“We will not.”
L’zar gave a surprised laugh and shook his head. “Pardon?”
“We wish to speak to Cheyenne. Alone. Now.”
“After that?”
“You may leave.”
L’zar’s eye twitched as he stared at his nephew’s profile. “That’s not an option.”
“L’zar.” Corian stepped toward him, gazing at the drow thief and his nephew. “This obviously isn’t the right time.”
“It is exactly the right time!” L’zar’s shout echoed down the mountainside and sent a handful of small rocks plummeting down to the valley below.
No one else said a word, but all eyes except Neros’ were fixed uncertainly on the drow thief. Neros didn’t look away from Cheyenne.
With a deep breath, L’zar smoothed his hair away from his face, and his smile returned. “I have made the time, Neros. The least you can do is give me the same courtesy.”
“Only Cheyenne.”
The drow thief’s eyes blazed with gold light, his mad grin fracturing into a furious snarl as his head trembled.
Corian moved toward him. “We’ll give them a moment, and then we’ll try again.”
“No. Cheyenne knows nothing about the order of things, and I will have the answers I came for. Look at me!” L’zar’s hand came down on Neros’ shoulder again.
The light-skinned drow moved faster than any of them could see. His pale hand flicked toward L’zar with a flash of blinding white light. The concentrated magic pummeled the drow thief in the chest and sent him flying across the plateau. Corian and Maleshi were caught up in the same wave, and all three magicals hurtled over the side of the mountain with the crack of splitting stone and the ensuing rumble of debris tumbling to the valley floor.
“Hey!” Cheyenne darted toward the plateau’s edge and peered over the side.
Corian and Maleshi were sliding down the mountainside on all fours, and they succeeded in bracing themselves and slowing to a stop. L’zar picked himself up off the footpath where he’d landed, a tangle of dry weeds and dead grass knotted in his hair, and snarled up at her. “I’m gonna kill him!”
“Oh, boy.” Cheyenne turned back to Neros. “There’s a good chance he meant that, at least until something changes his mind. Be ready when he gets back up here.” She glanced at her cousin’s pale hand hanging by his side and shrugged. “Not like you can’t take care of yourself, obviously.”
“He will not return until we allow it.”
“What?” She laughed in disbelief and shook her head. “I know you guys just met, but believe me, if a prison built specifically for magicals couldn’t hold him, I don’t think—”
A loud thump cut her off, followed by L’zar’s enraged roar from halfway down the mountain.
Cheyenne peered over the side again, and her mouth dropped open. “No shit.”
L’zar stood on the other side of a shimmering wall of light, ignoring the blood pouring from his nose. He snarled and hissed, pounding the magical barrier to no effect. “Cheyenne! Tell him to take it down! Now!”
She stared at her father and slowly backed away from the edge of the plateau.
“No. Cheyenne! Don’t you dare!” Another furious bellow escaped him, and he shot a useless burst of purple drow magic at the shimmering wall of light. It bounced back off and narrowly missed Corian’s shoulder as it soared toward the other side of the valley. “Cheyenne!”
Neros snapped his fingers, and the top of the mountain quieted. Even the thin whistle of the wind through the temple of white stone was silenced, and Cheyenne found herself smiling when she turned around to face her cousin. “You know, it was starting to sink in that I’ve got some pretty big, bloody, not exactly comfortable drow shoes to fill after all this, but I think L’zar Verdys finally met his match. And it’s not me.”
“You looked pleased.”
“Well,” she said, chuckling, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t satisfying.” Just to watch someone else hit that drow with his own medicine and finally shut him up. Folding her arms, Cheyenne studied the empty plateau and the pristinely kept temple in the center. “You know he’s gonna try again, right? He won’t take no for an answer, so he’ll keep beating the problem until it finally gives up. That’s what he does.”
“The Weaver is no concern of ours either, cousin.” Neros’ mouth flickered into a small smile, and he spread his arm to gesture at the temple. “Come sit with us. We have questions for you.”
“Oh.” Cheyenne spared the edge of the mountaintop a fleeting glance, then slowly made her way toward the light-skinned drow staring at her with wide eyes. “Any chance you could drop the talking in the second person? It’s a little weird.”
“It makes you uncomfortable.”
“Well, there are varying degrees of discomfort.” She shrugged. “You know what? Never mind. I’m the last person who should be trying to change anybody else just ‘cause they’re a little different. You talk about yourself however you want.”
When she reached Neros’ extended arm, he lowered it and turned with her toward the temple. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Wait. It’s just the way you talk, right? Like there isn’t more than one of you in there?”
For the first time, her cousin’s mouth drew up farther than a tiny jerk, and he favored her with a full, amused smile. “That does not have one answer, but I will try to explain.”
“That’s a good start, I guess. I’ll take it.” Trying not to shy away from the growing tingle of strong magic around her and the returning tang of vinegar and berries in her mouth, Cheyenne stepped onto the temple floor with her cousin raised by olforím and sat when he gestured for her to sit.
The drow no one knows about has more power in his finger than L’zar and I put together. Would that still be the case if he came with
