but for the few instances, like today, when travelers open the doorway and cross through. No knowledge of the outside world. Ever.”
Cheyenne blinked in realization. “He has no idea he’s the Crown’s son.”
L’zar whirled toward her and pointed at her with a sharp thrust of his finger. “No idea there even is a Crown. No idea that anything exists beyond this place. For those passing their days in Nor’ieth, there is no other place. This is all there is.”
Despite the six feet between her and her father, Cheyenne glanced at his finger and leaned away. He’s enjoying this way too much.
“How is this useful?” Corian turned in a slow circle, gazing intently at the empty valley, the empty buildings, and the empty courtyards of white stone between the rising pillars. “If Ba’rael sent her son away for no other reason than to keep him safe from you, L’zar, she sure as hell accomplished that.”
“Ah, but if she sent him away with the hope of someday calling him back home to join her?” L’zar said, chuckling wildly again. “To stand beside her against me? That makes this the Spider’s greatest mistake. She has no idea where he is, Corian. She has no idea her son has been raised at the source, making him useless to her as a bargaining chip.” He laughed. “She fucked up royally, didn’t she?”
No one else found his play on words nearly as amusing as he did.
Cheyenne shook her head and couldn’t keep watching her father’s ridiculous display. “She wouldn’t do that, would she? Use her own kid as leverage to stay in power.”
“Cheyenne,” Corian growled. “Ba’rael Verdys slit her own father’s throat to step into power and keep L’zar out of it. That drow would do anything to get what she wants. She already has.”
“And she thought she had the upper hand by secreting this child away, even from her own awareness.” L’zar clapped his hands together. “She thought she had a hidden ace up her sleeve, but the card’s not even in the deck!”
The halfling stepped away from her cackling father. “If he starts jumping up and down and squealing, I’m done.”
Corian grinned at her. “Ten seconds. If he doesn’t snap out of it, I’m happy to offer you the first shot.”
Cheyenne laughed and lifted a fist in preparation. “Deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Holding Corian’s gaze, Cheyenne counted silently to ten but never got the chance to punch her father out of his insane laughter. By the time she reached eight, L’zar’s sudden recovery and immediate silence made her turn to look at him again, and she forgot all about her impromptu pact with the nightstalker.
The valley was filled with luminous magicals heading toward the travelers in their midst. Cheyenne squinted against the glare of so many shimmering bodies growing brighter as the strangers approached.
She leaned toward Corian and whispered, “Who are they?”
He stared at the newcomers and shook his head. “I have no idea.”
A crack echoed across the valley, and the bright halos of light disappeared from around the magicals’ bodies. The closest one, a tall, startlingly thin magical with skin nearly as white as the stone around them, spread his arms after clapping his hands together and bowed a smooth, hairless head toward the travelers. “Welcome.”
His voice rang out in numerous tones at once, as if all the magicals surrounding L’zar and his rebels had spoken at the same time, although only the tall male’s mouth moved. A small smile split his pale lips. Blue eyes so light they were almost colorless flickered from face to face among the travelers.
Cheyenne couldn’t stop staring. He doesn’t even blink.
Byrd’s mouth fell open.
Beside him, Lumil opted for her usual jab in the goblin’s ribs, but it was a weak attempt without any real effort behind it.
Cazerel stepped toward the magical who’d addressed them all and bowed his head. “The first time for my companions, Yilas.”
The ridiculously tall, thin Yilas straightened from his bow and swept his gaze over the awestruck faces staring at him and his people. “We know.”
“A word, bright one. If it pleases you.”
Yilas tilted his pale, elongated head and gestured behind him. “Come then.”
Without another word for the rebels he’d led into Nor’ieth, Cazerel nodded and headed after the strange-looking magical.
Cheyenne watched the pair move off to have a private conversation, then she scanned the wide-eyed, softly smiling faces of the other strangers surrounding them. If I had no idea magic and Ambar’ogúl were a thing, I would’ve sworn these guys are aliens.
Corian ran a hand down the side of his face. “When he said the drow was with the olforím, I let it slide. Thought it was just an expression.”
“That’s what they are?” Cheyenne found it hard to look away from the slightly glowing magicals radiating thick magical energy despite no longer giving off the blinding light. When she did, she found the nightstalker looking as dumbstruck as she felt. “Olforím?”
“As much of a myth as Nor’ieth,” Maleshi added, her voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s seen them for…I’d say centuries, but it’s been longer than that. One of those races everyone assumed died out.”
“They didn’t.” L’zar grinned at the olforím. “They came here.”
Ember tried to direct the crawler away from the closest olforím, who was stepping slowly toward her. The machine rocked sideways, lurched in a spinning half-circle, and finally righted itself before stepping quickly back the way she wanted. “Cheyenne!”
“Yeah.” The halfling stepped toward her friend but couldn’t look away from the pale blue eyes and the long, thin features peeking out from beneath the olforím’s flowing robes.
Ember swallowed. “You can feel that, right?”
“All the magic?” Cheyenne stopped beside the crawler
