Hollows 11 - Ever After (29 page)

“Rachel!” Bis complained, wincing when Ku’Sox raised a hand.

Trent looked up, his arms still about Lucy. The little girl was complaining fretfully to him, her words unclear but serious. Behind Ku’Sox, I could see the women and children beyond the glass.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t save you all.

“I want my freedom,” Ku’Sox said with a disturbing lightness. “I want that putrid elven curse you put on me lifted, and I want it lifted now.”

“I want Bis and Lucy, and a trip home,” I said, and he laughed, wiping a spot of baby drool from his sleeve.

“What horrid things babies are. Leaking from every orifice.”

“You said what you want; well, I want Bis and Lucy!” I demanded again as Nick fidgeted behind Ku’Sox. Trent held Lucy tighter, standing up with her as if he would never let her go. He’d do anything for her. Anything. Kisten had looked at me that way once, and it had killed him. Ceri’s death was both Trent’s awakening and his downfall. He loved, he knew loss, and he would fight to keep what was dear to him, the rest be damned.

Ku’Sox told Nick to stop fidgeting with a sharp look. “Both? No. Trent is a nasty little elf. With Lucy gone, he will become most intractable. See? He’s sullen already. And Bis? Well, that’s obviously no. With him, your chances of preventing the end of the ever-after slip into the double digits.”

Bis seemed to deflate in relief. I didn’t like the way Nick noticed, and I cringed when Ku’Sox half turned to look at the gargoyle. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, flying worm. You’re talking to everyone’s gargoyles and learning the lines because I see fit. When the demons die, their gargoyles go with them, and I will want someone familiar with the old lines so I can reinstate them.”

Reinstate the lines? The words hit the pit of my being with a cold certainty. He was intending nothing less than complete destruction. This wasn’t just to get the demons to kill me then return to business as usual. Ku’Sox was aiming at genocide.

“Then I guess we ought to just duke it out now,” I said as I reached out with my thoughts and tapped the line. It filled me, screaming a discord that melded with my thoughts and flashed through me like grief.
God, please give me another way out.

“I would consider giving you Lucy, though,” Ku’Sox said, glancing at Trent’s pinkie ring, and I froze, not believing I’d heard him right. Trent looked up, hope so deep in his eyes it hurt.

Nick stiffened in his corner. “L-Lucy?” I said, a part of my mind realizing that the scum bucket was afraid of me.
He was afraid!
My air came in with a rush, and I dropped the line, pulling myself straight and seeing Ku’Sox’s fear in the way he held his head, squinted at the light. Lucy for his freedom? Two days ago I would have spit in his face, but now . . .

My gaze shot to Trent, his grip on his child almost frantic.

Smiling as if giving benediction, Ku’Sox inclined his head. “I will give you Lucy,” he said softly, but his hem was shaking. “That is”—he looked at Trent, silent across the room with Lucy in his grasp—“if Trenton Aloysius Kalamack agrees to take the place of his daughter as my
familiar,
and you take that curse from me so I might see the sun again. I do so miss the color yellow.”

Trent stood ashen-faced as Lucy softly complained of nothing. He knew what it was to be a demon slave. I had rescued him from it, and he had saved my life. Now he was going to give his own again to save his daughter, to save two worlds.

“Done,” Trent rasped, his expression riven with grief as he pushed Lucy into my arms. “Take her, Rachel,” he said, his arm stretched out to touch his daughter’s hand as he stepped back, his eyes fixed to the little girl reaching back to him. She leaned toward him, whining, and I held her close, smelling the clean scent of her hair under the stench of burnt amber.

Take the curse from him? He could go anywhere . . .

“I say, done!” Trent shouted. “Send them home!”

Ku’Sox seemed shocked. I know I was. Things were moving too fast, and I jiggled her weight, settling her to me until it felt natural. “I thought elves were known for their patience,” Ku’Sox said, and my gut twisted when he looked at me. “Rachel, is this acceptable to you, providing the elf holds to his end and I have him, body and soul?”

Crap on toast. If Trent was his familiar, he couldn’t help me. That wasn’t even considering that Ku’Sox would have access to everything on my side of the lines. But with Nick, he had that anyway. Torn, I jiggled Lucy. Oh my God. I was going to do it, and I felt light-headed.

