Chapter
12
My brain came to a
screeching halt. "Run that by me again.”
"I was told that a
geis had been placed on you to protect
your virtue as your ward protected your life. But as a precaution
against anything going wrong, an escape clause was added. If you
slept with Mircea or someone of his choosing, the spell was
broken.”
My mind reeled. That
was it? That was the big secret? It seemed ridiculously simple, not
to mention undermining the whole point. “But why would he do that?
He wants to control me!”
Tomas smiled
bitterly. “No doubt. But through so clumsy a device as a spell?” He
shook his head. “It would hurt his pride, Cassie. Not to mention
that controlling someone as powerful as the Pythia with such a
clumsy stratagem would be extremely dangerous. Why do you think the
mages take initiates so young, and brainwash them throughout
childhood? I am sure they would prefer to use a spell to keep them
in line, if such a thing were possible. But the Pythia’s power
might override it, and the controller become the controlled. I
cannot imagine Mircea risking that!”
“But why place the
geis on me, then, if he never intended
to use it?”
“To protect your
chance to become Pythia. A brief affair could have ruined
everything, for you and for him. The geis seemed the simplest way to ensure that didn’t
happen. And to afford you added protection at Antonio’s. You did
not know about this?”
“I didn’t even know
about the geis until yesterday!” I sat
up abruptly, my mind racing at the implications. I could break the
geis by sleeping with Tomas. It was so
simple that it was ludicrous—if he was telling the truth. But Tomas
didn’t need to resort to lies to get a woman in his bed, and his
explanation made sense. I’d thought it strange all along that
Mircea would think he needed magical help to manipulate someone as
young and clueless as me, especially when I was already infatuated
with him. There were far more subtle ways of exercising control,
and he was master of them all.
Of course, even if
Tomas was right, there was no way to know whether Mircea’s
get-out-of-jail-free card would work on a double spell. And even if
it did, there was a catch. A big one. If I broke the geis, I’d fulfill the ritual’s requirements and be
stuck with the Pythia’s position permanently. That would put paid
to any hope of passing the power on to someone else, or of working
something out with the Circle. Heirs could be unseated, as Myra had
found out, but the Pythia held the position for life. If I
completed the ritual, the mages would have no choice but to kill me
if they wanted their candidate on the throne. And the same was true
of Pritkin, if he really did favor Myra.
Unfortunately, things
didn’t look any better if I kept the geis. It was almost certain that the Senate would
find me sooner or later. They had too many resources, including
Marlowe’s intelligence network, for me to have any illusions about
that. And even if Tomas was right and Mircea couldn’t use the spell
to control me—a big “if,” in my opinion—he also couldn’t break it.
The dúthracht had lived up to its
reputation and gone haywire, and there was no telling what would
happen if the bond completed itself. It was supposed to be under
the control of one of the participants, but what happened if, as
seemed to be the case, neither of us was in the driver’s seat? I
didn’t know what a geis in control of
itself might do, and I didn’t want to find out.
One thing was
certain: if we met again, Mircea and I would certainly complete the
bond. It was embarrassing to have to admit, but the only reason we
hadn’t done it already—and in front of about a thousand
spectators—was his self-control, not mine. And that would complete
the ritual, which would bring me back to square one.
“Damn it!” Both
options were unacceptable, but there wasn’t a third. There was no
way to get rid of the geis and avoid
completing the ritual. Or, if there was, I had no way of finding it
stuck in a cell in Faerie.
Everywhere I looked,
I hit a brick wall. I hated not having options, of having someone
or something deciding my life for me. It had been that way as far
back as I could remember. Either Tony or the Senate or the
goddamned Fey were making me a victim, taking away my right to
choose. I’d never had the power to fight back, to forge my own life
or just to keep myself and the people I cared about safe. I
couldn’t even deal with one rogue initiate! And, I realized, if
things continued as they were, I never would.
“What is it?” Tomas’
hand was delicately stroking the small of my back, trying to
soothe, to comfort. It was comforting, I admit, but not soothing.
Neither the ritual nor the geis cared
if he was hurt, or if I was ambiguous about the idea of having sex
in a dank, chilly dungeon with Billy probably listening in. The
compulsion to turn around and take Tomas up on the offer he’d been
making ever since I met him was so strong, I had to bunch my fists
in the coarse blanket beneath me to keep them still.
I forced my mind back
to the problem. I’d been telling myself that I could pass the power
on to someone else, but who exactly would that be? There didn’t
appear to be any other candidates for the job who could be trusted
not to fall under the control of the Circle or of Pritkin’s
faction, neither of which I trusted. There was a war on, and even
the thought of the power passing into the hands of someone like
Myra made me cold.
Tomas wrapped his
arms around me, drawing me against the sultry cocoon of his body.
My hand moved of its own accord to caress the warm, golden skin at
the side of his knee, just where the slope of that long, strong
thigh began. It would be so easy to give in, to feed the hunger I’d
felt for so long. And did it really make that much difference? The
Circle was already trying to kill me. Could I believe them if they
offered a deal? Wouldn’t it be better from their point of view to
do away with any competition for their initiates, rather than leave
someone like me around? If I was going to be hunted anyway, I
vastly preferred to be in the strongest position possible. And that
was doubly true when dealing with Myra.
