“Turn me into a dark spot on the ever-after floor. Yeah,” I said, picking at a seam in the floor. “I was hoping that once I proved he did it that maybe some of you might . . . I don’t know . . . help me maybe!” I shouted, frustrated.

Chuckling, Al resettled himself. “I would, but it will take at least five, not counting you because you don’t know squat.”

I would have argued with him, but he was right. “Quen will stand with us. And Trent, if we can get him free.”

Al stiffened at Trent’s name. “Elf magic might prevail where demon can’t,” he admitted grudgingly. “As much as I’m loath to admit it, Trent would be the better choice.” He poked at the fire to send up a flurry of copper-colored sparks. “He’s a savage beast with a strong bond to his trickster goddess.” His eyes met mine in warning. “Powerful, but chaotic. Untrustworthy.”

It wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but surprisingly promising, and I eyed him from around my snarling hair. “Are you saying that elf magic is more powerful than demon?”

“I would never admit that,” he said with a guffaw. “But Ku’Sox knows demon magic. Elf magic, from the old wars? Not so much.”

The way he was looking at me made me nervous, and I dropped my eyes.

“Mmm,” he grumbled, apparently satisfied. “Demons acting in concert isn’t enough. To surpass Ku’Sox, there must be a complete melding of thoughts into one action. My rings only work between demons. There’s no way to join an elf soul to a demon.”

There is, I thought, suddenly scared to say it. “Ah, that’s kind of why I’m here . . .” Heart pounding, I extended my arm and opened my palm, the firelight glinting on the rings.

Al leaned forward in interest, his thick bare fingers brushing against mine as he took the rings. “These are . . . Where did you get these?” he said, his black eyes narrowed as he made a fist around them, hatred pouring from him.

My lips parted. Scared, I fought to keep from backing up. His grip on the rings looked tight enough to crush them. My thought went back to what Quen had said about demons perhaps being slaves first. “The museum. I wanted something else, but they were gone when I got there, and these were—” I gasped when his fist clenched. “Al, no!” I shouted, grabbing his hand and trying to pry open his fingers. “Don’t break them! It’s all I have! Please!”

He snarled at me, the lines in his square features heavy and ugly. With a grimace, he yanked out of my grip and threw the rings into the corner. My breath came fast, and I lunged after the twin pinging sounds, scrabbling like a spider as I found first one, then the other.