The Drow There and Nothing More (Goth Drow Book 3)

drow trick.”
A paper wrapper crinkled loudly in the warehouse, and Cheyenne looked up to see Corian sitting at the corner of Persh’al’s table, another of his damn sandwiches raised toward his open mouth. He paused to give her a shrug, then buried his teeth in his mid-morning lunch.
“Nightstalkers are the only magicals who can open portals like he does, aren’t they?”
“Inherently, yes.” L’zar extended his open palm toward her. “But not for someone who has one of these.”
I bet that’s how all those skaxen loyalists summoned the portals they thought they could drag me through.
“Okay, so what do I have to do?”
L’zar’s thin smile twitched. “The same thing I’m about to do.” He switched the nalís into his opposite fist, then held his other palm toward her. “Hold my hand.”
“Seriously?”
“Don’t be a child.”
“But hold your hand like a child?”
The drow took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring as he stared Cheyenne down. “I’ll wait.”
She glanced at the ceiling and slapped her hand into L’zar’s. A flare of the warm, tingling magic she’d felt when he’d healed the black-magic sores in her shoulder raced up her arm and across her back. The halfling stared at her pale hand, clenched in his slate-gray fingers.
L’zar’s eyes widened. “There it is.” After another deep breath, he closed his other hand around the nalís and muttered, “Abdur orzj.”
The tingling warmth of their magic buzzed between them again, and he turned toward her to offer the nalís. His grip on her fingers didn’t budge.
Cheyenne opened her hand to accept the cold, surprisingly heavy metal of the nalís pin. She swallowed and stared at the thing. He’s gonna cut off my circulation with that grip.
“Your turn.”
She shot him a playful grimace. “Sorry. What am I supposed to do?”
“Say the incantation.”
“Um.”
At Persh’al’s table, Corian snorted and shook his head, chewing fervently.
“Can you say that one more time?”
L’zar closed his eyes, fighting to maintain his composure. The pressure of his fingers around her hand increased slightly, and the halfling almost laughed through the pain. Good. Something needs to get under his skin.
“Abdur orzj,” he muttered.
“Right. Got it.” She curled her fingers around the nalís and blew air out through loose lips. “Abdur orzj.”
Though he tried to hide it, she caught the quick, precise movements of his free right hand casting some other spell beside his thigh.
“Should I be doing that too?” she asked. “Because, to be honest, the hand gestures pretty much elude me.”
L’zar looked at her in surprise. Corian chuckled and bit into his sandwich again. Persh’al spun around in his office chair and folded his arms to watch the show.
With a grunt, the drow released his daughter’s hand, his jaw working beneath his slate-gray skin. “Do you enjoy being this irritating?”
Cheyenne grinned. “That’s a family trait, isn’t it?”
“Ha!” Persh’al’s chair lurched forward with the force of his laughter, then he quickly spun back around and started furiously typing on his keyboard.
Corian licked his lips and set the second half of his sandwich back on the wrapper with a crinkling thump. When he wiped his mouth with a hand, Cheyenne was sure it was also meant to wipe off a smile.
“That’ll work now.” L’zar stood from the couch and headed quickly across the warehouse toward the private office at the opposite end.
“So, no finger spells?”
“No.” Before he got halfway across the room, Cheyenne’s phone buzzed again in her pocket.
She took it out and closed her eyes when she recognized Sir’s number. Again?
“Are you going to answer that?” L’zar drawled.
“I don’t want to.” The halfling declined the call and shoved the phone back into her pocket. “Not while I’m in the same room with any of you, honestly.”
“Not offended at all,” Persh’al added with a chuckle.
“Who was it?”
Cheyenne looked at L’zar, all traces of his irritation wiped away by insatiable curiosity. “The FRoE official who’s gonna give himself an aneurism yelling at me about why you left Chateau D’rahl.”
“Well.” The corner of the drow’s mouth twitched upward. “Don’t keep him waiting too long. You can keep playing the clueless token half-drow for a bit longer with those idiots. We don’t want them getting in the way of what we’re trying to do. Just don’t tell them where I am.” He winked at her, then spun again and marched toward one of the back offices before disappearing inside.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I needed a friendly reminder about that one.” Cheyenne shook her head and stood from the couch, holding the apparently activated nalís in her open palm. “How does this thing work?”
“You’ve seen Star Trek, right?” The nightstalker laughed when she answered with a deadpan stare. “Stick it on your jacket or shirt or wherever. If you need him, just tap it and say his name. Thinking it will work too. The nalís won’t keep you hidden like the pendant did, so expect a little more action. Only use it if you really have to.”
“Great advice.” Cheyenne pinned the nalís to the hem of her maroon shirt and shrugged. “Here I was, thinking how great it would be to summon L’zar through a portal just for fun.”
“All right.” Corian slid the open Cuil Aní with the marandúr into her backpack and handed it to her by the straps. “Go do what you have to do. We’ll reach out when we’ve come up with the next steps, yeah?”
“Sure. Assuming the FRoE doesn’t lock me up first, just for being his kid.”
“They won’t.” Corian smiled as she took the pack from him, then cast a new portal behind her. “They need you too much.”
“True. Honestly, I’m amazed they realize that.” Cheyenne turned halfway toward the portal and nodded at Persh’al. “See ya.”
“Later, drow.” The blue troll lifted a hand in farewell before turning back to his computer.
“Are the goblins still outside?”
Corian glanced at the warehouse’s back door and shrugged. “We made a new rule. If they bitch at each other for longer than a minute, they gotta take it outside.”
“Good rule. See ya.”
* * *
The nightstalker nodded, and Cheyenne stepped through