Ever After th-11

by Kim Harrison

  “Down!” Quen said, his hand on my shoulder, and we flattened as Ku’Sox buzzed us again. I think he was enjoying himself, but he wheeled sharply, landing twenty feet away, wings outstretched and bill snapping loudly.

  “You can do it,” Quen said. “If we’re sharing mental space, you can carry me. You know the signature. You just dumped the imbalance there. Even if Ku’Sox follows us, the gargoyles will help.”

  Perhaps long enough for me to sit on him and make him take the slaver ring off. Beyond him, Ku’Sox snapped his beak and strode forward. I nodded—burning to death in the lines was better than being eaten.

  “Keep him off us,” I said as he took my hands and nodded. “And try not to hog the line!” I shouted, feeling it strengthen around me.

  Ku’Sox hesitated, head cocked as I tapped the line and my hair started to float. Letting out a murderous caw, he began to run, guessing our intent.

  “Now!” Quen shouted, and I bubbled us, shifting the hue and sound of it to that of the line ten feet away. I knew it by heart now, and it was easy.

  I heard Ku’Sox scream in defeat as the beauty of the line took us, and the swirling warmth of the line washed the ugliness of the grove away. Everything went silver in my mind. Quen snapped a bubble around his thoughts, making me wonder how often he’d traveled the lines before.

  Home, I thought, recalling the harsh jangle of the chaos I’d made of the line in the garden. It was a mass of orange, blue, black, and red, and though I could see it in my mind, I couldn’t shift the resonance.

  Home! I thought again, starting to panic. The damn slavery ring was interfering. Quen, help me tune the bubble to match my aura! I cried out, but he couldn’t hear me, and I couldn’t leave him there.

  Quen! I tried again, and a cool/warm thought slid into mine with the bright sparkle of butterfly wings.

  Got you! came Bis’s cheerful thought, and with a shimmer, Quen’s and my auras flashed to a strident purple.

  I was real. Stumbling, I sucked in a huge gulp of air, shocked when my boots skittered across electric-light-lit tile, not the starlit red slab of cement I was aiming for. I looked up, hearing a groan as Quen hit the floor behind me a second later.

  My face became cold, and Trent turned, his rolling chair making a clicking sound as he cocked his head at my battle-dirty clothes and tangled hair.

  “This isn’t my garden,” I whispered, and Trent’s smile chilled me to my core.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Trent stood, a hard eagerness obvious on his blond-stubbled, tired-looking face. Fear slid through me, and I hid my hand with the ring behind me. Quen could give him the master ring and, with it, me. Trent would be the most powerful elf in generations. He could save his people. Why would he ever take it off?

  “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Trent said as he swooped to us, his lab coat billowing behind him.

  “The deadline was moved,” Quen said. “Sa’han, you were right. This isn’t working.”

  “Obviously. If it was, you wouldn’t be here.”

  He was reaching for me, and I pulled away, standing before he could help me.

  “I got you!” Bis almost sang, and my heart sank. We had left Etude alone with that monster. “I snagged you. Right. Out. Of. The. Line!” he crowed, his wings spread and his red eyes sparkling in the fluorescent light. “I’m go-o-od. I’m go-o-od. I’m so bad I’m go-o-od,” he sang, doing one of Jenks’s hip wiggles, his tail curved over his head and wings spread wide.

  I had just left Etude there, and I fought with the desire to go back. Beyond the thick plate glass, the babies slept, the light dim and making the glass somewhat reflective. Trent was gesturing sharply as he and Quen talked in hushed whispers, and I didn’t like the chagrined expression that Quen was now wearing. Al was right. I was a fool.

  My hands were shaking, and I leaned against a counter, wondering if I was going to throw up. Ku’Sox would figure out where we’d gone eventually. The slaver glinted on my finger, and I wanted it off. “Thanks, Bis,” I said when the adolescent gargoyle finished his well-deserved “happy dance” and dropped to the counter, his claws scraping. His smile was wide, and I didn’t know how I was going to tell him about his dad. Taking a breath, I whispered, “Your dad is a wonder.”

  Bis’s ears pricked, and the hair on the end of his tail stood straight up. “You saw him?”

