Ever After

Chapter Seventeen



The late afternoon sun was gone from the kitchen as I sat at the table, depressed as I stared at the defunct disguise amulet perched in my fingertips. I wasn't in the best of moods to be trying something so difficult as breathing life into a ley line charm that had been dead for more than ten years, but I wanted some practice before I tried this again with some rich elf's one-of-a-kind family heirloom.



I'd already found the charm I wanted from the brochure, checking the description and the owner's claims of powers against an account found in one of the books Trent had gotten from the library. Quen was going to bring it over when he came to pick up Lucy. He was overdue, and I hoped everything was okay.



"Rings," I said sourly, looking at the charm balanced on my hand. Why couldn't it be a sword or whip or something pointy? But no, elves apparently had a thing for rings, and the set I'd chosen seemed perfect, allowing a strong connection that would allow me to join my strength to Quen's or Trent's. It wasn't made for war, and I hoped that meant elves and demons could use it. That Al would be healed up enough to help me was nothing I wanted to count on.



"If, if, if," I muttered as I stared at the charm balanced on my fingertips. I was putting the F back in if, and I didn't like it. Time was stealing my buffer for when if turned to no. I was starting to hate two-letter words.



I'd thought that practicing reinvoking old charms would be a good idea. I just wished I wasn't blowing my dad's old charms to hell, one by one. It didn't help that I was trying to be quiet as Jenks read to Lucy in the back living room, or that a handful of pixies were playing in my dad's dusty box, giggling and whispering as they plotted mischief. Between the catchy rhymes from next door, the giggling whispers, and me thinking Jenks had hidden Pierce's old watch from me so I couldn't try to resurrect him, it was hard to concentrate.



Indecision had made me cranky, but I figured if Pierce was able to be summoned back to a temporary life, he would be changing my ringtones. My phone had been distressingly silent. Ceri and Pierce were gone, and my heart ached more than I could have imagined.



Stifling a sneeze from the dusty box, I exhaled, balancing the defunct disguise ley line charm and pushing my aura off my hand. The weird mental gymnastics needed to shift my aura to different shades was getting easier, but leaving my hand mostly bare of protection made it ache.



"Hey!" I shouted when the flap of the box flipped out, almost hitting me. Dust rolled up, and I sneezed, earning six high-pitched "bless-yous" from the pixies giggling inside. "Okay, everyone out!" They rose up, a charm between them as they apologized, begging to stay. "Out," I reaffirmed, holding my hand under the charm, and they dropped it. The tarnished silver fell into my hand, a pool of gold pixy dust seeming to warm it as they apologized again.



"Out, and stay away from Lucy! She's finally settled down!" I called after them, and they were gone, out through the flue in the back living room if the squeals of Lucy's delight were any indication. I relaxed a bit as I listened to Jenks's voice murmur in rhyme, soothing as I set the charm back in the box. Wiping my nose, I sneezed again, but it was only a sneeze. I didn't expect to hear from Al until it was too late. I was on my own, and I thought it ironic that elves were going to help me save the ever-after and all demonkind.



Exhaling, I emptied my mind of everything but the ring of metal perched in my hand, imagining the smallest whisper of red I could puddling under it. With just the barest nudge, I sent a tiny mote of aura up to the amulet. I held my breath as my aura drifted closer, the glyphs etched into the charm beginning to glow. My heart pounded, and I squinted as the ping of energy grew closer, closer, almost touching the metal. A glowing haze over the amulet moved faster, and when my aura touched the charm . . .



"Ow!" I shouted as my hand cramped up. Jolts of energy darted through my fingers as the full spectrum of my aura raced to protect my hand, and I dropped the charm. From the window came a tiny shattering of glass.



"You okay?" Jenks called, Lucy's voice rising as well, mimicking his tone perfectly though the words were nonsense.



"Fine!" I exclaimed, frowning when I looked at the window. The brandy snifter on the sill was busted, Al's chrysalis amid the thick shards. "Nice." Setting the defunct amulet aside, I stood, my nose wrinkling at the burnt amber smell coming off the chrysalis.



"Rachel?" Quen's voice called, strong but faint from the front of the church, shortly followed by the slamming of the door into the wall. "Are you in back?"



A bittersweet feeling took me, and I plucked the large chunks of glass out of the sink and dropped them in the trash. "Yes!" I exclaimed, and Lucy mimicked my call again.



