My eyebrows rose. "You want me to jump a line? Carrying you? That's what got us into this in the first place."
"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?"