  I nodded. “He came to the church, then helped keep Ku’Sox off us at the castle. We left him there, but Ku’Sox was after us, not him. I think he’ll be okay.” God, please let him be okay. A baby was crying, and I turned to the nursery windows. The woman was furtively weaving her way to the cradle—as if she’d be punished. “Bis, start jumping the babies and women out of here.” I was down to salvage, but I knew getting their children back would mean the end of a nightmare for a handful of families. At least, until their children started doing demon magic, hosts to Ku’Sox’s favorites.

  Bis took to the air in little hops. “You bet. Where do you want them? Trent’s place?”

  I was going to say the church, but if Bis knew the line in Trent’s office . . .

  “My office?” Trent exclaimed, and I pushed myself up from the counter, angry. His hands were in the pockets of his lab coat. Quen’s were behind his back. I didn’t know who had the ring, and suddenly it was really important.

  “The church’s garden is full of pained gargoyles right now,” I said as Bis crawled on the ceiling into the nursery. Oh God, what if Ku’Sox was there now? Looking for us? “I want the ring off, and I want it off now.” Neither one of them said anything, and I stiffened. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, of course,” Trent said, but neither one of them was moving. “Can it wait until we get out of here? Apparently you and Quen working together is the only way you survived this long. It would be foolish to halve our strength until we are sure we can afford it.”

  “Survived!” I blurted. “That’s the word for it. This isn’t working! We need to go!”

  Trent jerked into motion, rolling his chair across the lab to a bank of cabinets. Maybe I should just cut my finger off. I didn’t really need ten fingers, did I? Trent got along okay with less than that. “I’m not leaving until the infants are gone,” Trent said, rummaging in a drawer. “And until they are, the rings stay on.” His gaze went to the blood seeping from the scratch Ku’Sox had given me, and I tugged the torn fabric to cover it.

  I glared at Quen, feeling betrayed. “Soon as they’re out of here, the ring comes off.” But neither one of them said anything, and I headed for Trent, hands clenched. “And then it comes off!” I said again. “I am not going to be your battery to try to kill Ku’Sox. Understand?”

  “Yes, of course.” Glancing at Bis, Trent stood, his hands full of bandages and ointment he’d taken from the drawer. “Sit, you’re injured.”

  “My arm is fine!” I said, glancing behind me to see only seven, then six babies left. Trent had dropped his head, and then it hit me. I wasn’t the only slave here. “How much can you do?” I asked Trent, and his lips twitched. “I mean, are you like his slave slave, or do you still have free will?”

  Trent glanced at Quen. “Ah, as long as Ku’Sox isn’t paying me any attention, I have my will. And when he makes one mistake, he’s going to die.”

  He was looking at my hand, and suddenly my warning flags tripped. Ashen, I hid my hands and looked between Quen and Trent. There hadn’t been enough time in that hushed conversation for Quen to bring Trent all the way up to speed. “You knew I reinvoked the slavers,” I said, and Trent seemed to freeze. “How? Did you have Quen pull Riffletic’s rings to force me to reinvoke these . . . slave rings! So you could use me to kill Ku’Sox?”

  Quen’s eye twitched, and Trent reached for me. “No, well, fight maybe,” he said, his eyes pleading. “You’ve got it backward, but they’re the only way to even hope to make a strong enough bond between demon and elf. I was afraid if I told you, you would have said no.”

  “I put this on
because I trusted you! And you forced this decision on me?” I jerked away from Quen. My hand was in a fist, slaver gold glinting between my knuckles. You tricky little bastards, what have you done? I thought, glaring at Quen, then shifted my eyes to the glass behind him. It was shining with a red, rosy glow.

  Suddenly the room flashed white, a muffled explosion making the glass tremble. I gasped, falling to my knees when it cracked. Trent went for the floor as Quen spun. A boom of sound shook the air, and the glass shattered inward.

  Quen was flung back, arms flailing as he hit the tile a second before the safety glass pattered down on him. Crouched and head covered, I was struck by shards. Babies were crying, at least three, maybe more.

  “Where are you taking them, you little swamp rat!” Ku’Sox shouted, and I felt a tug as Bis popped another baby to safety. Ku’Sox didn’t know Quen and I were here, and my heart pounded. Shit. Who had the ring? Trent or Quen? Ku’Sox owned Trent. Would he own me by default too?