A feminine clatter of high heels in the hallway gave me pause until I remembered Ellasbeth. I barely had time to run a hand over my hair before the woman skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, her eyes bright, her lips parted, hair a mess and her coat buttoned wrong. "Where?" she said, her eyes roving my kitchen and my empty arms.



"Abba?" Lucy called from the back living room, and Ellasbeth spun. "Abba!" It was demanding this time, and Ellasbeth bolted.



"Oh! My baby!" she said, but she was gone and I was alone, wondering how this was going to go over. Lucy probably didn't remember her. Sure enough, frightened, intolerant baby protest rose amid Ellasbeth's dramatic tears. "Lucy! Are you all right? I missed you so much! Look at you. You smell terrible, but I missed you so much. Oh, you got so big!"



I probably didn't smell all that good either, and I shoved the window open a crack to let the cool spring air pool on the floor. In the back room, Lucy began to fuss in earnest, her complaints almost unheard over Ellasbeth. "It's going to complicate things," Jenks's voice came softly from the hall, mixing with Quen's footsteps. "We just have to be more careful."



Jenks and Quen came in as I turned from the window, Ray on Quen's hip, looking sweet with her dark hair and in her tartan kilt and hat. Ceri's death came rushing back, and suddenly tears blurred my vision. Damn it, I hadn't wanted to cry, but seeing him there with his motherless child and knowing that the girl would grow up without Ceri's love was almost too much to take.



"Don't," Quen said raggedly as Jenks hovered uncertainly at his shoulder, and I forced my eyes wide, sniffing the tears back. Quen's own eyes glistened, the limitless pain in his soul showing. "Please don't," he said stoically. "I'll grieve when the war is over. I can't afford it now."



I nodded, head down as I shoved my heartache away. War. That was about right. Quen looked capable in his short leather jacket and cap, like a bad boy grown up with a '79 Harley parked in a three-car garage and a huge mortgage. The child on his hip somehow worked perfectly. Grief shimmered under his tight jaw and haunted eyes. "I'm sorry," I said, feeling helpless as he came into the kitchen and set Ray on the center island counter, his hand never leaving her, steadying her as she sat upright and silently watched the pixies who had come in with them. "None of this was your fault."



"It feels like it is."



But it wasn't, and I leaned against the sink, aching at the sounds of Ellasbeth reuniting with her child. It hurt knowing Ceri never would. The pixies in the rack were taking turns dusting different colors, and Ray was riveted. Both Quen and Jenks began to look uncomfortable as Ellasbeth's noises became louder.



Quen steadied Ray, and remembering Jenks's cryptic comment when he had come in, I said, "So, what's up, Jenks? More trouble?"



Sitting on the faucet, Jenks frowned. "Jax is around." The draft from the window pushed his depressed copper dust from him like a wayward aura. "The kids heard his wings not five minutes ago. And where Jax is, Nick probably follows."



"Ku'Sox is trying to get around our agreement," I said as I went to get a paper towel from the roll we kept on the table, a must when living with pixies. Ku'Sox had Trent, body and soul. He was also uncursed, which meant he didn't need Nick anymore. That made the slimy man dangerous because he would be trying to prove to Ku'Sox that he was still worth something.



The rip of the paper towel was loud as I listened to Ellasbeth say, "Mama, not Abba. Mama, Lucy. Mama." I couldn't help my frown. Ceri was her mama, not Ellasbeth.



Jenks flitted to the counter, his wings still as he walked to the edge. "Don't worry, Rache. We won't let crap for brains or Jax close enough to know what's going on."



"Thank you, Jenks," I said as I dampened the paper towel and wiped the inside of the sink to get the tiny shards of glass. I had the beginnings of a plan that hinged on two rings I might not be able to use even if I could get them reinvoked.



Quen's guilty frown when I turned back around stopped me cold. "What?" I said flatly, and he winced. Jenks clattered his wings aggressively, coming to hover beside me. Together we made a united front, Ellasbeth's continued efforts to get Lucy to say mama an ugly backdrop.



Grimacing, Quen crouched with Ray, setting her on the floor, and gruffly saying, "Go say hi to your sister." Ray leaned forward into a crawl for the hallway, hesitating to study the feel of the circle I'd gouged out of the linoleum before crossing it.



"Ray!" Lucy crowed, and the little girl's feet disappeared with a gurgling giggle.



My faint smile faded as Quen rose, his eyes going to the scorch marks, then the ley line charms sitting next to the dusty box. "What aren't you telling us?" I demanded, and he clasped his hands before him.



