“Keep him off us,” I said as he took my hands and nodded. “And try not to hog the line!” I shouted, feeling it strengthen around me.

Ku’Sox hesitated, head cocked as I tapped the line and my hair started to float. Letting out a murderous caw, he began to run, guessing our intent.

“Now!” Quen shouted, and I bubbled us, shifting the hue and sound of it to that of the line ten feet away. I knew it by heart now, and it was easy.

I heard Ku’Sox scream in defeat as the beauty of the line took us, and the swirling warmth of the line washed the ugliness of the grove away. Everything went silver in my mind. Quen snapped a bubble around his thoughts, making me wonder how often he’d traveled the lines before.

Home, I thought, recalling the harsh jangle of the chaos I’d made of the line in the garden. It was a mass of orange, blue, black, and red, and though I could see it in my mind, I couldn’t shift the resonance.

Home! I thought again, starting to panic. The damn slavery ring was interfering. Quen, help me tune the bubble to match my aura! I cried out, but he couldn’t hear me, and I couldn’t leave him there.

Quen! I tried again, and a cool/warm thought slid into mine with the bright sparkle of butterfly wings.

Got you! came Bis’s cheerful thought, and with a shimmer, Quen’s and my auras flashed to a strident purple.

I was real. Stumbling, I sucked in a huge gulp of air, shocked when my boots skittered across electric-light-lit tile, not the starlit red slab of cement I was aiming for. I looked up, hearing a groan as Quen hit the floor behind me a second later.

My face became cold, and Trent turned, his rolling chair making a clicking sound as he cocked his head at my battle-dirty clothes and tangled hair.

“This isn’t my garden,” I whispered, and Trent’s smile chilled me to my core.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Trent stood, a hard eagerness obvious on his blond-stubbled, tired-looking face. Fear slid through me, and I hid my hand with the ring behind me. Quen could give him the master ring and, with it, me. Trent would be the most powerful elf in generations. He could save his people. Why would he ever take it off?

“I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Trent said as he swooped to us, his lab coat billowing behind him.

“The deadline was moved,” Quen said. “Sa’han, you were right. This isn’t working.”

“Obviously. If it was, you wouldn’t be here.”

He was reaching for me, and I pulled away, standing before he could help me.