“Take her, I beg you.” It was Trent, and I took in his hope, his grief. “Take her,” he whispered again. “I need to know they are safe, my girls.”

“Oh, they will never be safe,” Ku’Sox said, and Trent stiffened.

“They will, or I will not agree!”

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Ku’Sox idly pushed his rolling chair back, gesturing lightly. “As long as you serve me faithfully, why not?”

Trent’s grip on my shoulder tightened, his breath coming fast in the moment of success, but I was having doubts. My eyes slid to Nick, sullen in the corner. I took a breath to answer. Ku’Sox waited, poised. Nick was tense behind him, looking like a spider. Trent was energy chained—frantic. And Bis . . . I held my breath, trying not to be obvious as I watched him signal me to fly, go, flee . . . no, I think that particular motion meant fall back and circle around.

My heart pounded. Bis was learning how to line jump. And with Lucy safe with me, there was only Trent’s life in the balance. He clearly was ready to sacrifice it. The question was, did I trust him enough to give him a chance to kill Ku’Sox? I needed help with my plan, and Quen and Al were still out of commission. I didn’t know who to ask.

“Throw in a trip home for Lucy and me, and you have a deal,” I whispered, and Ku’Sox clapped his hands, springing to his feet to make me drop back several steps, awkward from Lucy’s weight. “But you will stay out of my church and the environs. Swear to it, Ku’Sox.”

“Capital! I agree! I swear!” Ku’Sox said, looking amused, but seeing a black haze blossom on his hand, I bubbled us. Lucy and I weren’t his target, however.

I spun as Trent hit the floor, choking as he grasped his throat. “Hey!” I shouted, backing up with Lucy, the little girl frightened and growing heavy. “You kill him, and all your demon babies are going to die!”

Ku’Sox strode over, and I backed up, breaking my circle. “That is my foot you feel across your neck,” the demon said, leaning over Trent as he gasped. “Serve me without elven trickery, or it will crush your throat, and then I will move on to your children, your family, and everything you hold dear. Do you understand?”

Sprawled, Trent nodded, hatred burning in his eyes, his hand splayed out to show the missing digits that Al had taken from him. “If you harm them, nothing will save you,” he rasped, and Ku’Sox straightened his kimono with a soft hush.

“Good,” he said, looking down at him. “You have spirit. I’ll enjoy it after the ever-after no longer occupies me.” Making a sudden puff of distaste, Ku’Sox reached down, yanking Trent’s pinkie ring off. My eyes widened when he made a fist, opening it to let a shapeless mass of black char ping dully on the tile floor. He’d melted it. Two in a row. “Get up.”

His attention shifted to me, and I held Lucy closer, turning her so she couldn’t see her dad pick himself up off the floor. My feet moved uneasily. I still needed to get home.

“My freedom?”

My eyes flicked uneasily between Trent and Ku’Sox. Lucy felt heavy in my grasp as she cried for Trent. It wasn’t as if I could just pop out and conveniently forget to free him. The curse had been embedded into his DNA and wouldn’t lift easily. The best I could do was modify it. Swallowing hard, I reached out and tapped the line again. I could feel the collective, hovering just outside my awareness, and I let a small portion of myself slip into it. I’d need the strength of them to make any changes, and I was disgusted when I found them waiting, quiet and still in a watchful unease. The sons of bitches knew. They knew.

My head began to throb behind my right eye as the discordant twang the collective had absorbed from the broken lines soaked into everything. Lucy’s crying stopped, and I wondered if she was picking up more than she should. “
Si peccabas poenam meres,
” I whispered, the faint memory of a beating drum and stomping feet drifting through my memory as I began the curse anew. Tingles of wild magic sparked through me, and a hazy lassitude dulled my headache. There was an odd pulling sensation as the curse gathered itself within Ku’Sox.

Ku’Sox stiffened, his shoulders twisting as if something had struck his back. His eyes were alight, and his hands in fists. “Finish it. Free me!”

I licked my lips, my heart pounding. I couldn’t look at Trent. He had taught this curse to me, learned it from Ku’Sox. It could not be untwisted, but it could be given away or modified. “I curse you, Ku’Sox Sha-Ku’ru, to be free of restraint, that you may freely travel between reality and the ever-after at your will for as long as you
leave me and mine alone
!”

