“Oh.” L’zar tilted his head at Cheyenne. “Your cousin has taken a certain interest, it seems.”
“Cousin.” Ba’rael’s son slowly tilted his head, eyeing Cheyenne again. His unsettling gaze made her eyes itch too.
“Yeah, but we didn’t come here to talk about me.” The halfling walked slowly toward them, frowning at the complete lack of reaction on her cousin’s face. Totally insane. There’s nothing there. “We’re here to talk about you. Or to you. About your home.”
The corners of the other drow’s mouth twitched. “You’re interested in Nor’ieth, then.”
She glanced at Corian and shrugged. “Not this home. Your first one.”
“We have only one existence. That is here. Cousin.”
“Yeesh.” Cheyenne grimaced at her father. “This isn’t going the way you expected, huh?”
“I need a little time, Cheyenne.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
L’zar shot her a warning glance, then stepped toward his nephew and placed a hand on the younger drow’s shoulder, meaning to guide him toward the temple for a quick chat. A burst of magical energy traveled up the drow thief’s arm at the contact, and his eyes widened. “Perhaps a good deal more time. But we have plenty of that, don’t we?”
His nephew didn’t budge, and L’zar removed his hand as if the other drow had threatened to remove it for him.
“Time belongs to itself, Weaver.”
“Oh, so you do know me.” The drow thief grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Chapter Forty-One
Ba’rael’s son appraised L’zar with a slow, unamused glance. “We know the seeds you’ve sown and failed to nurture. We know the threads you’ve woven from one end to the next. We do not know you.”
“Hmm. Few do.” L’zar clasped his hands behind his back again and dipped his head, still smiling and staring at his nephew like a starving dog staring at an untouched steak.
The same way he stared at me the first time. And the second. Not good. Cheyenne cleared her throat. “So, okay, look. Maybe you don’t have a name, but it’s weird calling you Lost One. Ever imagine yourself with a real name?”
“Neros.” The drow blinked as if he’d emerged from lifelong amnesia. “You can call us Neros.”
“Okay, that works. I’m Cheyenne. You picked up on the cousin part, so I’m pretty sure you can put those pieces together. The nightstalkers are Corian and Maleshi.”
“Cheyenne.” Her name whispered by Neros’ lips made her shiver.
“Yep. That’s me. And the grinning lunatic next to me is L’zar. My dad. Your mom’s brother.”
“You do not believe blood bonds with blood, Cheyenne. Why should we?”
She stared at Neros and leaned forward in surprise. “What did you say?”
“You heard us, bright one.”
“Bright?” Cheyenne snorted. “Okay, I don’t know what you’re seeing right now. Maybe all this shiny stone and, I don’t know, the altitude up here is making things look kinda funny, but I wouldn’t call me—”
“Cheyenne.” L’zar turned his head toward her but kept his golden eyes on his nephew.
“What?”
“Ask him if he’s seen his mother when he searches through the Weave.”
“You’re standing right here in front of him, L’zar. Ask him yourself.”
“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“I wouldn’t wanna talk to you either if you were asking me stupid questions.”
L’zar’s gaze flicked toward her. “Do it.”
“We hear everything, Weaver. And we have seen the drow of which you speak.” Neros’ washed-out gaze settled on his uncle’s face. “She is no concern of ours.”
“Really?” L’zar’s grin returned. “So you see Ba’rael Verdys in her last days on the O’gúl Crown, and you’re not concerned.”
“There is no reason for concern.”
“Ah. Even when the drow who created you and sent you here, however unknowingly, will fight Cheyenne to keep that throne?”
Neros blinked slowly. “She will not.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“This is ridiculous.” Cheyenne shook her head and turned around. “Two drow talking in circles around each other. My brain can’t handle it.”
“Let her go.” L’zar waved dismissively at his daughter. “If she wants to fill in the missing pieces on her own, Neros, that’s on her. I want to hear more about what you’ve seen.”
Neros took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and watched Cheyenne stalk across the plateau to put distance between them. “We have seen the pattern and the fray, Weaver. So have you. Everything turns, begins anew, and ends.”
“What about the Crown?”
“The Crown will be the Crown. It’s all the same.” Neros turned his body toward Cheyenne, who caught the movement from the corner of her eye and folded her arms, trying to ignore her cousin’s tingling stare. “We are all the same. Except for her.”
L’zar broke into a wide grin again. “There it is.”
Cheyenne turned back toward them. “Wait, what?”
“What do you see in my daughter, Neros?”
“Something different.” Neros tilted his head. “Half of her does not exist in this world.”
“No way.” Cheyenne eyed her cousin warily, then glanced at the nightstalkers. “He can’t know that. How?”
“How, indeed.” L’zar’s wide eyes flickered from Neros’ face to the silver cuff peeking out from beneath the sleeve of Cheyenne’s trenchcoat. “It seems Ur’syth’s trinket only works on eyes that don’t see through the Weave.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we have an excellent opportunity to look farther than I’ve ever imagined.” L’zar steepled his fingers and drummed them against each other. “Neros, I would very much appreciate your help in a certain matter. Or a few, now that I think about it.”
The light-skinned drow stared at Cheyenne without moving.
“I’ve been searching for a few things that would greatly aid my cause. Our cause, of course. Cheyenne shares it with me.”
She shook her head. “Don’t put words in my mouth, especially not after your little warning about your purpose, L’zar.”
“Whatever is said up here will remain between the five of us.” The drow thief spread his arms. “I’m not telling anyone to leave, and I have no problem letting you stay. If you still want to know, that is.”
“So, you’re finally gonna reveal your master plan, huh?”
L’zar reached toward his nephew’s face as if he meant to sweep the bone-white hair away from Neros’