“Are you sure you’ve
thought this through?” I asked Tomas seriously. “There could be
repercussions for helping me complete the ritual. The
mages—”
Tomas tasted the
inside of my wrist with the tip of his tongue. “I’m
sure.”
“But what
about—”
He smiled wryly.
“Cassie, you know what hunts me. Do you truly believe I am
concerned about the Circle?”
He had a point. And,
as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I still had feelings for
him—or, to be more precise, for the person I’d thought he was. I
really doubted that someone old enough to remember the fall of the
Incan Empire bore much resemblance to the sweet street kid I’d
known. I didn’t know the real Tomas, who he was when the Senate
wasn’t pulling his strings. But they weren’t here now. For once,
both of us were free of them, even if it was only because we were
prisoners elsewhere. And despite that, he still seemed to want
me.
“The choice is yours,
Cassie. You know how I feel.”
I looked at him
searchingly. “Do I? Louis-César commanded you to come to me. All
those months, you were doing a job.”
Tomas’ hands stilled.
“And am I still doing that job, Cassie? Is this all an elaborate
hoax to persuade you to accept a position you do not
want?”
“No.” Vamps might not
have the same reaction to pain as humans, but no one would allow
himself to be carved up like that, not for any reason.
He pulled me against
him, his eyes burning. “Do you think I am trying to win back the
Consul’s good graces by completing my original mission? Is that
it?”
I didn’t answer
immediately. Tomas had betrayed me before, and although I’d
convinced myself that he’d done the wrong thing for the right
reasons, what if he hadn’t? I knew for a fact that he was a good
actor—most of the old vamps were. If they weren’t born that way,
they acquired the skill through centuries of practice. But it
didn’t make sense for him to be playing me. Even if the Senate was
willing to wipe the slate clean and take him back, that wasn’t what
Tomas wanted. His main goal was to be free of his master’s control
in order to kill Alejandro. No matter how much they wanted me back,
the Senate wasn’t going to make war on another sovereign vampire
body—especially not when they already had a war on their hands.
They couldn’t give Tomas what he truly wanted, and I didn’t believe
he’d sell me out for less.
“No,” I finally
admitted. “I don’t think that.”
“But you don’t trust
me.”
It wasn’t a question,
so I didn’t answer it. What could I say? He was right.
Tomas laughed
mirthlessly. “How can I blame you? You put your trust in me once,
and I lied to you. Anything I say now would only be
words.”
“I’d still like to
hear them,” I said tentatively. Tomas had given me an explanation
for the betrayal, but he’d said nothing about us. I needed to hear
that not everything about our time together had been a
lie.
He kissed me lightly,
just below the indentation of my throat. “All my life, I only knew
people who wanted something from me. When I was young, it was
protection and a chance for revenge. After Alejandro turned me, it
was skill in battle and a knowledge of the land that he didn’t
possess. For Louis-César, I was a living trophy, a testament to his
power.” He caressed my hair, lightly, reverently. “Only you ever
cared about me as a person, without wanting anything in return.
Te amo, Cassie. Te
querré para siempre.”
I don’t speak
Spanish, but I got the idea. Once I’d have given a lot to hear
those words, in any language, but now my feelings were too confused
to even begin sorting out. I didn’t know what I felt, much less
what to say. “Tomas, I—”
“Don’t. I want to
remember this, just as it is. I will have to go back soon and I do
not want to take lies with me, no matter how sweet they sound. The
Senate deals in lies. This”—he rested his cheek against my
chest—“this is real.”
“You don’t have to go
back, Tomas! I told you, we’ll find a way to hide
you.”
He laughed, and it
sounded more genuine this time. “Little Cassie, always looking out
for everyone. I am the one supposed to be rescuing you, didn’t you
know? Is that not how the fairy tales go?” His expression darkened
suddenly. “But why should you think that way? I have been little
enough use so far!”
“You saved me from
Tony’s thugs, or doesn’t that count?” Tony had sent a crew to the
nightclub where I’d been working to take me out. They didn’t
succeed partly because the Senate had assigned Tomas to guard me.
Despite everything, I hadn’t forgotten that he’d saved my life. But
apparently he had, because he brushed it away with a
gesture.
“You would have
managed. You always do.” His expression grew fierce. “Cassie, if
you doubt how I feel, let me show you! Let me do this for
you!”
I let my hand comb
through the silky mass of his hair. The Pythia’s position might be
a cage, but at least it was one over which I’d have some say. I’d
be stuck with the job, but I’d retain control over the rest of my
life—something the geis would deny
me.
“You’ll hurt
yourself,” I protested as Tomas’ breath started to come faster. A
first-level master could heal almost anything, but there was no way
Tomas was over his injuries already.
A rumble of laughter
sounded in my ear. “It hurt far more, seeing you every day, being
surrounded by your scent for months, and not being allowed to touch
you. I lived with you for half a year, yet I never saw your body. I
will remember this,” he said wonderingly, his hand gliding down my
side.
“I won’t risk hurting
you,” I insisted, trying to sound stronger than I
felt.
Tomas laughed again,
and laid me back against the cot. He bent over me, his hair forming
a tent around our faces that was intimate instead of suffocating.
Only his eyes were clearly visible, brimming with humor. “I think
we can do this,” he whispered, “if you promise to be
gentle.”
