"Okay! We're set!" Jenks said brightly as he wiggled out of the hole in the wall that he had made, a string of ignition wires trailing behind him. "You want me to use what's left over to seal the door?"
Trent nodded, and Ellie set her shoulders resolutely, sniffing back her tears. "I'm a foolish old woman," she said softly, a determined fix to her jaw.
"Get your rappelling stuff out," Jenks said, clearly excited as he darted into the outer room ahead of them. "Don't you have a sling for her or something?"
Trent nodded, hesitating as he realized he was going to have to set Lucy down to put it on. Ellie held her arms out, and he reluctantly set her into her grandmother's arms. The little girl reached up, patting her damp cheeks, and Ellie make a choking gurgle of a laugh, smiling through the tears.
Jenks gave Trent a sick look, then went back to check the linkages. Head down, Trent prepped himself for the trip down, fastening the safety harness around himself, checking that the baby sling would not be pinched, coiling the wire-thin, strong filament that would hold them into a smooth bundle. Ellie was cooing at Lucy, and the little girl was cooing back. Trent's stomach churned.
"Nine months," he said, unable to take it anymore, and Ellie looked up, confusion in her expression. "Give me nine months alone with Lucy, and I will reconsider renegotiating a new settlement with Ellasbeth," he said, taking the baby from Ellie's unresisting arms. Damn it, why did I do that? he thought, but the woman had lit up, her tears making her beautiful. "I'm doing this for you, not Ellasbeth," he added, embarrassed.
"Thank you," she said, clutching at his arm and glancing at the door as if she couldn't wait for them to escape so she could tell someone. Seeing her joy, Trent became even more angry at Ellasbeth. This could have been avoided. The trip out here, the deaths, the turmoil, everything. Ellasbeth was a selfish fool.
But looking down at his feisty daughter, he found himself smiling again. "I hope you're rested, Lucy," he said, jiggling the baby as Jenks came back in. "We have a busy afternoon. Can you be quiet for me?"
Jenks hovered over his shoulder, eyeing the baby now reaching out for the little man with wings. "You do know she doesn't understand a word you're saying."
Trent shrugged. "You ready to do this?"
"Does a troll pee green piss?" The pixy laughed.
FIVE
Are you sure this isn't overkill?" Trent muttered to Jenks as he crouched between Ellie, Lucy, Bob the guard, Megan, and the open archway to the nursery. His explosive gum would only make a tiny pop, and Jenks was treating it as if it were a stick of C4.
Jenks eyed him, then darted to the door where Trent had pasted the last of the gum on the door that led to the hall. A curious sliver of green dust slipped down, and, arms over his chest, he dramatically snapped his fingers.
A tiny wave of force exploded out of the lock, making Trent duck and Ellie gasp. Jenks rode the bubble of air like a surfer, grinning as he spun to a stop in front of Trent's nose. From the hallway came muffled, alarmed voices. "You might want to duck," the pixy said saucily. "I put ten times that between the drywall and insulation over the window."
"Right." Glancing at Ellie, he shifted his weight to resettle Lucy in her baby sling. "Everyone cover their eyes." His hand went protectively under the little girl, and she gurgled happily. Trent couldn't help his proud look down at her. He'd known her for only five minutes, and he already liked what he saw: grit, determination, acceptance of excitement. He didn't have much experience with babies, but how could this be a bad thing?
"Here we go!" Jenks said as he tucked in under Ellie's ear, then made a chirp with his wings, the two-toned sound like tinfoil on Trent's teeth.
A flash of sound and light boomed through the open archway. Orange and green mixed like auras against his vision, blending with the memory of thunder. The floor shook, and Trent met Ellie's eyes, seeing the pain of Jenks's wing noise still in her expression. It turned to shock as they all stumbled, even crouched on the floor as they were, and Trent put a hasty hand on the stone to keep from falling.
"My God . . ." Trent breathed, absently patting Lucy as she stared horrified at him to see how she should react before finally giving up and beginning to wail. "Oh no, it's okay, Lucy," he said as he stood, his free hand extended to help Ellie rise. Bob and Megan were still unconscious, and Jenks took off from Ellie's shoulder, his passage making twin whirlwinds in the dust now spilling into the outer room along with the muted sounds of the ocean and a bright white light.
They'd done it. The amount of light coming through was substantial, and Trent tried to quell his growing excitement. Taking a huge breath, he shoved it deep under a thick layer of hard-won boardroom protocol. "Are you okay, Ellie?" he asked calmly, even as he stifled a tremor at the moist smell of ocean. Lucy's wailing had become loud, and the pounding from the door even more frantic.
"Fine," she said, letting go of his hand and bending to brush the dust from Megan's face. "I wanted to redecorate the baby's room anyway." Her brow pinched, and she looked away.
Guilt tugged at him, even as he clenched his jaw resolutely.
"We got a hole! Let's go!" Jenks shouted from the other room, and Trent leaned into motion, patting Lucy through the carry mesh when her furious, red-faced wailing cut off sharply as she coughed.
"That's a good girl, Lucy," Trent said, smiling down at her and giving her a jiggle. Distracted by her cough, she forgot what she was crying about and her complaints subsided into a tear-streaked pouting. "See at the sunlight on the ceiling!" he said as he looked into the demolished room, and even though she had no clue what he was saying, his tone soothed her.
"Wow." Trent blinked at the destruction, thinking he'd never used the word before, but Jenks was right. They had a hole. A bloody big hole with the sky and water beyond it, blue and sparkling. A fresh breeze eddied in to dispel the last of the powdered rock, replacing it with the scent of salt and seaweed. From her sling, Lucy squinted at the bright light, fussing when he shifted to put her in the shade.
Trent half turned as Ellie came in, exhaling in dismay. The desk was a mangled mess of rock and wallboard. The crib was broken. "Don't let Ellasbeth see this without knowing that Lucy is safe first," he said, and Ellie's feet scuffed.
"I won't," she breathed. "Trenton . . ."
It was time to go. He could hear a power tool whining at the door. One hand under Lucy, he peered down the drop-off. He was too practical to be afraid of heights, but his stomach clenched as he saw the perfect unmarred water and then looked at his watch. Where's the boat? Feeling his tension, Lucy kicked.