The demon’s breath sucked in, and he leaned forward, grimacing at the added restraint.

“That means you stay out of my church, you bastard,” I said, relishing his anger. “You break it, and you’ll find out how the Goddess rewards liars,” I barked at him, heart pounding when a sleepy-eyed presence seemed to swirl through me, laughing languorously before dulling back to slumber. Crap on toast, elven magic was slippery stuff, and I gave a little jump to shift Lucy to a more comfortable position and hide my shudder.

Ku’Sox lifted his chin as if to denounce me. But when he nodded with very bad grace, I sealed the curse. “
Facilis descensus Tartarus.
”

The curse was in Latin, but I knew it was elven magic by the tiny laugh of wicked delight echoing in my mind. It hadn’t come from the collective, and Ku’Sox shuddered as the wild magic slipped reluctantly from me and onto him, the last bit twanging from my outstretched hand. My headache came back, pounding, and before I dropped the line, I felt the souls of the demons in the collective withdraw. They were somber and still, unusual for the usually vocal and self-assured demons. They’d agreed to this, but it had the transparent feeling of ambiguity.

Ku’Sox breathed slowly, and in the corner, Nick hunched into a small shadow of fear. “It will do,” Ku’Sox said, and then his eyes became slate gray. “Leave. You smell like baby shit.”

Lucy was starting to fidget, and I glanced at Trent. He looked crushed and beaten. “I told you I wanted a jump home. Al can’t do it,” I said, deciding he would refuse unless I gave him a reason. “He burned himself at the bottom of your purple sludge.”

Ku’Sox looked me up and down in surprise. “And he got out? How?”

He wasn’t wearing the smile I expected, and I patted Lucy, rocking like I’d seen parents in the grocery store line do. “Through his wedding rings.” Ku’Sox’s eyes went wide in amazement, and I shook my head, backing up. “Send us home,” I demanded. “
Now.
”

Trent’s eyes closed, and I saw his lips move in a silent “Thank you,” but if he was thanking me or the Goddess he didn’t believe in, I didn’t know.

“Go,” Ku’Sox said curtly, and I tensed, slapping a bubble of thought around Lucy and myself as I felt his broken, slimy presence enfold us and push us from his reality. For a moment, I thought he might leave us halfway there and I’d have to chance shifting my aura myself, but then the stink of ever-after fell away, and the ground grew firm under my feet. The late-morning sun spilled through the new spring leaves, and I shivered, feeling winter in the spring damp.

“Home again, home again, jiggity jig,” I said, patting Lucy.

“Aant achel!” the little girl said, laughing as she patted her middle. “Tickles!” I could only assume she meant the sensation of the line through her, but then her eyes widened as she saw the sleeping gargoyles perched everywhere. “Shhh,” she said. “Biz-z-z-z nap.”

I shifted her weight, not wanting to put her down and risk her trying to touch one. “That’s right,” I said as I headed for the church. “Bis is napping. Let’s go call your abba.” Oh God. Quen. Trent had been fond of Ceri, but Quen had loved her with the depth reserved for one who thought he’d never love at all. For once, I was glad he was injured and unable to do magic. If he had been otherwise, he’d likely be dead by now, too, having pitted himself against Ku’Sox.

“Abba!” Lucy crowed, wiggling in delight before she went still in thought. “Cookie?” she added hopefully, and my eyes filled as Lucy patted the dandelion fluff tattoo on my neck.

The sun was shining and I was home, but the reality of what had happened was falling on me anew. Ceri had died protecting Lucy. I’d make sure that Lucy knew that when she was older. “And a cookie,” I said miserably as Jenks’s kids found us, distracting the little girl and making her stretch for their clattering wings and bright voices.

I slowly trudged to the church through the pixy dust, wondering if the kitchen, at least, was baby proofed. I’d have to move my splat gun, bare minimum.

What had I been thinking? Ku’Sox was free. Ceri and Pierce were dead, Trent was a demon slave, again, and the son of a bitch was free.

Chapter Seventeen

T
he late afternoon sun was gone from the kitchen as I sat at the table, depressed as I stared at the defunct disguise amulet perched in my fingertips. I wasn’t in the best of moods to be trying something so difficult as breathing life into a ley line charm that had been dead for more than ten years, but I wanted some practice before I tried this again with some rich elf’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom.

