"Is that it?" I said, and Trent looked up, still standing hunched over his book, his back almost to me, stiff and cold.
"Is that what?"
I gestured at the instruments. "The machine that saved my life?" It was as close as I would go to an outright accusation of his helping Ku'Sox, and his ears reddened.
"No, it's better by about three generations," he said, still making notes. "Once I get the strand of DNA I want, I incorporate it into a mild-acting virus that targets the mitochondria. I'm not entirely happy with the strand I'm currently using. I didn't have a chance to clean it before proliferation." His pen stopped. Slowly he straightened and looked down at his lab book. "It has a seventy-seven percent perfection, which will cause problems in some of the subjects, but Ku'Sox is a butcher, and if twenty-three percent of his children die, then he will be happy with the seventy-seven remaining."
I blanched, turning to look at the empty bassinet and the rows of babies-eating, sleeping, crying. There had to be at least a dozen out there. "That's inhuman."
Trent gazed at the nursery, a lost expression on his face. "He would've been happy with twenty percent."
My lips curled. "You're helping him," I accused, and Trent's eyes narrowed. "You told me you'd never give him what he wanted!"
His eyes bore into mine. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Hey, if the lab coat fits."
Making a low sound of discontent, Trent hunched back over his book. Thinking that might have been harsh, I went to the nursery window, my hand cold when it touched the glass. It was obvious that the women could see us, but they went about their business with a blind furtiveness that told me they knew they were alive on sufferance-until Ku'Sox didn't need them anymore. "He took their nurses, too?" I asked in guilt. I couldn't save everyone.
"In some cases."
His words had come from the back of his throat, and the hidden tight disgust in it made me take a second look. All the women had red hair. "Oh," I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Is there another way out of here?"
"I said I was not leaving."
The anger in his voice turned me back around. "Stay here?" I said, hand on my hip. "I thought we had a good plan. Thanks for nothing. Where's Bis? Have you seen him?"
Snagging his rolling chair with a foot, Trent expertly wrangled it around until he could sit. "He's fine," he said, so low I could almost not hear it. "The older gargoyles are very keen on talking to him when Ku'Sox isn't watching."
"Maybe they're teaching him the resonances of their lines," I said, wondering if there might be something good in this after all.
His head bowed, Trent kept writing. Ticked, I came to see what he was doing, and he looked up. "Bis knows the line in the garden," I said. "Where's Ceri and Lucy?" His jaw quivered, and I added, "Bis can jump us all out."
What in hell is his problem? I thought when Trent ran a slow hand over his face, almost ignoring me. "You keep saying you want to work together; well, how about accepting a little help? Trent, pay attention to me!"
Finally he looked up, anguish flashing behind his eyes before he whispered, "Ceri is dead. And Pierce."
My heart seemed to stop. I took a faltering step, my face cold. He had to be joking! But Trent's face was pale and his red-rimmed eyes had new meaning as I staggered back against a bank of machines. "Ceri and Pierce?" I whispered, looking through the wall as if I could see Pierce. I'd just seen him. Just talked to him. "Why?"
But then I figured it out. I'd just seen him. Just talked to him. Oh God, this was my fault. I'd talked to Pierce, rekindled his belief that he was a demon killer. Ceri would help him . . . Hand to my stomach, I tried to find something to say, my mind blank.
Seeing my understanding, Trent turned back to the lab book as if it was the only thing real left to him. "What happened?" I breathed. I already knew the why for everything: why Trent was here doing what Ku'Sox wanted, why he'd left with no warning, breaking the only easy way for anyone to follow, why he was closed and distant. Ku'Sox had called Trent's bluff. "What. Happened!"
My hand shook as it landed on Trent's shoulder. He didn't move, either to acknowledge my touch or shake it off. "She and Pierce got it into their heads they could overpower him if they worked together," he said flatly, and I closed my eyes against the heartache. This was my doing. Oh God. Quen. Ray.
"Ku'Sox told me they tried to kill him in his sleep and that in retaliation he had every right to burn Pierce alive with their own joined curse," he said, his tone frighteningly empty. "I have no reason to doubt that's exactly what happened. If Ceri thought she could take him, she'd try. Especially if he had been threatening Lucy. Ceri died several hours later. As best as I can gather."
I could hardly breathe, my chest hurt so badly. I wanted to rage that he was wrong, that Ku'Sox was tricking him into giving him what he wanted. But the memory of Ceri and Pierce working together to twist a black curse to kill fairies in my garden rose up, making my stomach sink. She'd been impressed with his skill, and Pierce had been trying to kill demons half his living existence and all of his dead. It had been all I could do to keep Pierce from trying to attack Ku'Sox yesterday. Had it only been yesterday? I thought, gazing at my burned fingers.
A tear brimmed and fell, splashing on them, and I made a fist. I didn't love Pierce, but it still hurt, still ached. And Ceri. She had been so happy, so alive. She finally had the family that she thought she never would. Now it was gone? She was dead?
My grief began to shift to anger. I could do things when I was angry.
"Ellasbeth didn't tell me any of this," I said, and Trent looked up, blinking as if he was rearranging his thoughts.
"Ellasbeth doesn't know," Trent said, his chest heaving with a sudden breath.
"Quen?" I asked, my voice rising at the end into a squeak. "Does Quen know?" Ellasbeth said he was in the basement trying to get the vault door open. If he managed it, he would be cut down in seconds, helpless without his magic.
Trent was writing in that book again, his numbers careful and precise. "Quen removed her body from my office," he said dully. "Ku'Sox left her there for me."
I thought I was going to throw up. Trent was calm, but I could see the rage underneath. Lucy had to still be alive. "Lucy? Bis?" I asked, and his writing hand faltered.
"Alive," he said, and my rapid breathing sounded harsh. "For the time being. You should leave before he finds you. Our plan can still work. You'll have to do much of it alone, though."