Quen flushed as I used the elf name he'd given himself, but Jenks flew almost into my face. "You're not going into that purple line. You saw what it did to Al." He spun to Quen, an alarmed gold dust making a sunbeam on the table. "It fried his aura, and they both almost died!"
Ignoring him, I chewed on my lip. "I'd be careful," I said, then stifled a shiver. What if I got sucked into it by mistake? Or Ku'Sox shoved me?
"You're not going out there!" Jenks shrilled, and Quen winced, looking at the closet door. "It's not safe, and you know it!"
"When is my life safe?" I said, trying not to get riled up. "Trent could spot me if I used Al's rings. Would that make you happy?"
Jenks dropped several inches before he remembered to move his wings. Still leaning against the cabinet, Quen seemed to stiffen. I knew being almost helpless bothered him. "Al's rings?" Jenks scoffed, coming down and kicking at the gloves I'd taken off. "You think demon magic is going to work with an elf?"
My eyes went to Quen. He was frowning in thought. "I don't know. You got anything on demon wedding rings?" I asked, but he was already at the cabinet, putting his gloves back on. "I yanked Al's soul out of that event horizon using a pair of rings," I babbled. "They sort of melted our minds together." Jenks made a face, his dust shifting green. "Not like that," I said. "It was weird, though, as if I could pull on his strength, and he could pull on mine."
"Without asking?" Quen reached high to pull down a slim volume. It was falling apart and had no title, so I figured it was a demon text. "You sure they weren't slave rings?"
Chastity rings sounded far more slavelike than Al's rings. "Pretty sure," I said as Jenks peered over Quen's shoulder. "The connection felt equal. Like a scrying mirror but more complex, sort of like the difference between a phone call and talking in person. Al said the rings made an unbreakable connection," I said, stifling a shudder at the memory of feeling his pain, then squishing the thought of what sex might feel like. Da-a-amn . . . Feeling two orgasms at once might be worth the invasion of privacy.
Quen eyed me in my sudden silence, setting the volume down before me and pointedly handing me my gloves. I put them on, my curiosity growing as Quen opened it to almost the last page. "I think what you want is here."
No matter how I tugged the gloves, they felt too tight, but I smiled as I saw the rough drawings. It faded as I read what the demon rings were actually for. Increased sexual pleasure was on there, but they were really created as an implement of war, allowing a sort of superdemon able to overpower elves and whatever more easily. There was no clear master or subordinate ring as there was in the elf chastity rings. How they decided what curse to war with was up for debate, but perhaps that never came up in the heat of battle? I thought it interesting that it was assumed that it took two demons to overpower wild, elven magic. One thing was clear, though. The two people wearing them had no defense against each other if there was treachery. Wedding bands, indeed.
"Look, there it is," Jenks said, his dust sinking through the pages to make them glow from underneath. "Demon use only. You don't make something your enemy can use."
He was right, but I wasn't going to give up on this, and leaning back in my chair, I racked my brain for an answer. "Well, why not use the chastity rings?" I said suddenly, and Quen started. "You said they made a bond. If it's tight enough to quash someone's magic, I bet it's tight enough to pull me out of trouble."
Hunched over the book, Quen's eyes came to mine. "Those are elven chastity rings, not demon wedding bands," he almost growled.
"Right." I pushed my chair out and went over to them. "But he could yank me back. Just like Al's wedding rings!"
They were both staring at me as if I was nuts, but I knew it would work. It had to.
"They're broken," Quen said, and Jenks bobbed his head up and down. "The knowledge to make new ones is gone. The women burned all the texts."
"Big surprise." Not ready to let this go, I looked at them on their little black saucer. One was tiny, like a child's ring, which made sense if it was to keep young people in line. "I know someone who can bring spent ley line charms back to life," I said as I picked them both up.
Quen made a small sound, and I jiggled them in my hand.
"Pierce!" Jenks exclaimed, his wings a harsh rattle. "You're talking about Pierce! He's Newt's familiar! Rache, what have you been putting in your coffee?"
Smiling, I looked at the rings in my palm. Quen was right. They were dead. Not even a whisper of magic.
"Don't put the little one on!" Quen said as I angled it to my pinkie to see if it would fit, and I hesitated. "That's the subservient ring. Once it goes on, it doesn't come off until the master ring allows it."
Oh. Thinking, I jiggled the rings just to watch Quen's reaction. "You said they don't work."
"You want to risk it? Go ahead. Put it on."
Jenks came to hover over them, frowning in disapproval. "Even if you could get the rings reinvoked, Pierce is in the ever-after," he said, kicking the larger one into the smaller. It made a ping that seemed to echo through me.
"Why are you two always Debbie downers?" I said, closing my fingers around them.
Jenks landed on my closed fist. "Just what do you plan to do? Call Newt and ask her to pop you over? She's nuts!"
From behind me, Trent's soft voice said, "She doesn't have to."
I spun, warming as if I'd been caught stealing his stuff again. Shit, how long had he been there?
"Sorry," he said as he came farther in and took his hand from the closed door. "I didn't want to wake Ray up."
Sure, that's what he said, but Jenks was smirking at me, and Quen seemed smug that I was the only one Trent had surprised. His manner quick, Trent held out his hand, and I dropped the rings into them. He smelled like the outdoors, and of Ellasbeth's perfume. I stifled a surge of pique. There was a new drive in him, a purpose. He could again be what the elves wanted, and I forced myself to smile.
Quen looked pained as he stood there, but I couldn't tell if it was because of his injuries or because Trent was behind me on this. "How do you propose she get there, Sa'han?"
Trent looked up, eager to explain. "My father's vault door."
"Perfect!" I exclaimed softly.
"Oh God," Jenks muttered. "They're at it again. I'm not going to get out of this one alive. I know it. I can see the web on the wall already!"
"Relax, Jenks." I took Trent's hand and turned it palm up so I could gently pry his fingers open. "You're not going." My eyes met Trent's, and I took the rings. "You either."
Trent's expression cascaded through about six different emotions, all finally vanishing under a cold calm. "I am a part of this," he warned me.
"Obviously," I said as I backed up out of his easy reach. He was still wearing the matching pinkie ring, and something in me felt like it was a victory. "I'll get the rings working, not you. I know you. You'll get over there, and you'll do something noble and throw everything off plan."
"I will not!"
"You will!" I affirmed. "Besides, if I'm over there slumming in the mall looking for Pierce, everyone will think I'm taking care of Al. If you're there, it will be noticed."
Looking as if he were eating slugs, Trent dropped his head, making his bangs fall into his eyes. He knew I was right, and it was killing him.
"Those are my rings and my door," Trent said, his head coming up and holding his hand out. "I'm going."
Chin high, I refused to back up-but my hand was in a tight fist, hiding them. I had a fleeting memory of having done something like this before involving a key and the counselor's locked office. "It's my old boyfriend, so you stay. I'll get the rings working, and then we can go out to the line and see what we can do. Deal?"
"Ah, Sa'han?" Quen interrupted.
At the we, Trent's entire mien shifted from frustration to sour acceptance. Backing off, he licked his thumb and held it out, a challenging slant to his expression. My heart pounded. "Deal," he said, and I licked my thumb and we pressed them together.
Quen hunched into himself in disgust. Jenks was on his shoulder shedding a weird purple dust, but I was ecstatic. "You won't follow me," I insisted, and Trent looked up from under his bangs again, making my heart stop with his half smile.
"I just thumb promised, didn't I?"
Yes, he had thumb promised, and that he wouldn't dare break. Or I'd throw him down the camp well and leave him there for three days.