I’d already found the charm I wanted from the brochure, checking the description and the owner’s claims of powers against an account found in one of the books Trent had gotten from the library. Quen was going to bring it over when he came to pick up Lucy. He was overdue, and I hoped everything was okay.

“Rings,” I said sourly, looking at the charm balanced on my hand. Why couldn’t it be a sword or whip or something pointy? But no, elves apparently had a thing for rings, and the set I’d chosen seemed perfect, allowing a strong connection that would allow me to join my strength to Quen’s or Trent’s. It wasn’t made for war, and I hoped that meant elves
and
demons could use it. That Al would be healed up enough to help me was nothing I wanted to count on.

“If, if, if,” I muttered as I stared at the charm balanced on my fingertips. I was putting the F back in
if,
and I didn’t like it. Time was stealing my buffer for when
if
turned to
no.
I was starting to hate two-letter words.

I’d thought that practicing reinvoking old charms would be a good idea. I just wished I wasn’t blowing my dad’s old charms to hell, one by one. It didn’t help that I was trying to be quiet as Jenks read to Lucy in the back living room, or that a handful of pixies were playing in my dad’s dusty box, giggling and whispering as they plotted mischief. Between the catchy rhymes from next door, the giggling whispers, and me thinking Jenks had hidden Pierce’s old watch from me so I couldn’t try to resurrect him, it was hard to concentrate.

Indecision had made me cranky, but I figured if Pierce was able to be summoned back to a temporary life, he would be changing my ringtones. My phone had been distressingly silent. Ceri and Pierce were gone, and my heart ached more than I could have imagined.

Stifling a sneeze from the dusty box, I exhaled, balancing the defunct disguise ley line charm and pushing my aura off my hand. The weird mental gymnastics needed to shift my aura to different shades was getting easier, but leaving my hand mostly bare of protection made it ache.

“Hey!” I shouted when the flap of the box flipped out, almost hitting me. Dust rolled up, and I sneezed, earning six high-pitched “bless-yous” from the pixies giggling inside. “Okay, everyone out!” They rose up, a charm between them as they apologized, begging to stay. “Out,” I reaffirmed, holding my hand under the charm, and they dropped it. The tarnished silver fell into my hand, a pool of gold pixy dust seeming to warm it as they apologized again.

“Out, and stay away from Lucy! She’s finally settled down!” I called after them, and they were gone, out through the flue in the back living room if the squeals of Lucy’s delight were any indication. I relaxed a bit as I listened to Jenks’s voice murmur in rhyme, soothing as I set the charm back in the box. Wiping my nose, I sneezed again, but it was only a sneeze. I didn’t expect to hear from Al until it was too late. I was on my own, and I thought it ironic that elves were going to help me save the ever-after and all demonkind.

Exhaling, I emptied my mind of everything but the ring of metal perched in my hand, imagining the smallest whisper of red I could puddling under it. With just the barest nudge, I sent a tiny mote of aura up to the amulet. I held my breath as my aura drifted closer, the glyphs etched into the charm beginning to glow. My heart pounded, and I squinted as the ping of energy grew closer, closer, almost touching the metal. A glowing haze over the amulet moved faster, and when my aura touched the charm . . .

“Ow!” I shouted as my hand cramped up. Jolts of energy darted through my fingers as the full spectrum of my aura raced to protect my hand, and I dropped the charm. From the window came a tiny shattering of glass.

“You okay?” Jenks called, Lucy’s voice rising as well, mimicking his tone perfectly though the words were nonsense.

“Fine!” I exclaimed, frowning when I looked at the window. The brandy snifter on the sill was busted, Al’s chrysalis amid the thick shards. “Nice.” Setting the defunct amulet aside, I stood, my nose wrinkling at the burnt amber smell coming off the chrysalis.

“Rachel?” Quen’s voice called, strong but faint from the front of the church, shortly followed by the slamming of the door into the wall. “Are you in back?”

A bittersweet feeling took me, and I plucked the large chunks of glass out of the sink and dropped them in the trash. “Yes!” I exclaimed, and Lucy mimicked my call again.

A feminine clatter of high heels in the hallway gave me pause until I remembered Ellasbeth. I barely had time to run a hand over my hair before the woman skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, her eyes bright, her lips parted, hair a mess and her coat buttoned wrong. “Where?” she said, her eyes roving my kitchen and my empty arms.