"How badly do you need that particular pair of rings?"



Jenks rose up with a sound of disgust, and I threw the towel with the glass shards away, letting the cabinet door slam. "Pretty bad," I said tightly. "Why?" I couldn't tell if his grimace was because of the rings or because Ellasbeth was now crying at the girls' enthusiastic reunion.



"Ah, the family that promised their use won't give them to us now that Trent is missing."



Great. That's just freaking great.



Ellasbeth's soft, one-sided tearful conversation filtered in from the living room as Quen reached for a chair and sat down. It was unusual, but he was still recovering from the beating he'd taken Monday morning. He'd be on the cusp of having his aura back at full strength tomorrow. It sat sour in me that I'd be risking Ray growing up with no parent at all, but I needed someone to watch my back, and Quen would be shamed if I didn't ask him.



"I'll talk to them again," Quen said, clearly embarrassed. "Unless you want a different pair?"



I frowned. The only other pair that had any chance of making a strong enough connection between elf and demon was a pair that touted itself to be demon slavers. "I don't know how much it's going to matter," I said, frustrated as I started tidying, dropping my dad's old charms into the box one by one. "I'm having a hard time getting anything to reinvoke." Friday. I had until Friday night. "What do you mean they won't let me use their stupid rings?" I blurted suddenly, ticked. "Don't they know this is for the good of all elfkind!" Quen's eye twitched at Ellasbeth's ongoing passive-aggressive conversation with the girls aimed at us, not them. "Don't you have some kind of authority in his absence? I can probably move the imbalance, but without some power to back it up, I'm going to get smeared into a dark stain on an ever-after rock before any other demon can come out to verify Ku'Sox was behind it!"



Quen lifted a hand and let it fall, clearly at a loss. Jenks just shook his head and darted out of the room, his dust a bright silver. Yelling was getting me nowhere, and tired, I leaned back against the sink. Ivy would be back tonight. Maybe we could just go steal the damn rings.



Rex came in to curve around my ankles, and I ran a hand over my face.



"Can't you simply explain to the demons what Ku'Sox is doing?" Quen said. "They aren't stupid. Surely one of them can spot you. Al maybe?"



I never thought I'd ever see the day he would recommend a demon help me, and I smiled. It was short-lived, though. "No," I said flatly. "They're afraid down to the last one, and I'm not going to count on Al's aura being full strength in time." Quen's eyebrows rose, and I wiped my hands and leaned into the center counter. "They know what Ku'Sox is up to, better than I do. But the Rosewood babies Nick stole are Ku'Sox's bribes, life rafts for the demons who back him. They'll take a sure risk-free bet that might get them permanently in reality over standing up to Ku'Sox and possibly losing everything."



I hesitated, watching Rex make a slow, nonchalant way to the other side of the kitchen, her tail up and whiskerless face searching. In a fumbling, unbalanced jump from her lack of whiskers, Rex leaped onto the counter by the sink. I smoothly lifted her and set her back on the floor. The tip of the cat's tail twitched in displeasure as she stared up at the chrysalis. "I have to empty the line of the imbalances and survive long enough for the other demons to agree he broke it. Ku'Sox is stronger than me. Stronger than Newt. Really smart, huh? Making a child that no one can control?"



Quen exhaled in thought, and my stomach knotted. There were too many ifs. Too many maybes. I turned to the cupboard to get something to cover the chrysalis with. "If they don't give me the rings, I'm just going to go steal them."



The scrape of the glass going over the chrysalis was loud, and the silence grew as the pixies sang to Lucy and Ray, captivating them-and getting Ellasbeth to finally shut up. On a sudden impulse, I twisted Trent's pinkie ring off and shoved it under the glass with the chrysalis. Two days. Two freaking days. I didn't have the time to steal some dumb rings.



Jenks darted in, wincing at his offspring's noise. "You're overthinking this," the pixy said as he came to rest on Ivy's monitor where he could see the kitchen and a slice of the living room, too. "I say you get the rings, reinvoke them, forget the line, and just pop over to Ku'Sox's lair so you and Trent can kill the sucker."



"That's what Trent wants," I said, and Quen jerked his head up, clearly alarmed.



"Ah, Rachel?" the older man said, and I raised a hand.



"Relax, I'm not going to try to kill Ku'Sox," I said, though part of me cried out for revenge. A smarter bruised and battered part of me knew better. "I'm going to need your help, though, to hold off Ku'Sox after moving the imbalance. Will you be up for it Friday night?"



