“Prince of the elves, eh?” Al said as his heavy hand took my elbow and shifted me to look east.

“Yup,” Trent said, and I shivered as his music fell through my mind. I knew what to do with it. I had only to speak.

“And you are the world breaker,” Al said to Bis, and the gargoyle’s grip on me tightened.

“No!” he exclaimed, delighted. “Really?”

“And I’m your sword,” I added. I had once been Trent’s sword, too, when he was on his elf quest.

“You still are,” Trent whispered, reading my mind through the bond of the rings.

I sighed. “And what am I to you, Al?”

“My maid,” he said brightly. “Shall we do this?”

I let the bubble fall. We would meet the next day free, or dead.

Ku’Sox snarled at us, and I thought he looked like a dog. “The moon is rising! Rachel, face me and die!”

“Quite right!” Al said. “Make war when the moon rises. Make love when it sets.” He winked at me, and I gathered the line to me. “Ku’Sox, you slimy little worm! Now you will see what a demon is!”

“By the Goddess!” Trent cried as my knees collapsed and I fell, the serpent of black magic unwinding from my head. The power of the demon bands was twofold, not just each of us having our strength combined, but instinctively knowing what the other was doing. It was beautiful. It made us deadly. It was an ancient war machine. The rings were made for this. And now we had access to the weapons vault.

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Up! Stand up!” Trent muttered, his tight grip on my arm pulling me upright. Dazed, I felt Trent steady me as Al metaphorically cleared his throat, opening up his arsenal of black charms stored in the collective more than five thousand years ago during the bloody war between his people and Trent’s.

Ugly black monstrosities rose and fell in my mind, charms to mutilate, break, and destroy by playing upon the base desires, guilt, and fears of another. It was numbing, and I felt the alien desire to crush rise up in me. Al’s presence was smothering.

I leaned on Trent and opened my mind to him.

With a whimper, we both fell as Al’s bearing sucked in Trent. “Stand up!” Al demanded, and we did, overshadowed and panting. It was getting easier to bear. “We have a worm to crush!” Al cried out, his eyes alight with the promise of vengeance.

“I’m okay,” I said softly, then lifted my chin, accepting who I was and the history of those who came before me. I may not have written these hideous expressions of hate, but I understood them, even as I shuddered at their monstrosity.

Ku’Sox didn’t have a clue or a prayer.