“Abba?” Lucy called from the back living room, and Ellasbeth spun. “Abba!” It was demanding this time, and Ellasbeth bolted.

“Oh! My baby!” she said, but she was gone and I was alone, wondering how this was going to go over. Lucy probably didn’t remember her. Sure enough, frightened, intolerant baby protest rose amid Ellasbeth’s dramatic tears. “Lucy! Are you all right? I missed you so much! Look at you. You smell terrible, but I missed you so much. Oh, you got so big!”

I probably didn’t smell all that good either, and I shoved the window open a crack to let the cool spring air pool on the floor. In the back room, Lucy began to fuss in earnest, her complaints almost unheard over Ellasbeth. “It’s going to complicate things,” Jenks’s voice came softly from the hall, mixing with Quen’s footsteps. “We just have to be more careful.”

Jenks and Quen came in as I turned from the window, Ray on Quen’s hip, looking sweet with her dark hair and in her tartan kilt and hat. Ceri’s death came rushing back, and suddenly tears blurred my vision. Damn it, I hadn’t wanted to cry, but seeing him there with his motherless child and knowing that the girl would grow up without Ceri’s love was almost too much to take.

“Don’t,” Quen said raggedly as Jenks hovered uncertainly at his shoulder, and I forced my eyes wide, sniffing the tears back. Quen’s own eyes glistened, the limitless pain in his soul showing. “Please don’t,” he said stoically. “I’ll grieve when the war is over. I can’t afford it now.”

I nodded, head down as I shoved my heartache away.
War.
That was about right. Quen looked capable in his short leather jacket and cap, like a bad boy grown up with a ’79 Harley parked in a three-car garage and a huge mortgage. The child on his hip somehow worked perfectly. Grief shimmered under his tight jaw and haunted eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling helpless as he came into the kitchen and set Ray on the center island counter, his hand never leaving her, steadying her as she sat upright and silently watched the pixies who had come in with them. “None of this was your fault.”

“It feels like it is.”

But it wasn’t, and I leaned against the sink, aching at the sounds of Ellasbeth reuniting with her child. It hurt knowing Ceri never would. The pixies in the rack were taking turns dusting different colors, and Ray was riveted. Both Quen and Jenks began to look uncomfortable as Ellasbeth’s noises became louder.

Quen steadied Ray, and remembering Jenks’s cryptic comment when he had come in, I said, “So, what’s up, Jenks? More trouble?”

Sitting on the faucet, Jenks frowned. “Jax is around.” The draft from the window pushed his depressed copper dust from him like a wayward aura. “The kids heard his wings not five minutes ago. And where Jax is, Nick probably follows.”

“Ku’Sox is trying to get around our agreement,” I said as I went to get a paper towel from the roll we kept on the table, a must when living with pixies. Ku’Sox had Trent, body and soul. He was also uncursed, which meant he didn’t need Nick anymore. That made the slimy man dangerous because he would be trying to prove to Ku’Sox that he was still worth something.

The rip of the paper towel was loud as I listened to Ellasbeth say, “Mama, not Abba. Mama, Lucy. Mama.” I couldn’t help my frown. Ceri was her mama, not Ellasbeth.

Jenks flitted to the counter, his wings still as he walked to the edge. “Don’t worry, Rache. We won’t let crap for brains or Jax close enough to know what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Jenks,” I said as I dampened the paper towel and wiped the inside of the sink to get the tiny shards of glass. I had the beginnings of a plan that hinged on two rings I might not be able to use even if I could get them reinvoked.

Quen’s guilty frown when I turned back around stopped me cold. “What?” I said flatly, and he winced. Jenks clattered his wings aggressively, coming to hover beside me. Together we made a united front, Ellasbeth’s continued efforts to get Lucy to say mama an ugly backdrop.

Grimacing, Quen crouched with Ray, setting her on the floor, and gruffly saying, “Go say hi to your sister.” Ray leaned forward into a crawl for the hallway, hesitating to study the feel of the circle I’d gouged out of the linoleum before crossing it.

“Ray!” Lucy crowed, and the little girl’s feet disappeared with a gurgling giggle.