Friday night. Why did I always have to cut these things so close?



"Just try to do this without me," he grumbled.



Clearly unsure, Jenks dusted a dull gold, his wings blurring to nothing as he stood on the monitor. "Then that's the plan," I said, watching Rex pad out of the kitchen. "QED. Quite Easily Done." Or Quite Easily Dead, as my dad used to say.



It wasn't a great plan, but it was a plan, and the depressed silence in the kitchen grew until Ellasbeth began shouting at the pixies to get out. They were singing now, and Lucy was joining in, shrieking just for the hell of it. The woman needed help, but I wasn't going to go in there. Neither was Quen by the look of it, wincing from the shrill voices raised in rhyme and mayhem. Unable to take it anymore, Rex slunk past the kitchen, probably on her way to hide under my bed. Chaos. My life was chaos.



"So I guess the first thing would be to get the rings, preferably without Nick knowing?"



Jenks darted to the hallway to rescue Ellasbeth. "We're going to have to steal them."



Quen stood, his pox scars standing out sharp against his pale expression. "I'll talk to them again," he said, but Jenks was right. We'd have to steal them, and I stared at the ceiling, going through what I'd need. Rope, silence charms, something to remove aura residue . . .



"Worth a try," I said as Jenks yelled at his kids to get outside.



Finally there was only Lucy's loud "singing" as Jenks's kids left and Ellasbeth staggered into the kitchen, the weight of both girls nearly bringing her down. "Abba!" Lucy cried, her eyes alight as she reached for him. It about broke my heart, but in a good way. Quen immediately took her, having to forcibly pull the blanket-wrapped Lucy from Ellasbeth when the woman indicated he should take Ray instead.



"Coo ox! Coo ox!" Lucy crowed as she patted her blanket, then gently touched Quen's chin. "Abba, coo ox!"



My face warmed as Ellasbeth's eyes scanned my kitchen, lingering on the scorch marks, the water glass overturned on the windowsill, and finally to the dusty box. She said nothing, and I would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. Jenks whispered something into Quen's ear to make him blink, and she frowned. Ever stoic, Quen gently took Lucy's fingers and pulled them from his face. She was still going on about "coo ox." I had a bad feeling I knew what she was saying. Ellasbeth, though, was clueless.



"What does that mean, anyway? Coo ox?" the woman asked, clearly thinking our sudden silence meant we'd been talking behind her back.



"Ah, that's Ku'Sox," I said, and Ellasbeth's expression blanked.



"Coo ox!" Lucy crowed, making a show of smelling the blanket. Quen was mystified, but I winced as I figured it out.



"That's the blanket that Al gave me," I said. "It probably smells like the ever-after."



Horrified, Ellasbeth stood, her face red. "It smells like a demon!" she exclaimed, and ignoring Lucy's triumphant "Coo ox! Coo ox!" she snatched Lucy from Quen, pulling her out from the blanket and letting it fall to the floor.



Staggering under the weight of both girls, she settled herself in Ivy's chair. "Thank you for getting Lucy back to me," Ellasbeth said, her expression flashing into irate when she realized her coat was closed wrong as Ray patted the buttons.



Surprised, I stood straighter. "Ah, I just wish I could have gotten everyone out of there."



Ellasbeth's gaze came back from the window behind me. Pixies had plastered themselves against the kitchen screen, distracting the girls and making Jenks scowl. "Quen told me you bought Lucy's freedom at great risk to your own," she insisted. "I can't ever thank you enough. If there is anything, ever. At all."



I said nothing, a hundred things racing through my mind. She was going to be Trent's wife before too long, and something there really rankled me. He deserved better.



Jenks looked up at my silence, his motions to get his kids to leave faltering. "There is one thing," I said, and his dust shifted to an alarmed orange.



Ellasbeth blinked in surprise. "Name it," she said as if granting boons was her hobby.



Be nice, I thought, though it was hard, seeing her holding Ray and Lucy when Ceri no longer could. "I, ah, get that you and Trent are trying to make this work," I said, and Quen paled. "I think it's a great idea and all for everyone except Trent."



"Rachel?" Quen said, and Ellasbeth shot a look at him to shut up.



"Really? Do elaborate."



I knew it wasn't the polite thing, but no one else would say this, so I had to. "Do you think you could make half an effort to understand who he's trying to be?" I finished almost plaintively.



