She waited for a moment longer beneath Neros’ intent gaze as he sat directly opposite her, then looked down into her lap and took a deep breath. “You ever wonder about leaving this place? Getting out into the rest of the world instead of being stuck here for however long it’s been?”
“Four hundred years. That is what they tell us.” He chuckled. “What they tell me.”
“Right. Long time.” Cheyenne leaned away a little when her cousin leaned toward her. Not long enough to learn about personal space, apparently. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“I want your answers first, Cheyenne. Then I will give you mine.”
“Okay.” She spread her arms and tried to smile at him, but the closeness of his intense magic made her face feel tight and not quite there at all. “Ask away.”
Chapter Forty-Two
On the side of the mountain, L’zar roared again and pounded his fists against the shimmering wall of Neros’ spell. “No. I won’t be thrown out like that and forced to wait while they— Cheyenne! Undo this. Do you hear me?”
“The whole valley can hear you.” Corian sat cross-legged on the footpath and studied the wall of light. “Apparently, you’re being ignored.”
“Not when I don’t agree to it,” L’zar snarled.
“That’s part of being ignored.”
“No one asked for your useless commentary, vae shra’ni.” The drow stalked along the path and let off another burst of purple fire. It crackled against the shield and again ricocheted off.
Corian leaned sideways and snatched the violet flames with a silver-glowing hand. He closed his fists around L’zar’s magic and dampened it, then he flicked the transformed metal star with four points into the air and caught it again. “We have two choices.”
L’zar slammed a fist into the magical wall. “Shut up.”
“We can sit here and spend the rest of our energy fighting a spell like that, which doesn’t seem to have any weak points.”
“Everything has a weak point.”
“Or we can allow what’s happening up there to unfold and go over the details with Cheyenne later.”
“No. Cheyenne is not prepared to handle something this delicate on her own.”
“Of course.” Maleshi, who stood in front of the closest switchback, nodded. “The Cu’ón is far better trained in the art of delicacy.”
He hissed at her and turned away again to pace back along the trail. “I don’t even know why you came with us, General.”
“Would it surprise you to hear I enjoy the company?”
Corian snorted and immediately wiped the smile from his face when L’zar spun again.
“Not my company.” The drow looked at the nightstalkers. “No one enjoys that.”
“I know you’re speaking from personal experience, L’zar, but I’ll say the same thing your daughter told you.” Maleshi’s silver eyes glowed, reflecting the shimmering white wall. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“And don’t think I don’t see what’s going on here.” L’zar sneered at Corian. “You two have found an awful lot of free time lately, haven’t you?”
Corian cocked his head and fixed the drow with an unwavering gaze. “We’re back in Ambar’ogúl, L’zar. You knew the risks associated with your return.”
“Those were risks I counted on, vae shra’ni. If I’d known the risks of letting two feral vaga enter the same room, I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“That’s going too far.” Corian remained seated on the path, though he straightened from where he’d hunched over his crossed legs. “We’ve already spent more time on this side than either of us expected. You and Cheyenne have come to a deeper understanding of each other in the last few days, which I can honestly say I didn’t expect either. But it’s starting to show.”
“Ha.” L’zar’s hands formed open claws, and his low growl rose into another furious roar. “My own daughter. The mórúcare everyone else—”
“Careful.” Maleshi clenched her jaw, her nostrils flaring. “If you want her to continue on this path, I’d avoid the Crown’s name for her.”
“I’ll call her whatever I want. She’s my daughter.”
“And our last hope for finishing this Cycle now, before things get any more complicated.”
L’zar glared at the general and wagged a long slate-gray finger at her. “You’ve grown too bold on your return, Hi’et. No one restored your rank. Don’t forget who made it possible for you to step foot in Hangivol without having your furry head ripped right off your flea-ridden shoulders.”
Maleshi rolled her eyes and gazed at the valley.
Corian watched the drow stalk back and forth. “You still haven’t had enough time to recover from the Weave.”
L’zar lifted a clawed hand again like he meant to rip something out of the air in front of him. “That bane of my existence has nothing to do with this.”
“There’s no use arguing with him, vae shra’ni.” Maleshi shrugged. “Might as well let him burn himself out.”
“What do you know of burning, Hi’et?” L’zar hissed at her. “Beyond what brought you back to my Nós Aní’s side?”
“That’s enough.” Corian stood and stepped between L’zar and Maleshi, blocking the drow from storming toward the general. “Tell me what you meant to do up there with Neros.”
L’zar snarled and stared into the nightstalker’s glowing eyes.
“We still have twelve days, brother.” Corian leaned sideways to cut the drow off when L’zar tried to sneak past him. “That’s plenty of time for Cheyenne to coax whatever information you need from your nephew.”
“I don’t want his information. I want his eyes.”
“His eyes.”
L’zar hissed and whirled away from the nightstalker, opting to pace the other half the trail instead.
“L’zar, I can’t do anything for you if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”
“You don’t need to know anything.”
“But it will help.” Corian said, “Let me help you carry it. You’ve shared every single step up to this point with me—everything since the beginning. I don’t know what you think has changed, but I stand by my vow and the binding. You know that.”
“Yes. You’re bound to me no matter what I do or don’t tell you.” L’zar stormed toward the nightstalker again and thrust a finger at Corian. “I should have