I couldn’t help it—I
laughed, and the next moment he was kissing me with an intensity
that left me breathless. I slid my arms under the heavy mane of
hair and clasped them around Tomas’ neck. His grip was strong but
careful, and although I could feel the weight of him against my
leg, hot and hard and ready, he held back, waiting for me to make
the first move. Suddenly, there was no more doubt. It wasn’t just
the geis tugging at me. It wasn’t just
that I wanted a way out of the current mess. I wanted
him.
“Do it,” I said,
“quick, while we have time.”
“Quick is not what I
had in mind,” Tomas said, frowning. “Particularly not the first
time.”
“We don’t have time
for anything else,” I said impatiently. For once the geis, the power and I all agreed on something, and
Tomas was being difficult.
I wrapped my hand
around him and was rewarded with a deep shiver and the wonderful
feel of sweet, ardent flesh against my palm.
I desperately wanted
to watch that thick shaft disappear into me. I knew it would
stretch me to the limit, that the fit would be tight, the friction
maddening, and that sounded perfect. I wanted to feel him work his
way into me, wanted the pressure, craved the burn.
“It will hurt you,”
he protested, his voice ragged.
I ran my tongue up
the column of his neck. “Let it.”
Tomas was trembling
but was stubbornly not giving in. I decided to forget about talking
and persuade him another way. I kissed him, my mouth hungry against
his, then slid down to fasten my teeth firmly on the joint of his
neck and shoulder. It was exactly where a vampire would bite, but
instead I sucked some of that taut skin into my mouth, marking him.
I let my hands wander where they would, memorizing the contours of
the muscle and sinew under that warm, satin skin. Then, without
warning, I bit down.
Tomas’ breath had
been making low growls in his throat, but at the feel of my teeth
sliding into his flesh, he groaned. Judging by the way the hardness
pressing into my hip expanded in a sudden leap, it wasn’t in
protest. His narrowed eyes glittered when I finally released his
neck. “You don’t fight fair,” he complained, his voice dark and
heavy. He drew in a deep breath, released it and slid a finger
inside me. I gasped at the unexpected invasion, and arched,
tightening convulsively around him. “Not fair at all,” he said
hoarsely.
I tangled my hands in
his hair as a talented tongue replaced the finger. He drew my flesh
into his mouth, the suction pulling my hips with it, causing me to
fall into a rhythm I couldn’t even think about resisting. He pushed
my legs wider for better access, until one was dangling inelegantly
off the cot. I didn’t care—the sight of him devouring my body made
my breath catch almost as much as the sensation did.
My world narrowed to
that luscious mouth; that slow, wet glide; those big, strong hands.
Warm, rough palms smoothed again and again over the muscles of my
abdomen as if they couldn’t stop, then finally slid to my hip,
slowly kneading the trembling muscle they found there. God, a girl
could fall in love with those hands.
His mouth felt like
liquid flame as he explored me, finding places that sent shock
waves of ecstasy through my body. I gasped softly, amazed by the
gentle, intimate examination, the deep, delicate touch. I collapsed
back against the mattress and let those wet touches drag me under.
Surges of pleasure rippled up my spine as he caressed me from the
inside, and suddenly the angle and pressure were perfect. It seemed
like his mouth was everywhere, tasting, sucking, touching, filling.
He polished his performance quickly, picking up the clues from my
body, noting what made me cry out and repeating it until sunbursts
of pleasure started exploding behind my eyes. Every move of his
lips seared along my nerves until it threatened to take the top of
my head off.
“Tomas! Please!”
Before I’d finished speaking, he had changed positions and was
poised over me. He stopped, struggling for control, and I growled
at him. Finally he moved forward, sinking slowly into me. And, God,
it was good—no, better than good, if the sparks behind my eyelids
were anything to go on. He had laid me open to a dance of sensation
with his hands and tongue alone, but the feel of him moving into my
body was even better, stretching, wonderfully filling, remaking my
flesh until I fit him like a glove.
He was ample enough
to be a tight fit, but his firm flesh was smooth and yielding,
molding to mine with only a slight ache when he moved across skin
abraded in the attack. But he bit his lip, keeping all that power
on a thin leash, his breath coming in ragged gasps from the
excruciating care he was taking. He slid forward a scant half-inch
at a time, warming me by fractions when I wanted the whole searing
length of him. But finally he was there, nestled fully within me,
radiating heat to my very core. His eyes were closed, his long
lashes sweeping his flushed cheeks as he held himself motionless
for a long moment. He left me breathless.
His entrance hadn’t
hurt, but waiting for him to move, to shift position, to do
something before I completely lost my mind, did. When he started
withdrawing again, with that same agonizing slowness, my patience
broke. I twined myself around him as he pulled out, then suddenly
thrust up to meet him, sinking him completely inside me again in a
single, groan-inducing stroke.
Tomas looked both
surprised and vastly relieved, his breath coming out in a hiss of
pleasure. He got the idea, and began to pick up speed. My hips
shifted and began to rotate of their own accord as Tomas set up a
slow circular motion, caressing, pleasuring, and stretching
simultaneously.
I soon found that I
couldn’t control the sounds I was making. I was burning up, scored
by sensation, sobbing with it. I was lightheaded and my breath was
coming faster and my hips were bucking and my sight was going dark.