"I beg your pardon?"



Jenks winced, darting to the rack and out of range of anything. Quen also quietly stepped back. But hell, I had fought banshees and crazy vampires. If push came to shove, I could take her. Besides, what was she going to do with two babies on her lap? "He's great at being what you all need him to be," I said, gesturing at nothing. "Saving the elves and seeing you safe from the threat of extinction. But did it ever occur to you that he wants to be something else? Don't crush what he can keep for himself. That's all I'm asking. Let him have what he can."



Ellasbeth was white in anger. Lucy jumped in her lap blurting nonsense sounds, but Ray stared up at Ellasbeth and patted her trembling chin.



"Never mind," I said, dropping my head and sighing. "Go get married. Have more babies. Rule the world. You'll both be great at it."



"How dare you!"



I calmly watched her stagger to stand, and knowing it would infuriate her, I turned my back on her to get a glass of water. If she tried anything, I'd throw it on her.



"Quen! Take these children. Let me go!" she exclaimed from behind me, and I heard a scuffle. "Take your hands off me!"



The pixies at the window were watching with rapt attention, and I stifled a smirk.



"Don't do this," Quen said to her, his low voice gravelly.



"You will take your hands off me!" she insisted, and I let the water run until it got cold.



"Go wait in the car," Quen said. Then louder, "Go take the girls and wait in the car." Finally he shouted, "Go wait in the car, or I will stand by and let her say what she really thinks of you!"



I turned around with my glass of water. Jenks was watching from within a copper bowl hanging from the rack, a weird silty dust falling from it. Tense, Quen stood beside and a little in front of Ellasbeth. She was chalk white, her painted lips a bright contrast. I didn't care if she was insulted. It had needed to be said. I owed Trent that.



"I understand the strain you're under," she said, chin high as Lucy's hand patted her face. "So the door of friendship is still open between us. You mean a lot to Trent. He explained to me what happened at camp, and I understand your feelings for him."



My feelings for him? What happened at camp? What was she talking about?



Seemingly satisfied at my cautiously puzzled expression, she pulled herself straighter. "Please bring my fiance home to us."



"That's my intent," I said dryly, and Quen tugged at her elbow. "But when I do, don't kill him slowly. Let the man breathe."



Eyes narrowed, she turned slowly under the weight of the girls and stalked to the hall. "Quen?" she said imperiously. "I will be waiting in the car. Call ahead and see that a bath is drawn for both girls by the time we get to Trenton's holdings. I want to stop on the way for an entirely new set of clothes for Lucy."



"It's only the clothes she has on that are tainted," Quen said, and the woman glared from the hallway.



"This entire church smells! She will have a new wardrobe!" she exclaimed, then click-clacked her slow, ponderous way to the door, the two girls calling in delight at the pixies waiting for them in the sanctuary.



Okay, that was probably going to come back and bite me on the ass, but I didn't care. Trent would thank me for it someday. Setting the water aside, I scooped up the blanket Ellasbeth had let fall and brought it to my nose. After three wash cycles, I couldn't smell anything, but I wasn't an elf.



Jenks whistled long and loud. "Damn, Rache, you sure know how to make friends."



Quen took the blanket from me, giving it a sniff as well. "Thank you for making the next forty minutes of my life hell," he muttered, clearly not smelling anything, either.



A tiny smile quirked the corner of my mouth up. "I'm sorry."



"No, you aren't," he said darkly. "You enjoyed it."



"Oh, you're just mad that I could say it and you couldn't." Taking the blanket back, I folded it up.



"Quen!" Ellasbeth shouted. "Come open this door! My hands are full with the children."



"I'll get it," Jenks offered, and Quen shot him a thankful glance. Immediately my mood swung back to melancholy as Jenks darted out, halfheartedly telling his kids to leave Lucy and Ray alone.



Still holding the faint remnants of a smile, I pushed away from the counter to give Quen a hug. Ceri was gone, and it hurt. My eyes closed as his arm went around me and the scent of burnt amber mixed with the smell of wine and cinnamon. "I'm sorry," I said as I stepped back, and his eyes took on a deeper shine.



"Thank you for bringing Lucy back to us," he said, and I shrugged with one shoulder.



"I wish I could have-" My throat closed. Damn it, how could Ceri be dead?



"It wasn't your task," Quen said, and I forced myself to look up. "It was no one's fault."



"But . . ."



