I sniffed, pushing the edges of my torn shirt together. “Well, it was me who threw that curse at you. Do it again, and I’ll knock you flat on your ass so hard you won’t get up for a week—ring or no ring.”

Trent jerked, his eyes meeting mine from under his bangs. “About that . . .”

Oh God. Here it came. The excuse for me to keep it on, just for a little bit longer.

There was a soft knock, and Quen sprang forward to take the cart of water bottles an aide came in with. “We should keep him with us,” Quen said as he took it and all but pushed the man back out. “Otherwise, Ku’Sox will keep using him against us.”

I was suddenly a hundred times more thirsty. Keeping Trent with Bis and me would work as long as we stayed a step ahead of him, but why risk it? “I don’t remember including you on this private excursion, Quen,” I said as I strode to the cart and took a bottle. Damn elves thought they ruled the world. I trusted you, I thought, angry as I cracked the seal on one of the waters, downing half of it in one go. It was perfectly chilled, just enough to be cold but not enough to shock me, slipping down smooth as if it were from the fountain of life. Wiping my mouth, I looked at the label. KALAMACK SPRINGS. Figures.

“I trusted you,” I accused, pointing with the half-empty bottle, and guilt poured off Quen, adding to my anger. “I trusted both of you!” I shouted, and Trent came out from behind his desk.

“You will not be mad at Quen,” he said calmly, jerking to a halt when I pointed at him to keep his distance. “This isn’t his fault. I told him to remove the Riffletic rings so you would go for the slavers instead.”

“Son of a bitch . . .” I whispered, feeling the ring heavy on my finger. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“It was the only way you’d reinvoke them!” he said loudly. “Rachel, it’s my only chance of getting out from under Ku’Sox’s boot.”

“What, so you can kill him?” I yelled, and Bis dug his claws deeper into the back of the chair, clearly upset.

“No.” His face scrunched up in embarrassment, and he glanced from Quen to me. “Rachel, the slavers work both ways.”

Confused, I set the water bottle down. “Excuse me?”

Quen cleared his throat, his voice cutting off as Trent raised his hand.

“Shut up, Quen,” he muttered, shocking me. “I should have listened to my gut and included her in my decision from the first. We tried it your way, and it failed miserably. She isn’t a tool. If she was, it would have worked.”