A thundering sensation was building inside me and, before I even
realized what was happening, orgasm was spilling over me, my body
spasming helplessly under Tomas’ steady rhythm. A lovely, yellow
glow suddenly suffused the room, a color so pure, so lush, that it
seemed as if happiness had been condensed and given form. For a
moment, I thought it was all part of the sensations running through
me, but it kept building, drowning out the lamplight as if a small
star had burst to life around us. Wildly twining filaments of white
and gold energy sizzled and writhed everywhere, building in
intensity until, like grounded lightning, they blinded
me.
Without warning, the
world fell away. I was plunged into a maelstrom of sights and
sounds and colors, all swirling together far too quickly to follow.
I couldn’t sense Tomas, couldn’t see him or even feel him. A vortex
was rushing towards me at terrific speed, and I was powerless to do
anything but let it come.
Then, as suddenly as
it had started, it was over. When the afterimages faded enough for
me to see again, I found myself alone on a hill, looking up at a
temple. Behind it, an ocean sparkled under a hot yellow sun. I felt
the brush of lips on my neck and heard a rumble of rich masculine
laughter in my ear.
“I approve of my
avatar,” a voice said. I knew it came from the man behind me, but
it seemed to echo from all directions at once, as if the temple,
sky and ocean were also speaking. “The son of another of my
priestesses—really, a nice touch.”
I blinked, dizzy and
disbelieving, but the scene stayed the same. “Your what?” I finally
croaked.
“The man chosen for
the ceremony becomes my avatar for a time. His union with the heir
consummates our marriage and confirms her in office.”
I choked. “I am not
your wife!”
That laughter bubbled
again, rich and infectious. “Do not be afraid, Herophile. It’s a
spiritual union—you could not withstand me in my physical
form.”
“I’m not afraid,” I
said, and it was true. Compared to the visions I usually got, this
one was a walk in the park. So far. “And my name is
Cassandra.”
“Not
anymore.”
I tried to turn
around, but strong arms held me tight. They were the color of
spring pollen, a bright true yellow that sparkled as if dusted with
gold. The light danced over his skin the way it does on water, so
dazzling that it hurt my eyes. It should have looked extremely
strange on a human body, but somehow it didn’t. Suddenly the
surroundings made more sense.
“You don’t miss a
cliché, do you?”
“Your mind chooses
how to perceive me,” he chided. “If there are clichés, they are
yours.”
“Who are you?” I
demanded.
“One who has waited
long ages for someone like you. At last, things will begin to
happen.”
“What
things?”
“You will see. I have
great faith in you.”
“Then you’re crazy,”
I told him flatly. “I don’t know how to use this power you’ve stuck
me with, and Myra’s going to kill me any minute now.”
“I sincerely hope
not. As for the other, the power goes where it will. Once I gave it
into human hands, I lost control.”
“But
Myra—”
“Yes, for now, you
must deal with your rival. We will speak again when that is
done.”
“But that’s the
point! I don’t know how to—” I never got to finish the sentence.
There was an outpouring of heat and a rush of wind, and all around
me surged a terrible, ancient power that rumbled through the ground
and sent currents sizzling along my entire body. Then I was back in
the cell, blinking in the suddenly dim light, unsure what had just
happened.
Tomas had let himself
go, and the sensations he was causing caught my breath in my throat
and drove the questions from my mind. He pulled me closer to his
chest, and I gasped as the length inside me shifted. His sweat-damp
hair fell around me, and his teeth latched onto my throat. I felt
my whole body constrict at the bite, and heard Tomas’ pleased growl
as my inner muscles tightened around him. Large hands gripped my
hips, driving him into me as far as he could go. He released my
throat without feeding, tongue swiping once along the abrasion;
then his hips began pumping faster, his face slack with need, and I
lost all ability to think for long minutes.
He finished inside me
in a delicious rush that felt scorching next to the lingering bits
of ice at my center. It ate that cold, consumed it, burnt the final
vestiges of it away and filled me up with a heated languor that
spread throughout my body. My own pleasure was less overpowering
now, but deeper, more persistent and sweet. I felt boneless with
Tomas draped over me like the best of heaters.
After a long moment,
Tomas pulled back to gaze into my half-closed eyes. He searched my
expression, but whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to
find. He kissed me anyway, and I arched into the sensual heat of
his mouth, feeling somewhat bereft when he ended the contact too
soon. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his thumb tracing my lower
lip.
I smoothed one of his
fine, dark eyebrows with a finger. “What’s wrong?”
He took my face
between his hands and gently kissed my forehead. “It’s all right,
Cassie. It will be all right.”
“What will?” My
afterglow was fast disappearing.
Tomas hesitated, then
let his breath out in a sigh. “I can still feel the geis around you, like a cloud.” His jaw tightened.
“It seems Mircea does not wish to release his claim.”
I shook my head.
“There was a complication with the spell. Mircea couldn’t remove
it, either.” I’d known this was a possibility, but it was still a
crushing disappointment.
Tomas started to say
something else, but the door suddenly swung inward and there was
Françoise, hands on hips, looking impatient. She tossed a bundle of
clothes at me. “It’s about time! It’s supposed to be a ritual, not
a marathon.”
I scrambled to my
feet, shivering in air that felt cold against my flushed skin.
“What?”
“Well, come on! Get
dressed! The king wants an audience, and he doesn’t wait well. Piss
him off, and none of us are getting out of here.”
“Françoise?” I was
getting a very bad feeling about this. The accent was suddenly
gone, and the look on her face didn’t remind me much of the French
girl’s usual nervousness.
She smiled grimly.