  Quen shifted, and glass slid from him. The faint tinkling went unnoticed as Ku’Sox shouted at Bis. Thumps and pops were coming in through the broken window, and I peeked over the shattered edge of the window frame. Bis was swooping madly, his face alight and his sparse hair bristled. He was enjoying himself, but I was scared to death for him.

  “Hey!” I shouted, standing up, and Ku’Sox spun, the demon actually looking surprised for one—blessed—moment.

  Black teeth showing in a grin, Bis used the distraction to pop another baby to safety.

  Ku’Sox glanced at the gargoyle, then back to me. Looking grim, he walked toward us, snatching a wailing infant from his crib by his leg, his blue blanket falling to the floor. “I don’t know if you are incredibly stupid or incredibly clever,” he said, carelessly dangling the screaming baby upside down. “Are you seeking a way to implicate me in your . . . foolhardy attempt to destroy the ever-after, or just really, really stupid?”

  “I’d go for incredibly clever,” I said, then yanked on the line as his free hand clenched, turning a violent black before he threw a curse at me.

  “Now!” Trent shouted, and I felt a twin tug on the line as both Quen and Trent threw up a bubble. Ku’Sox’s energy tore through both of them, bouncing off my smaller bubble. Black and gold shimmered like oil as Ku’Sox’s magic slammed into mine. I gasped when my hold on the line faltered, then held firm. Ku’Sox’s magic hung, stuck as it tried to burn through, and I panicked, not knowing what to do. It was better—my hold on the line was firm. I didn’t think anyone was wearing the ring. I could do this. I could fight back.

  “Eram pere!” I shouted, exploding my bubble out. It took Ku’Sox’s magic with it, slamming it into the ceiling to rain down like evil pixy dust.

  Trent tripped on something and went down, hand reaching for a counter. “Bis!” I shouted as the gargoyle darted to the last screaming infant as Ku’Sox ducked. “We have to go!”

  Trent pulled himself up, tall and proud. “Digitorum percussion,” he intoned, the heavy black in his hand growing darker, his golden aura racing over it to make it glow. My eyes widened as he pulled back, aiming for Ku’Sox. I could feel him pull on the line, he was so desperate. But he was aiming for Ku’Sox.

  My God. The baby. “Trent, no!” I cried, and I lunged for him. Quen’s foot tripped me, and I plowed into Trent, grabbing him about the knees instead of his middle where I’d intended.

  We went down, my teeth clenching as we hit the floor. Trent cried out in anger as his magic went wild, slipping from his hand to roll into a bank of machines. I ducked as it hit, sparks flying as machinery suddenly vanished, replaced by the smell of ozone and twisted metal.

  Shouting, Quen launched himself at Ku’Sox. The two of them went down in a tangle of arms and billowing fabric. Twin bursts of aura-tinted magic flared, and then Quen was flung back, sliding to a halt against the machines, his expression showing his pain and one hand clenched into a fist against his chest.

  “What are you doing!” Trent shouted at me, pushing me off him as he stood, and I backed up onto my knees before spinning to face Ku’Sox.

  “You might hurt the baby!” I yelled back at him, hunched and ready for the next attack.

  “That child is already dead!” Trent shouted, furious.

  “Put the baby down!” I exclaimed at Ku’Sox, moving to stand between him and everyone behind me. I didn’t know how I was going to stop him, but I was having a much easier time now that I was a slave with no master. Can I trust him? asked a small voice inside me, and I ached at the coming betrayal.

  “This child?” Ku’Sox said, swinging the screaming baby like pendulum, tossing him into the air to land in his arms. Behind him, Bis tensed, too far away to snatch him to safety. His eyes went behind me. “Dolore adficere,” Ku’Sox whispered, his fingers moving.

  I tensed, but all Ku’Sox did was smile as the child in his arms wailed even louder, hardly able to breathe.

  Fire suddenly erupted against my back, thought-stealing pain radiating out from my spine. I couldn’t breathe, and I collapsed to the floor, my fingers scrabbling behind me to find what it was. The heat spread to my hands, and I cried out, pulling them to my front to see that they were covered in a burning, golden-hued aura—burning me from the outside in. Ku’Sox’s curse had come from Trent.

