Ever After

Breath held, I spun to look at Ku’Sox, my hand falling to touch Trent’s shoulder. “Mine!” I shouted, feeling Bis’s weight light on my shoulder and the slave rings burn between us. I fastened on the wild music, remembering the rings’ creation, the ugly promise of domination they held, and I claimed it. Black filth roared in as the rings found their purpose and came truly alive—smut for this ancient magic of stream and wood, song and deviltry. “He’s mine!” I shouted again, and Trent’s head snapped up, his eyes wild as my will dominated him.

Fear slid through me, but the music had grown stronger, not less, and Trent panted, blood leaking from his nose. I didn’t know if I had him or not. “You’re bleeding,” I said, wiping it away with my scarf. His eyes met mine at the soft touch, and a chime seemed to shake the ley line, realigning the universe.

He was mine.

“No!” Ku’Sox raged, hammering on our bubble.

Trent was mine, and scared out of my socks, I extended a hand to help him rise. I was responsible for him, and I didn’t want to be. Was this what Trent felt for his people? He was stronger than I.

“You can back off now,” he panted, and I hastily lifted my domination from his thoughts until Trent sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Sorry.”

“You will not take him from me!” Ku’Sox raged. “I will eat all that you hold dear, I will swallow the sun. I will burn the moon!”

Making a pair of horns with his pinkie and thumb, Trent showed Ku’Sox the back of his hand.

Ku’Sox’s eyes widened at the ancient elven insult. With a cry of outrage, he slammed his foot into our circle, bouncing back and screaming when it repelled him with a burst of ozone-tainted energy. “Mine!” he screamed like child in a tantrum.

“Not anymore,” I whispered, wondering if we should jump out. We were kind of stuck in this circle. The half-moon was rising. If I remembered right, it would be almost straight overhead at sunrise. We had hours to finish this, or Newt would kill me herself.

“Perhaps we should circle him?” Trent suggested, and I wiped my palms on my pants.

“Good idea,” I said, wanting to leave our circle as much as I’d want to jump into a bath of ice. “Pound him into the earth. It’s elven charms he doesn’t know. After you.”

Trent looked at me, and it was all I could do but not laugh for crying. He had the drive, I had the strength, and neither of us had the skill. What in hell had Al been talking about?

“I’ll go,” Bis said, and I reached out after him, cursing my hesitation.

“Bis, no!” I shouted, his tail a whisper across my neck, and then he was through our bubble, darting madly to evade Ku’Sox’s thrown charms.

“Hey!” I cried, and Trent dove through the bubble as well, rolling to a stop behind a slump of rock. I was surprised that the circle around me hadn’t fallen. Perhaps the slave rings enabled us to share the same energy fields.

My head snapped up as wild magic coursed through me and Trent threw a charm. “Adsimulo calefacio!” I shouted, sending my own curse hot on the heels of Trent’s.

Bis flipped in midair to avoid Ku’Sox’s strike, his wings gray in the moonlight. Trent’s spell hit the demon’s raised shield, and the hazy black shattered with the sound of glass. Unhurt, Ku’Sox turned, his eyes widening as my incoming curse hit him square in the chest.

“Yes!” Trent exclaimed, elated as Ku’Sox was thrown back, an ugly gold and black crawling over him, making his back arch. But I wasn’t so confident, and I pulled heavily on the line, stockpiling energy until my head hurt and Bis’s hair stood on end as he landed on a crag of stone.

“Again!” Trent shouted, his face grim, and together we struck.

Ku’Sox jerked, a haze covering him for an instant as he jumped out of the way, and our combined curses hit the empty ground and exploded, light seeming to splinter and fly.

I ducked, throwing myself behind a rock as our curse flew like shrapnel. Fire burned in my mind, and I rose up, horrified. Trent had taken refuge under a bubble, and since our broken curse held his aura, the energy tore right through it.