“Françoise isn’t home right now. Can I take a message?” Before I
could come up with an answer to that, she grimaced and clutched the
wall, her fingers clawed and white with strain, as if they were
trying to dig into the stone. “Damn it! Not now, girl! Do you want
to stay here forever?”
Tomas was looking
back and forth between the two of us, but I could only shake my
head at him. I had no idea what was wrong with her. “Um,
Françoise,” I finally said, as she began to vibrate as if her
finger were stuck in a socket. “Is there something we can . . . do
for you?”
She suddenly stopped,
stock-still, and stared at me, impatience flooding her features.
“Yes! You can get dressed! How many times do I have to say
it?”
I was cold without
Tomas’ body heat, so I decided to humor her. The dress was too
large, and stiff with embroidery, but the dark red wool was warm. I
decided that my best bet was to concentrate on one problem at a
time, and Françoise’s mental glitches weren’t even close to top of
the list.
“Françoise, do you
have friends here? People who would help you?”
She narrowed her
eyes. “Why?”
“It’s Tomas. . . . If
he leaves Faerie, he’ll be killed. He can’t go back, but he can’t
stay in this place, waiting to be executed, either. Do you know
someone who can hide him?”
“Cassie.” Tomas
touched my elbow. “What are you doing?”
“I need to know that
you’re safe. What if the king orders us deported back to MAGIC? If
you return, they’ll kill you!” The Consul had offered me his life,
but only in return for information I didn’t have. I hadn’t meant to
place the geis on Mircea, and I
certainly couldn’t lift it.
“And if you go before
the king without me, he may blame you for my escape. I won’t
endanger you further,” Tomas said flatly. I would have argued, but
the set of his jaw told me it would be a waste of time. Besides,
Françoise was looking apoplectic.
“You’re worried about
a vampire . . . now, of all times?” She
shook her head. “Cassie, he was a means to an end, that’s all. He
served his purpose; let him look after himself. They’re pretty good
at that, you know.”
Okay, that clinched
it. There was more going on here than Françoise having a fit. “You
want to tell me who you are right now? Because I never told
Françoise my name. Not to mention that she only used to speak
French.”
“We don’t have time
for this!”
I sat on the bunk and
looked at her mulishly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know who
you are and what is going on.” I’d had about enough of flying by
the seat of my pants. The past week had taught me the hard way that
I sucked at it.
She threw up her
hands in an oddly familiar gesture. Somewhere, I’d seen someone use
that movement in the same way, but it eluded me. “I told you once
you’d be either the best of us all or the very worst. Want to bet
which way I’m leaning?”
It took a few seconds
to sink in, and even when it did, I didn’t believe it.
“Agnes? What . . . what the hell are
you doing in there?”
“Existing,” she said
bitterly. “Some afterlife.”
“But . . . but . . .
I didn’t know you could even do possessions! The mages
said—”
“Right. Like we tell
them everything!” She put her hands back on her hips in another
eerily familiar gesture. “The less the Circle knows about our
abilities, the better! Did you really believe you could do it and I
couldn’t?”
“But you don’t have
Billy Joe,” I protested. It was something that had been bothering
me, both with her and with Myra. “How can you shift in time without
a spirit to babysit your body while you’re gone?”
Agnes just stared at
me; then she shook her head. “Well, that’s an original approach,
I’ll grant you,” she muttered. “We go back to our bodies at almost
the same moment we left them, Cassie. Our bodies don’t die, because
as far as they’re concerned, we never left.”
“But . . . your body
. . .” I stared at her, wondering how to phrase things. There
didn’t seem to be a lot of options. “Agnes, I’m sorry, but . . . it
is dead.”
She looked at me as
if I’d lost my mind. “Of course it is! What do you think I’m doing
here?”
“I have no idea,” I
told her honestly.
“Well, it certainly
wasn’t my first choice!” She looked pissed. “This is supposed to be
my bonus life, my time to enjoy myself for a change. I left you
intending to return to my body, to gather strength to migrate into
a nice German girl. She was supposed to die in a rockfall—a hiking
accident—and I was all set to take her over—”
“Take her over?” I
don’t know what my face looked like, but Agnes let out a
laugh.
“She was going to
die, Cassie! On the whole, I think
she’d have preferred sharing a life with me to that!”
I felt dizzy. “I
don’t get it.”
Tomas spoke up
suddenly, startling me. “One to serve, one to live,” he
murmured.
Agnes shot him a
less-than-kind look. “I don’t know where you heard that, but just
forget it.”
“Then it’s true,” he
said, apparently stunned. “There have been rumors, but no one
believes—”
“Which is how it’s
going to stay.” Agnes said emphatically.
It was my turn to
look back and forth between the two of them. “Will somebody please
tell me what is going on?”
“There is an old
rumor,” Tomas said, ignoring Agnes’ frown, “that the Pythia is
rewarded at the end of her service with another life—a type of
compensation for the one she gave up to her calling.”
I closed my mouth,
which kept trying to hang open in shock. For a moment, I just
stared at Agnes. “Is that true?” I finally managed to
ask.
“Do you want to get
out of here or not?” she demanded.
“Just tell
me!”
She sighed and threw
up her hands again. I didn’t know if that was a regular habit, or
if it just happened a lot around me. “Okay, long story short—yes,
it’s true. We find someone slated to die young, and cut a deal with
them. We possess them and feed off their energy, and in return we
help them to avoid whatever catastrophe was about to
occur.”