My faint smile faded as Quen rose, his eyes going to the scorch marks, then the ley line charms sitting next to the dusty box. “What aren’t you telling us?” I demanded, and he clasped his hands before him.

“How badly do you need that particular pair of rings?”

Jenks rose up with a sound of disgust, and I threw the towel with the glass shards away, letting the cabinet door slam. “Pretty bad,” I said tightly. “Why?” I couldn’t tell if his grimace was because of the rings or because Ellasbeth was now crying at the girls’ enthusiastic reunion.

“Ah, the family that promised their use won’t give them to us now that Trent is missing.”

Great. That’s just freaking great.

Ellasbeth’s soft, one-sided tearful conversation filtered in from the living room as Quen reached for a chair and sat down. It was unusual, but he was still recovering from the beating he’d taken Monday morning. He’d be on the cusp of having his aura back at full strength tomorrow. It sat sour in me that I’d be risking Ray growing up with no parent at all, but I needed someone to watch my back, and Quen would be shamed if I didn’t ask him.

“I’ll talk to them again,” Quen said, clearly embarrassed. “Unless you want a different pair?”

I frowned. The only other pair that had any chance of making a strong enough connection between elf and demon was a pair that touted itself to be demon slavers. “I don’t know how much it’s going to matter,” I said, frustrated as I started tidying, dropping my dad’s old charms into the box one by one. “I’m having a hard time getting anything to reinvoke.” Friday. I had until Friday night. “What do you mean they won’t let me use their stupid rings?” I blurted suddenly, ticked. “Don’t they know this is for the good of all elfkind!” Quen’s eye twitched at Ellasbeth’s ongoing passive-aggressive conversation with the girls aimed at us, not them. “Don’t you have some kind of authority in his absence? I can probably move the imbalance, but without some power to back it up, I’m going to get smeared into a dark stain on an ever-after rock before any other demon can come out to verify Ku’Sox was behind it!”

Quen lifted a hand and let it fall, clearly at a loss. Jenks just shook his head and darted out of the room, his dust a bright silver. Yelling was getting me nowhere, and tired, I leaned back against the sink. Ivy would be back tonight. Maybe we could just go steal the damn rings.

Rex came in to curve around my ankles, and I ran a hand over my face.

“Can’t you simply explain to the demons what Ku’Sox is doing?” Quen said. “They aren’t stupid. Surely one of them can spot you. Al maybe?”

I never thought I’d
ever
see the day he would recommend a demon help me, and I smiled. It was short-lived, though. “No,” I said flatly. “They’re afraid down to the last one, and I’m not going to count on Al’s aura being full strength in time.” Quen’s eyebrows rose, and I wiped my hands and leaned into the center counter. “They know what Ku’Sox is up to, better than I do. But the Rosewood babies Nick stole are Ku’Sox’s bribes, life rafts for the demons who back him. They’ll take a sure risk-free bet that might get them permanently in reality over standing up to Ku’Sox and possibly losing everything.”

I hesitated, watching Rex make a slow, nonchalant way to the other side of the kitchen, her tail up and whiskerless face searching. In a fumbling, unbalanced jump from her lack of whiskers, Rex leaped onto the counter by the sink. I smoothly lifted her and set her back on the floor. The tip of the cat’s tail twitched in displeasure as she stared up at the chrysalis. “I have to empty the line of the imbalances and survive long enough for the other demons to agree he broke it. Ku’Sox is stronger than me. Stronger than Newt. Really smart, huh? Making a child that no one can control?”

Quen exhaled in thought, and my stomach knotted. There were too many ifs. Too many maybes. I turned to the cupboard to get something to cover the chrysalis with. “If they don’t give me the rings, I’m just going to go steal them.”

The scrape of the glass going over the chrysalis was loud, and the silence grew as the pixies sang to Lucy and Ray, captivating them—and getting Ellasbeth to finally shut up. On a sudden impulse, I twisted Trent’s pinkie ring off and shoved it under the glass with the chrysalis. Two days. Two freaking days. I didn’t have the time to steal some dumb rings.

Jenks darted in, wincing at his offspring’s noise. “You’re overthinking this,” the pixy said as he came to rest on Ivy’s monitor where he could see the kitchen and a slice of the living room, too. “I say you get the rings, reinvoke them, forget the line, and just pop over to Ku’Sox’s lair so you and Trent can kill the sucker.”