I shook my head, glad he wasn't trying to convince me that everything was going to be okay. It wasn't. This was bad. Really bad. Knowing that he understood helped. He had lost his child. How could I even come close to his grief? His frustration? I thought again, If he can function, then I can too.
With a surprising touch on my cheek, he stood up and edged away. "We'll get him back. We'll get them all back."
I could feel a tingle where his hand had been, and I gazed at him, numb. "I don't see how. I can fix the line, but not without Bis. And no one will help me if the line is broken." It was a trap my mind kept circling, and until I broke from it, I was dead in the water.
Still in his coat, Trent pulled Ivy's chair out of the corner. His motions held a restrained excitement as he sat down to retie his shoes. "That's why I'm here. I've been thinking about tonight," he said, glancing up as Jenks flew back in.
"Me too." My voice was a dull flatness compared to his excited eagerness.
"Ku'Sox did a few things tonight to show what he's afraid of," Trent insisted.
"What does it matter? They engineered him to be stronger than everyone," I said, glancing at the books he'd brought. More books. That ought to help, I thought sarcastically, then I looked closer, sitting up and reaching for one. They all had library stickers on them-from the restricted section.
"Hey, these are from the restricted section," I said, taking one. "Did you steal them?"
Trent flushed, the rims of his ears going charmingly red. "No, of course not. They let me take them out."
My eyes slid to the brown paper bag he'd brought them over in. "Out of the restricted section? Of the library?"
"Yes, so please don't get anything on them," he said, moving my cup of chamomile tea to the center counter. "Oh, it's gone cold," he said softly, standing up and taking his coat off.
I still couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that they'd let him take restricted books from the library grounds.
Clearly discomfited, Trent dropped his coat over Ivy's chair. Reaching for his bag of doughnuts, he muttered, "It's amazing what they let you do when you supply a new roof for the children's wing and pay for the salary of the children's events coordinator."
"They let him take restricted books out," I said to Jenks, and the pixy shrugged.
Behind the counter, Trent rustled in his bag. "Ah, would you mind if I ate? I sent the staff home Monday and haven't called them back yet. Ellasbeth can boil water but she won't." He paused. "You don't want any, do you?"
The scent of fried doughnuts was strong. Tearing my gaze from the books, I eyed him standing behind the counter, his head almost touching the hanging utensils. His hair was darker than usual in the electric light, and his face was freshly shaven. Tall and unbowed, the calmness he radiated soaked into me, pushing my panic back to the edges so I could think again. "No, go ahead."
"Jenks, where are the plates?" Trent asked, and the pixy landed on his shoulder to point the cabinet out.
It felt funny with Trent in here, but the pixy kids were keeping it to a dull roar. The scrape of a plate was loud, and Trent put six pastries on it, taking a stark, plain doughnut from the pile when he set the plate before me and moved the books all the way back to the wall.
"Ku'Sox broke our rings," Trent said as if it was important, and I watched him take a bite from his plain doughnut, thinking it was odd seeing him here in my kitchen in his suit and tie at four in the morning. "I think that is significant. He didn't know we were using them as a safety net. He said 'meld your abilities to an elf to best me.' Ku'Sox thought we were using them to join our skills, to make ourselves stronger."
My stomach rumbled at the smell of the fried dough, and hearing it, Trent gestured for me to help myself. I shook my head, eyeing the one with the sprinkles.
"That's how the demons overpowered him before," Trent said, still standing in the middle of my kitchen. "He's afraid of us, demons, elves, anyone, working together. All his actions are to pull the demons apart, break alliances."
"I can't argue with that." Though Trent was clear across the kitchen, I felt as if he was too close, too accessible as he stood there looking good in my church eating a no-frills doughnut.
"And Bis," he said, making my stomach clench. "He didn't take him because he wanted leverage on you. If it was only that, he could have twisted the knife and gotten you to take the curse off right then and there."
I shoved my panic aside. "He took Bis so I couldn't fix the line," I said, and Trent nodded.
"Exactly my thoughts," he said, setting his doughnut with one bite out of it on a napkin from the bag. "He needs it broken. With purple sludge gone, everyone can see the curse he used to damage your line. That's why he can't allow you to fix it. But if you could move all the imbalance at once, you might get the same effect. Would you mind if I made something to drink?"
My lips parted at the new thought. "Sure, go ahead," I said, and he wiped his fingers off on a second napkin, turning to the fridge. Damn, I could move all the imbalance at once. I mean, I knew what my line was supposed to sound like. All I needed to do was bundle up everything that didn't belong and drop it into another line.
Silent, I jiggled my foot as Trent went to the fridge. Jenks was on his shoulder pointing things out. Trent came out with the milk, surprising me. He likes milk with his doughnuts? You learn something new every day. No, hot chocolate, I decided when Jenks darted around the kitchen and Trent followed, collecting sugar, cocoa, and salt.
"You think I can move the entire wad of imbalance without Bis?" I said.
"The hell she can!" Jenks protested, but I sat up, pulse quickening. "She can't line jump. That's what started this!"
"She isn't line jumping, she's moving imbalance," Trent said to Jenks, waving the pixy's dust from the two cups that Trent had pulled from my cupboards and filled with powdered cocoa. "She's already proven she can do that."
I stood up, coming to stand with the counter between us. "I know the signature of the line in the graveyard. I can dump it all there."
Trent looked up from pouring milk into two mugs when Jenks whistled. "Newt is going to be pissed," the pixy said, and my enthusiasm faltered, but only for a moment.
"Ah, is one of those mine by chance?" I asked, and Trent's smile widened.
"Yes."
Jenks hovered between us, a bright shimmer of red-tinted dust spilling from him. "I don't like this," he said. "It sounds risky."
"It's perfect," I said as Trent's spoon clinked, stirring them both. "Once it's moved, anyone can see the curse he used to break it."
"In which case he'll just say you were backing out of a deal?" Jenks prompted.
My shoulders slumped, and I chewed on my lower lip. "Maybe I could borrow Al's wedding rings and we could bind our strength together," I said hesitantly, and Jenks scoffed.
"They don't work between demon and elf," Jenks reminded me, but Trent had set the spoon on the napkin beside his half-eaten doughnut and had gone to his coat.
"We have options," he said as he triumphantly slapped a museum brochure before me. "That is, if you can reinvoke them."
Eyebrows high, I pulled the colorful brochure to me with ELVEN ARTIFACT SHOW emblazoned on it in a metallic mythological script. I knew there was no such collection at the Cincy museum. There was none anywhere. The elves had just come out of hiding. It was then that it clicked and I looked for the date. Quen had mentioned a museum outing at the end of the week. Sure enough, it started this weekend and ran for three months before going on the road.
"Jenks, would you get this for me?" Trent asked, standing before the microwave with his two mugs, and the pixy darted away, hitting the door button with a two-footed punch. Apparently the afternoon they spent together stealing Lucy had changed both their attitudes toward each other. They almost looked like friends. Finally the incongruity of a pixy helping a multibillionaire figure out my microwave was over, and Trent came to the table, the microwave a humming background to Jenks's wings.
I smacked the brochure down before Trent. "A museum show of elven artifacts? You arranged this?"
Jenks buzzed into the hall to settle another argument, and Trent ducked his head to look charmingly embarrassed. "Six months ago. As a show of solidarity and pride in our heritage. I've been slowly convincing the people I know that we need a public expression of our history, and it's gratifying what they have kept. Most of the magic artifacts are defunct, but it is an amazing collection nevertheless. Cincinnati will have the show for three months, and then it will be touring for the next three years while I build a new wing."