“That’s
horrible!”
“No, it’s practical.
A shared life is better than none at all.”
“But if you can do it
once,” Tomas said slowly, “why can you not continue to do it life
after life, century after century? ”
“That’s why I hate
vamps,” Agnes said to the room in general. “They’re so damn
suspicious!”
“But can you do it?”
Tomas asked.
“Of course not!” she
snapped. “Think it through! Once our time in service is over, the
power migrates to someone else. Without it, we have no way of
knowing who is going to die, and therefore no way of choosing
another body. It’s a onetime deal.”
Tomas gave a short
laugh. “You expect us to believe that no one has ever tried to
cheat death? To live through many lifetimes by taking whomever they
wanted, whether they were doomed or not?”
Agnes shrugged.
“That’s one of the many duties of the reigning Pythia—to make sure
it doesn’t happen that way.”
I shook my head. This
was happening too fast, all of it. My brain just couldn’t keep up.
“But why Françoise?”
“I told you—I didn’t
have a choice! I started to return to my body but discovered that
I’d wasted too much energy helping you. I hadn’t planned to have to
freeze time—that’s not an easy trick, especially after a jump of
more than three hundred years! I found that I didn’t have enough
left to jump the centuries one last time.”
“But I could have
taken you back with me!” Agnes had helped me fight off Myra. If it
wasn’t for her help, I’d probably be dead already. I would
certainly not have refused to give her a lift.
“If you recall,
Cassie, you were in the middle of a room full of hungry ghosts.
They were bent on devouring every spirit in sight! I couldn’t risk
it. Once time started up again, I had to get out of there fast. So
I went into the only person I knew of in that time who was near
death and might be willing to cut a deal.”
“And did she?”
Françoise wasn’t just any old norm: she was a witch, and from one
very memorable trick I’d seen her perform, a powerful one. And it
looked to me like she was fighting.
Almost as if she’d
heard my thoughts, Agnes made another grimace and clutched her
stomach. “In a manner of speaking.”
“How did you end up
here?” Tomas asked before I could demand something a little less
nebulous.
“I’d planned to get
back to Cassie before she left that century, once I was in
possession of a body to keep the spirits away. But the damn dark
mages showed up.”
“They kidnapped you
for sale to the Fey,” he reasoned. “And you have been here ever
since? But that was centuries ago!”
“Years, actually,”
Agnes corrected.
“Time runs
differently here,” I reminded him. Marlowe had said it, but I
hadn’t realized just how big the difference could be. “You’re
saying you’ve been here continually, ever since we left
France?”
Agnes nodded, then
held up a hand to stop me when I tried to say something else. “If
you’ve seen us since, don’t tell me about it. Françoise can hear
us, and she doesn’t need to be influenced by knowing what will
happen in her future.”
Her future, I thought
dizzily, but my past. She’d killed a dark mage at Dante’s a week
ago, helping me escape. Or, rather, she was going to kill one. . .
. My head was starting to hurt.
“Do you want to get
out of here or not?” Agnes demanded.
“Yes, but we’re going
to talk later,” I told her. Maybe by then I’d have sorted some of
this out and be able to think straight.
“If there is a
later,” she said ominously. “Don’t forget the wards—I went to
enough trouble to get them for you.” She grabbed the lantern and,
in a swirl of skirts, vanished down the hallway. Tomas and I looked
at each other, then hurried to follow her, Tomas still pulling on
the clothes she’d brought and me stuffing wards into every pocket I
could find.
We turned at the end
of the hall to ascend a long flight of stairs that was only
occasionally lit by low-burning torches. At the end was another
thick oak door, but it opened easily at the barest push from
Françoise. Pritkin, Billy and Marlowe stood around a large round
opening in a wall of rock, beyond which a mass of color shifted in
a kaleidoscope of light.
“Is this all of
them?” the pixie demanded, barely bothering to glance at us. “The
cycle is almost complete.”
Billy looked nervous.
“Cass, do you think I’ll keep this body once we go
back?”
“We’re going
back?”
“As soon as that
thing cycles to blue. But we’ll only have about thirty seconds to
get through at the right destination. We’re getting off at Dante’s,
but the Senate is next on the rotation, so we have to jump quick
before it turns red.”
I found it hard to
keep up. “Why are we leaving?”
“Because you’re going
to retrieve something for me.” A deep baritone echoed off the
walls. I slowly realized that what I had taken to be a pillar
draped in material was actually the biggest leg I’d ever seen. I
looked up, and kept on doing so for a ridiculous length of time. A
face as large as a searchlight beamed down at me from the shadowy
vastness of the hall. The ceiling had to be thirty feet high, yet
he was bent over slightly as if it cramped him. I did a double
take, then just stared.
The huge head lowered
itself to get a better look at me. Frizzy brown hair obscured much
of it, leaving a bulbous nose and blue eyes the size of softballs
visible. “So this is the new Pythia.”
“We had to deal with
the king,” Billy explained in a low voice. “Our runes are used up
until next month. Pritkin tried to caste Hagalaz and it didn’t
work—it just got a little colder and we ended up with a puddle of
slush. Null bombs are great, but only against magic, and we’re
seriously outnumbered here. The Fey don’t need mumbo jumbo to hit
us over the head. We need more weapons and some allies or the only
thing we’re going to do here is die. Marlowe’s agreed to cough up
the weapons from the Senate’s stash when we go back.”