He smiled, the pain thick in the new wrinkles around his eyes. "She'd tell you to mind your own business and to not blame yourself."



My head dropped. Probably in loud, small words so I wouldn't run the risk of misunderstanding. "She would at that," I said, and he touched my shoulder as he turned away.



"Quen," I said, and he halted. From the front of the church came a loud boom of sound as the door shut, then blessed silence. I looked at Quen. I had things I wanted to say, that Trent was braver than I had thought, and foolish. That I trusted him, but I also knew there were limits to magic and luck. That I didn't see a happy ending to this.



"I don't think Trent is planning on coming back unless he can kill Ku'Sox," I said flatly, and Quen's lip twitched. "That Lucy is safe has given him more freedom to act, but unless we can convince the other demons to band up against Ku'Sox, I don't see a happy ending to this." I lifted a foot and rubbed the back of my calf to hide my trembling.



Quen's expression gave me no clue as to what he was feeling. "You think he can do it?"



My breath came fast. "Kill Ku'Sox? Frankly, no. Not alone. All the demons together were only able to shove the psycho in a hole in reality. It might be different now." I looked at the ceiling, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry about Ellasbeth. I don't know what came over me."



Quen chuckled, his shoes scraping as he put a light hand on my shoulder again. "Thank you for trusting Trent," he said, his eyes heavy with emotion. "Not many do, and even fewer for the right reasons." He looked toward the front of the church. "I should be able to manipulate line energy tomorrow. It would be my honor to help you at the Loveland line."



My heart pounded, and a wave of relief took me, even as I worried it might end in more grief, more pain. "Thank you."



"But I have a favor to ask."



My head snapped up. Elves asking for favors was never good. "What?" I said flatly.



Quen's gaze dropped, then came back to mine. "I asked this before, and I'm asking you again."



Shit. "Quen," I whined. "I'm not going to do your job. Look at that woman out there. You think she will let me anywhere near him again? And that's even assuming we all make it out of this alive."



Taking my hand, he turned it over so the demon mark on my wrist showed. His eyes were filled with grief as they met mine. "Rachel, I didn't mean it to happen, but I have someone else I have to protect now. Someone besides Trent."



I remembered Ray on his hip and Lucy's hands eagerly reaching for him. It was the right thing to do, but still . . . panic slid through me. "Quen, I don't even like him. I mean, I do, but I live here, and you live there, and how am I supposed to keep track of him when I've got my own stuff to do and that woman-"



"Please." Quen's expression was pained. "I'm not asking you to do my job. Just . . . understand that I can't be what he needs anymore to survive. I can't devote myself to him. Ray-" His voice choked off. It was low when he spoke again. "Ray needs me. All of me, not the thin sliver of me that's left when Trent needs help. She won't be safe until Ku'Sox is dead, but after that, I am hers, not Trent's. You don't have to work for him, just be there when he needs it. That's all I'm asking. And maybe don't let Ellasbeth snuff everything he wants to be."



My pulse was hammering. I recalled Trent pulling Nick off me, the power that had flowed through me when he'd broken the charm hiding me from Al, waiting until I knew what I would lose if I turned my back on my future, and finally that kiss we had shared. It had only been a kiss-no feelings behind it but my own selfish pleasure. Then I thought of Ellasbeth. He had a duty there, one I knew he would sacrifice everything for. "But . . ."



"I wasn't sure until now, but I know you'll be what he needs."



What he needs? "What about me? Who is going to risk their life for me?"



Quen's eyes came back to mine. "He will, of course."



His voice was confident, and I could do nothing but stare with my mouth hanging open.



"I have to go before she learns how to drive," he said, seeing my confusion. "I'll talk to the owners of that charm again."



"I haven't said yes, yet," I said, and Quen turned in the threshold, not in the kitchen, not in the hall.



"It's said that the reason the elves and demons began their war is because of a broken alliance," he said, the world-weary damage to his face making him look wise. "I've always found it to be true-that the best of friends make the bitterest of enemies. Elves and demons, forever fighting. Who is to say that demons weren't the slaves of elves first?"



My eyes were wide as he inclined his head, spun slowly on a heel, and went down the hall. "Don't worry about reinvoking the charms," he said loudly, his steps going faint. "Your dad was a good man, but cheap. The silver is too frail. You'll be able to fix the good ones."



I dropped back against the counter, crossing my arms as I listened to him pass through the sanctuary and into the late afternoon sun. Work with Trent? With that dragon in the background watching me? Was he nuts?