He was down, his lab coat filthy with rock, the gritty wind shifting his hair about his closed eyes. But he breathed.

“Rachel! There!” Bis shouted, pointing, and I spun, my breath catching as I saw Ku’Sox leaning against a boulder the size of a small car. The demon smiled, hurt but alive.

“This is only making your sunrise harder, love,” he said, and I ran to Trent. I could feel Bis following above.

I slid to a stop, my mind delving deep into Trent’s, running the counter curses before the damage could seep in any further. Trent came to with a snort, jolted to full awareness by my stinging mental slap. The rings made it possible. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that,” Trent said, and I helped him up again, dragging him back into our uninvoked circle.

“You can’t kill me. Therefore, I win.”

Ku’Sox’s words echoed over the dead earth between us, chilling me. Light glowed from the crater that Trent’s and my magic had made, and in the slashes of angry light, Ku’Sox smiled, shadows making him harsh. “You can’t kill me, even with your elf slave,” he said, the rock sliding from under his feet as he stood. “The collective won’t help you. And you—are—dead.”

Bis landed upon Trent, and the lines echoed in my mind. “I’ll jump you out,” the kid said, but both of us shook our heads. It ended here. It ended now.

“Dali-i-i-i!” Ku’Sox screamed at the rising moon. “Newt! Show yourselves, you cowards!” His head dropping, he looked at me with savage eyes from under his hanging hair, clearly shaken from the curse that had landed on him. “I will talk to you, you poltroons . . .”

“Stand up,” I said, poking Trent in the ribs to make him jump. “Fix your hair, will you? You look a mess.”

“Look who’s talking,” Trent said, even as he ran a hand through his hair to arrange it, his missing fingers obvious.

We both stiffened as the energy in the lines shifted. Nearly where the sun would rise in a scant four hours, a round, squat demon misted into existence, tired and slack-faced. “Is it done?” Dali said, facing Ku’Sox and taking in his ragged appearance. “Fix the damned line before there’s nothing left and we’re all . . .” He hesitated, breathing the air as if he could smell me. Or maybe he was smelling Trent. He reeked of cinnamon and wine, almost covering up the stench of burnt amber.

“She’s alive?” he exclaimed, spinning to us, his expression shocked. “You’re alive!”

“I’m alive,” I said, breathing hard. For the moment.

“For the moment,” Ku’Sox muttered, echoing my thought, frowning as Newt misted into existence beside Dali, wearing exactly the same thing I was. Al slumped at her feet, and my heart leaped until I saw the chains about his wrists and the downcast slouch to his shoulders.

“Of course she’s alive,” Newt said, and Al’s head snapped up, his fervent eyes finding mine and tension pulling him straight. “She’s Al’s wonder child,” the demon finished lightly, smacking Al to make him glower at the ass-backward praise.

“Al . . .” I breathed, elated, and Trent stared at me. In my mind, Trent’s hatred for the demon rose up, anger for his missing fingers, his fear for having been helpless. It joined my memories of Al’s awkwardly given kindnesses when none was expected, and then my pity for the loss of his wife, his life, his love, being forced to live in a hole in the ground, an understanding found, a respect granted unasked, vulnerable and fragile.

“Al?” Trent said, and I blinked, not comfortable having shared that with him.

“I-I . . .” I stammered, then shut my mouth, unable to explain. Al was cruel, vindictive, angry, elegant, powerful. He gave me strength, he gave me wisdom, not only about magic, but about myself. He was a lot like Trent, only harsher around the edges.

Sensing my emotions, Trent turned away, head down and grimy hair shifting in the gritty wind. “I will never understand you. How can you forgive so easily?”

“Yeah? Well, that’s what’s going to save both our asses,” I said, hoping it was a prophecy, not a prayer.

“Take her!” Ku’Sox shouted. “Finish her!”

Heart pounding, I shifted my feet to find solid earth beneath the scree. My will strengthened our circle, and I