“How generous of him.
What’s the catch?”
Marlowe, for once,
didn’t have a glib reply. Instead he simply stood there staring at
me, looking flabbergasted. Then he slowly sank to one knee. “The
Senate is always delighted to aid the Pythia,” he finally said,
after several tries.
“She isn’t Pythia,”
Pritkin remarked, turning at last to acknowledge my presence. Then
he stopped dead, his mouth working but no sound coming out. One
hand remained raised halfway through a movement, as if he had
simply forgotten to lower it.
“My lady, what shall
we call you?” Marlowe asked reverently.
“No!” Pritkin broke
out of his trance and stared between me and the kneeling vamp.
“This is a trick—it must be!”
I glanced at Tomas,
baffled. “What’s going on?”
He smiled slightly.
“Your aura has changed.”
I tried to see for
myself, but I couldn’t concentrate well enough and just ended up
cross-eyed. “What does it look like?”
Marlowe answered for
him. “Power,” he whispered, appearing dazzled.
“You need to proclaim
a reign title, Cassie,” Tomas said. “Your rule doesn’t officially
begin until then. Lady Phemonoe was named after the first of the
line. You can take the same title if you wish or choose
another.”
Pritkin had come back
to life and was striding across the room, looking outraged.
“Herophile,” I said quickly, the name from my vision coming
automatically. I looked nervously at Tomas. “Is that okay?”
Pritkin’s hand, which had been reaching for me, stopped and dropped
to his side.
“Where’s the golem?”
I asked Billy, keeping an eye on the mage. He had the look of an
atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and
faintly ill.
“You don’t want to
know,” Billy answered, staring fixedly at the portal, his throat
working nervously.
“What do you
mean?”
The king answered for
him. It was hard to believe that, for a moment, I’d actually
forgotten someone that large. “He was given to my steward as a
gift. He very generously loaned him to me.”
“They turned him
loose a couple of hours ago,” Billy said. “They’re going to give
him another hour, then go after him. Something about training their
hunting dogs.”
“What?” I was
horrified. “But he could be killed!”
“Technically, he
isn’t alive,” Billy pointed out, “so he can’t die.”
“He may not have been
alive before, but he is now!” I looked around for support but
didn’t find any. Marlowe had moved up beside Pritkin, looking
worried. Billy was staring at the swirls of color inside the portal
and biting his lip, and I doubted the golem’s fate was uppermost in
his mind. “We can’t leave him!”
“Of course,” the king
murmured, a sound as loud as anyone else’s bellow, “you could save
him, if you like.”
I had a very bad
feeling about this. “How would I do that?”
The king smiled,
showing teeth the size of golf balls. “By making a
trade.”
“Careful, Cass,”
Billy muttered. “He wants something from you, but he wouldn’t tell
us what.”
“Quiet, remnant!” The
king thundered. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth, or someone may
cut it out!” Then, as quick as a flash, his mood changed and he
smiled angelically. “ ’Tis only a book, lady, a trifling
matter.”
“Their destination is
next,” the pixie warned.
Pritkin suddenly come
back to life. “Where is Mac?”
I stared at him
blankly, and then it hit. Oh, my God. No one had told
him.
The pixie answered
before I could begin to think of a reply. “The forest demanded a
sacrifice before it would let us through. It went for the girl, but
the mage offered himself instead.”
I transferred my
stare to her. She must have seen Mac deliberately do something to
draw attention to himself. He had understood—the forest wouldn’t
let me go, wouldn’t stop attacking us, until it had a
sacrifice.
So he gave it
one.
Tomas squeezed my
shoulder in silent sympathy, but I hardly felt it. There had been
no blood on the ground when we left. The earth had absorbed it, had
absorbed him. The wards I’d stuffed in my pocket suddenly felt like
bricks.
Pritkin had looked
confused at the pixie’s offhand comment, but whatever he saw on my
face was explanation enough. Comprehension flooded his eyes. “You
planned this,” he said in a strangely dead voice. “You tricked us
into rescuing that . . . thing, so you could complete the ritual.
The geis made any other candidate
impossible.”
“I didn’t plan
anything,” I said. I wanted to tell him how horribly sorry I was,
to say something worthy of Mac, but my brain didn’t seem to be
working.
“About the book,” the
king rumbled.
I looked up at him,
confused. “What book?”
His face contorted
slightly and I realized that he was trying to look innocent. It
didn’t appear to be an expression he employed very often, judging
by the result. “The Codex
Merlini.”
“What?” The name
meant nothing to me, but Pritkin jerked violently.
Marlowe looked
intrigued. “But you can pick one up at any magical
bookstore.”
The king made a sound
like boulders rubbing together. I finally realized that he was
laughing. “Not that one. The lost volume.” He looked down at me and
his eyes were hungry. “Bring me the second volume of the
Codex, and you can have the creature.
You have my word.”
“No!” Pritkin
suddenly lunged for me, his face thunderous, but a second later he
was skidding across the floor from the brutal shove Tomas gave him.
He hit the wall but did an acrobatic flip back to his feet and
started for us again. His eyes were ice-cold and promised pain for
someone.
“Interrupt me again,
mage, and I’ll have your liver for dinner,” the king warned. His
voice left no doubt that he meant it. Pritkin skidded to a
halt.
