My lips parted in understanding. “The camp. That’s why you were there?”

He shifted reluctantly in his chair, looking suddenly nervous. “Yes.”

I pressed back farther into the cushions, not knowing if I wanted him to answer my next question. “Why … why was I at that camp?”

Trent’s stiff posture eased. “You have a somewhat unusual genetic defect. A good five percent of the witch population has it—a recessive gene which is harmless unless they pair up.”

“One in four chance?” I guessed.

“If both parents have it. And if the two recessive genes pair up, it kills you before your first birthday. My father managed to keep it suppressed in you until you were old enough to handle a full course of treatment.”

“He did this a lot?” I asked, my stomach knotting. I was alive because of illegal genetic manipulation. It was what I had guessed, but now I knew for sure. Maybe I shouldn’t let it bother me. The entire elf race relied on illegal medicine to remain in existence.

“No,” Trent said. “Records indicate that with very few exceptions, he allowed infants with your affliction to die, their parents not knowing there was a cure. It’s rather expensive.”

“Money,” I said, and Trent’s jaw clenched.

“If the decision was based on money, you wouldn’t have seen your first birthday,” he said tightly. “My father didn’t take one cent for saving your life. He did it because he was friends with your father. You and Lee are the only two running about under the sun that he pulled back from that death, and that was because of friendship. He didn’t take a dime for saving either of you. Personally, I’m starting to think he made a mistake.”

“This isn’t making me want to help you,” I said snidely, but Trent gave me a tired look.

“My father was a good man,” he said softly. “He wouldn’t refuse to help your father save your life when your father had already devoted his life to help him save our entire race.”

Frowning, I put a hand to my stomach. I didn’t like what I was feeling. My father didn’t sacrifice his life in exchange for mine—which was a good thing. But he wasn’t the upright, honest, hardworking I.S. runner I had thought. He had willingly helped Trent’s father with his illegal activities long before I got sick.

“I’m not a bad person, Rachel,” Trent said. “But I will eliminate anyone who threatens to stop the flow of money coming in. My research to repair the damage the demons did to my people’s genome isn’t cheap. If we could find an old enough sample, we could fix it completely. But it has degraded to the point where we don’t know even the color of the pieces anymore.”

My thoughts lighted on Ceri, and I steeled my face. The thought of her and Trent meeting was intolerable. Besides, she was only a thousand years old.

Trent’s smooth features went tired with a worry far beyond his years. “If the money stops, the next generation of elves will start to slip again. Only if we find a sample from before the curse was twisted can we fix it completely and my species will have a chance. Your father thought it was a task worth dying for.”