  “Valeo,” I gasped to counter it, flooding my mind with a numbing cold, sucking in the air as I heard Ku’Sox laugh and the baby scream. His shoes were crunching on glass, and fear gave me the strength to force my head up, seeing him past my strands of hair. Heart pounding, I scuttled backward. Quen was struggling to stop Trent. Trent had hit me. He had cursed me. But by his frustrated, pained expression, he hadn’t done it by choice. My God, Ku’Sox was nuts. He was laughing, knowing full well I’d rip his head off if I could. But maybe he knew I’d never get even half a chance.

  “This is not me!” Trent shouted, his face creased and sweat darkening his hair as he shoved Quen off him. “It’s not me!” he said again, grunting with the effort to keep his hand from rising. His eyes widened in a sudden fear. “Flee, Rachel . . .”

  “Sa’han!” Quen cried out, ducking behind a bubble when Trent threw another spell. It was aimed at me, and I threw up a circle, but my reaction was too slow and it tore through it, the spell hitting me square on before my barrier could fully form.

  Pain crawled over me like ants, skittering from my chest and working its way through me, and I screamed. If it reached my mind, I was dead. “Valeo,” I sobbed again, curled on the floor within my bubble, shaking as the pinpricks faded and died.

  “Interesting,” Ku’Sox said, that baby still wailing in his arms as he sat on the broken window frame and crossed his ankles to watch. “Do that one again. I want to know if she can do it any faster.”

  “Damn it all to hell!” I shouted at Trent as I looked up, seeing Ku’Sox’s frown; he was not entirely pleased that I could counter that one. “You do that again, and I’ll smack you!” I said to Trent as I trembled with adrenaline.

  “I can’t help it,” he rasped through gritted teeth, and then he dropped to one knee, groaning as he fought whatever Ku’Sox was making him do next.

  “Yeah, well, sorry then,” I said, gathering my will. “Alta quies simillima mort!” I shouted, flinging half of the curse at Trent, holding the rest in my palm, burning. The curse tore through my bubble, absorbing it and pulling it over and around me like a dirty shirt. It smacked into Trent, and the man went down, his neck nothing but cords of muscle. He gave one spasm, then lay still, his chest rising and falling peacefully.

  “You struck him!” Quen said, clearly shocked.

  “He hit me first,” I said, then flicked the rest of the charm at Ku’Sox.

  The demon deflected it with a hasty pop. I knew it wouldn’t land, but at least he had stopped laughing. Trent lay unconscious. It wouldn’t last long, and I got up, hurting, tired, and pissed. Flee, Trent had said. It sounded like a good idea. If Bis could snatch us from a ley line, then he could by
God jump us out as he had the babies.

  “Rachel?” Bis said, looking scared as he landed beside me on the rolling chair. “He’s got the only baby left.”

  “I’ll get him,” I said as I stood up and tugged my shirt straight. “Get Quen and Trent out of here. Catch me when I jump.” If Trent wasn’t here, then he couldn’t try to kill Ku’Sox using me to do it.

  “No!” Quen said, arm up to fend Bis off, and then they were gone.

  I took a deep breath, glad Quen was safe. If Bis didn’t come back for Trent or me, then I’d die happy. Ray would not grow up without her father.

  “Give me that baby,” I said, shaking as I listed to one side, and Ku’Sox took his pinkie from the now quiet child, charmed to sleep with a curse.

  “One step closer, and I squeeze,” he said, smiling down at the sleeping infant.

  I froze as Trent stirred behind him. “You want me, not him.”

  Ku’Sox raised an eyebrow. “Offering to take his place? But I already have you. Come sunup, I will be pleading to the collective to spare your life. And they will give you to me because otherwise, I’ll kill them all and they know it.”

  “Not unless I kill you first.” Maybe Trent had the right idea after all.

  Bis popped into existence, right on top of Trent, and I jerked. “You will regret this, little rat!” Ku’Sox shouted, and I flung up a bubble around them as Bis popped Trent out. Ku’Sox’s magic winged into the nursery, quiet and empty. “Enough!” Ku’Sox shouted, throwing the baby from him as if the infant were trash.

  “No!” I shoved myself into motion, arms outstretched as the baby screamed in fear. I hit the floor front first, eyes closed from the impact and stretching forward. My hands were empty. An awful thump echoed through me, and I curled up in heartache. I had jumped too short. I had missed. Knowing what I’d find, I opened my eyes, tears blinding me as I gathered up the silent, limp baby and stood, my knees shaking in anger.

  “You will behave, Rachel, or you learn obedience from the back of my hand,” Ku’Sox seethed.