Ever After (The Hollows #11)(111)
Author: Kim Harrison

Etude leaned toward his friend, low elephant rumbles coming from them. Then the gargoyle who had brought Quen nodded, and with a powerful thrust of his back legs, he pushed off and found the air under his wings. Etude, though, remained. "I’m staying," he said, his red eyes narrowing as he looked at the line. "I want to help my son." Wincing, he turned to me. "I might wait at the castle, though, until needed. Burn my scrollwork, that line is awful."

I gave his thick, huge hand a squeeze of thanks. My guilt over having lost Bis grew, but Etude only smiled a black-toothed grin at me, haunches bunching as he made the short flight to land atop the highest point, his wings curving in around him until he looked like a natural part of the roof. That is, until his eyes caught the faint starlight and glowed a savage blood red.

Wild wisps of hair had escaped my braid, and I smoothed them as Quen jumped to my level, his shoes scuffing the gravel. My knees were still shaky, but I didn’t think it was because of the flight here anymore. Elven magic was our best bet to keep Ku’Sox off us. I felt like a battery and I didn’t like it. "Ready?" I said as I brought out the rings.

"It’s making my wisdom teeth vibrate," Quen said as he eyed the line, his wince hard to see in the shadow-light. But he turned to me when the rings clinked, and suddenly the confidence I’d felt in the church vanished. It was more than the fear of Ku’Sox. It was the fear of letting Quen use me like a familiar.

"Perhaps . . ." he said slowly, seeing my reluctance, and I took a fast breath, shoving the smaller worn and dented ring on my finger. I felt nothing from it, and breath held, I extended the ring to him. I trusted Quen. If he betrayed me, Al would kill him.

"Thank you, Quen, for standing with me," I said, and then sucked in my breath as he put the ring on his finger and everything changed.

"Oh God," I whimpered, knees giving way, and Quen reached for me. I jerked out of his reach, stumbling several steps away as I found my balance by myself. His hand touched my shoulder, and I lashed out, driving him away. "Just give me a second!" I shouted, panicked but determined to make this work. My breathing came in short pants as I heard him back up, and only then could I straighten out of my crouch.

"Just give me a second . . ." I said again, still not able to look at him. He was there in my thoughts, and not in a good way. I could sense nothing of his emotions, just a theoretical fingertip on my chi, ready to rip what he wanted from it. And I couldn’t stop him. It wasn’t like Al’s rings at all, where both parties had equal access. These were slavers, and I swallowed hard, trying to get used to it.

The ring around my finger glinted. Al had endured this for how long? Slowly I straightened.

"Are you okay?"

My stomach hurt. Nodding, I looked up to the dark skies. "Let’s do it."

"Trent was right about you," Quen said, clearly uncomfortable as our strengths became one and our will his alone. "You are . . . strong."

Swell. Eyes down, I wavered, my heart seeming to stutter. Wanting to see the line better, I opened my second sight. Quen’s aura shimmered, becoming oppressively clear.

"That is incredible," Quen said as he reached for the retaining wall, a haunted look in his eyes. I wasn’t feeling so good, though, and either seeing my fear in my face or reading it in his mind, Quen pushed from the wall. "Are you sure you’re okay?" he asked, his hand gripping my arms to steady me in the dark.

It was getting easier to tolerate his touch, and I nodded, head still down. "Yes," I said, spinning the ring on my finger to try to make it feel right. "I can’t feel the line. Is there any way you can ease up on your grip?"

"Ah, sorry. How’s that?" he said, and I blinked as suddenly the discordant jangle of a hundred imbalances in the line hit me.

"That’s better," I said, wincing. Now I could really see. The purple line was extruding a bone-chilling cold, even as the event horizon pulled in energy, the atoms and molecules screaming as they were ripped apart. Even the purple of Ku’Sox’s aura shredded to a pale red under its influence. Turning, I looked up at the castle.

"Ready?" I shouted and got a raised wingtip and a rumble in return. "I think that’s a yes," I muttered, placing my feet and facing the line squarely. "If this doesn’t get Ku’Sox’s attention, I don’t know what will."

I winced, one eye screwed shut as I pulled the line into my awareness fully and blocked everything else out. The multitude of the imbalances screamed at me, and I tried to gather them up, but they slipped through my thoughts like butterflies. "It’s not working," I said, eyes opening up to find Quen hovering close and worried.

"Ah, it might be because of the rings," he said. "We’re linked, and I’m not doing anything. I know the general idea, but . . ."

"Oh." Feeling foolish, I faced him, then awkwardly reached out and took his hand. His fingers in mine felt funny, but as I held on, a warm feeling suffused me as his awareness surrounded mine. He didn’t mean to be domineering, but he hadn’t had much practice sharing.

His breath quickened as he tapped into the line, and together we hesitated, taking in the discordant jangle. Bubble the line, I thought, getting no response, then becoming concerned when I wasn’t able to do it myself. Either he had a wall up, or the rings only worked one way.

"Quen, can you lighten up? I’m having a hard time holding on to anything," I said, spinning the ring on my finger. There was a little notch in the metal. If I hooked my thumbnail in it just right, I could spin it almost entirely around my finger and catch it again. Horrified, I stopped, somehow knowing that I wasn’t the first to spin it like that, around and around.

His fingers spasmed in mine. "My apologies. Try again."

As fast as that, a sensation of the line spiraled through me, heady and strong. I snatched at it, pulling it to me. The howling of the imbalance scraped across my nerves, and realizing just how much Quen had been shielding me from it, I gritted my teeth and sifted through the noise to find a bright gold thread in my mind’s eye, a tinge of smut making it almost bearable. This was my original imbalance, and gathering everything up but that, I tuned my aura surrounding it to the imbalance in Newt’s line in my garden.

"Sweet mother of God!" Quen exclaimed as the ache in the line and in my head evaporated. I jumped, startled as the bubble of imbalance suddenly vanished. I felt a pull, and I dug my awareness into the present to keep us from sliding to join it. There was a sliding ping, and then . . . nothing. The event horizon was gone.