I glanced from
Pritkin’s furious face to Marlowe’s interested one. “What am I
missing?”
“The Codex is the . . . the primer, if you like, the
text on which all modern magic is based,” Marlowe informed me.
“Merlin composed it, partly from his own work, and partly from his
research into the available magical texts of his day—many of which
are now lost to us. He was afraid that knowledge would be lost if
someone didn’t catalog it for future generations. But legend says
that we only have half his work, that there was originally a second
volume.” He glanced at the king. “Even if it still exists, what
good would it do you? Human magic doesn’t work here.”
“Some does,” the king
replied evasively. He was trying to look as if the conversation
barely interested him, but doing a lousy job. His enormous eyes
were fairly dancing with excitement, and the cheeks over the curly
beard were flushed. “Merlin divided his spells into two parts for
security. The spells themselves were in volume one, the
counterspells in volume two. Most of the counterspells have been
discovered by trial and error through the years, except the odd
lot, like that geis of yours. I
want—”
My brain stuttered to
a halt at the magic word. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me the
Codex contains a spell to remove the
geis?”
“It is said to
contain the counters to all Merlin’s spells. He invented the
dúthracht, so it should be in there.”
He regarded me shrewdly. “Does that add incentive,
seer?”
I put on my poker
face and hoped it was better than his. “Some. But I don’t see how I
can help you. If the book was lost—”
“Are you Pythia or
not?” he bellowed, shaking the rafters. “Go back in time and find
it, before it disappeared!”
I took in the
eagerness written on his huge face and made a swift decision. “I
could try,” I agreed. “But the price you offer is too low. What
else will you give?”
Pritkin let out an
expletive and leapt for me. His face was beet red and he looked
like he was about to burst a vein. Tomas took a step forward, but
it was Marlowe, moving in a blur, who got a choke hold around his
throat. I met the furious green gaze helplessly. I would talk to
Pritkin later, try to explain everything, but now was not the
time.
The king looked like
he was thinking about adding Pritkin to the evening menu, but I
interrupted. “We were bargaining, Your Majesty, and there isn’t
much time.” I gestured at the portal, which was glowing a bright,
true blue, with swirls of peacock, teal, navy and royal moving in
lazy patterns over the surface.
“What do you want?”
he asked swiftly.
After years of
watching Tony wheel and deal, this was almost too easy. “I need to
find a vampire,” I told him. “His name is Antonio, although he may
be using an alias. He’s said to be somewhere in Faerie. In addition
to the golem, I want Antonio’s location and enough aid from you to
retrieve him.” And anyone with him, I silently added. “And
sanctuary for Tomas, here at your court, for as long as he needs
it.”
“The golem’s life and
the sanctuary are simple enough,” the king said, “but the other . .
.” He trailed off thoughtfully. “I know of the vampire of whom you
speak,” he finally admitted. “But reaching him will be
difficult—and dangerous.”
“As will finding your
book,” I pointed out.
He hesitated, but the
color at the edge of the spiral was starting to bleed to purple. He
was out of time and I was the only one who could retrieve the book
he wanted so badly. “Done. Bring me the book, and you will have
your vampire.”
I nodded and started
forward, only to collide with Billy, who was backing away. “I-I
need to rethink this,” he babbled. “I’ll take the next
bus.”
“What’s wrong with
you?” I demanded.
His face was white,
and his hands were sketching agitated patterns in the air. “What if
I lose my body when we return? I just got it back,
Cass!”
“A little while ago,
you were worried about what might happen if you
stayed!”
“And now I’m worried
about what’ll happen if I go.” He looked genuinely terrified. “You
don’t understand what could be through there!”
“Billy! We don’t have
time for this! You already came through a portal on the way
here.”
“Yeah, and look what
it got me! Think it through, Cass!”
I had no idea what he
was talking about, and wasn’t given the chance to find out. “Get in
the portal, remnant,” the pixie said. “We don’t need your kind
here.”
“Stay out of this,
dolly,” Billy warned, swiping at her with his hat.
Suddenly, a blur shot
in front of us, heading for the portal, and I barely had a chance
to recognize Françoise before a bright light flashed and she was
gone. The king let out an enraged bellow. “Bring her back!” he
ordered.
The pixie unsheathed
her tiny sword. I’d seen what that thing could do, but Billy hadn’t
and he didn’t even bother to dodge. The side of the sword caught
him in the stomach, lifting him off his feet and smacking him
backwards. I had a chance to see his wide-eyed shock, and then he
was gone. The pixie flew straight into the portal after him, their
flashes coming so close together that they almost looked like
one.
I turned to see that
Pritkin had collapsed to his knees, Marlowe on his back. I was
moving forward to intervene when he suddenly hit the vamp in the
temple and simultaneously brought his other elbow back in a savage
jab to the ribs. Marlowe let go and staggered backwards, straight
into the vortex. Pritkin stayed down for a second, a hand to his
injured throat, trying to get his breath back. From his gasping
wheezes, it sounded like Marlowe’s choke hold had been closer to a
strangulation.
“Cassie, you must
go,” Tomas said urgently. He paused, his expression an odd mix of
tenderness and pain. “Try not to get killed.”
“Yeah. You, too.” I
would have preferred time to say good-bye, but there wasn’t any. I
kissed him quickly, took a running start and threw myself at the
swirl of color. At the last second Pritkin dove in beside me. There
was a flash of light, then another, then only
blackness.