“The Black Circle could.”
“The Black—” Pritkin stopped, apparently unable to process that.
Marlowe nodded, a grim smile settling over his features. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The collective energy of the Silver Circle was being sold to their fiercest rivals. Of course, according to Mr. Todd—the man you released for us, Cassie—Saunders never knew where it was going. But he didn’t bother to find out, which makes him equally culpable. A point of view with which I’m sure the magical community would concur, were it to ever hear about this.”
“When it hears!” Pritkin corrected.
“All you war mages are the same,” Marlowe said dismissively. “Run at a problem full on and club it into submission! The finer points are lost on you.”
I crossed my arms. “Then explain them to me.”
Marlowe glanced at Mircea, who nodded tersely. “Saunders has been informed that we have Todd and his evidence. It would be enough not only to end his career, but to bury him if it ever came out—”
“Which it will!” Pritkin interrupted.
“Which it can’t,” Marlowe shot back. “Otherwise, whoever the Circle taps for his successor will put us back in the same quagmire in which we’ve been stuck for the last month!”
“You’re talking about blackmail!” I said, catching up. “You stay silent about his activities and he confirms me as Pythia.”
“And does any other little chore we may think up,” he added with a slight smile.
“That is completely out of the question!” Pritkin’s hands kept clenching as if only the lack of a target was keeping him from pouncing on someone and beating them bloody. “The Senate does not control the Circle!”
“Does not control the Circle . . . yet,” Marlowe murmured, deliberately provocative. Pritkin’s eyes latched onto him with an expression I didn’t like, and Marlowe gave him a small smile. The temperature in the room escalated about ten degrees.
Mircea ignored them. “Cassie, if you want the recognition and cooperation you need to function, this is the only way.”
“By leaving a felon in the most important position in the magical world? That doesn’t sound like a great way to begin!”
“Better than not beginning at all,” Marlowe said. “We haven’t spent the last month looking for something to hold over that bastard’s head to throw it aside now! Your scruples—”
“Are commendable,” Mircea broke in, throwing him a look. “But of course, we will make it clear to Mage Saunders that his financial arrangement will have to be terminated, and that we will be keeping a very close watch on his future activities.”
“You’re forgetting one small matter,” Pritkin said scornfully.
“And what is that?” Mircea demanded.
“Jonas intends to challenge—”
“Something that would not be the case had you not interfered!”
“—and indeed, I shouldn’t wonder if he hasn’t already done so.”
We all looked around, but Marsden had disappeared. Marlowe swore and dove for the foyer. Mircea started to follow, but I grabbed his arm. “We’re not done.”
“This isn’t the time, Cassie!”
“According to you, it’s never time, not to tell me anything! You get angry with me for bringing in outside help—”
“I would hardly categorize Mage Marsden as help! The man was almost impossible to work with—”
“To dictate to, you mean,” Pritkin put in.
“—not to mention that two days ago, you informed me that you intended to swim, relax and perhaps do some shopping. Not to start a revolution!”
I stared at him. “Okay, let me make sure I understand. I’m supposed to vet everything I do with you—”
“If it involves aiding a coup, yes!”
“—but you don’t have to tell me a damn thing in return. Not about Saunders, not about your girlfriend, not even about my father!”
That made him pause, if only for a second.“We have yet to confirm the rumors about your father,” he told me more quietly. “I did not wish to upset you needlessly. We had no way of knowing that Saunders intended to spread them before half the world!” His forehead wrinkled. “And what girlfriend?”
I ignored him, so angry I was almost shaking. “Upset me? What am I, five years old? I’m Pythia, Mircea!”
“I have never questioned—”
“You question it all the time! Everyone does! The Senate is as bad as the Circle. They both want the Pythia’s power but not what goes with it. They don’t want someone who might make them do things they don’t like or overrule them when they’re being stupid. They want a dumb blonde who is going to do what she’s told and stay locked away under a metric ton of guards the rest of the time!”
“For your protection, Cassandra! Or have you somehow failed to notice how many people wish you harm?”
“About the same number who are trying to assassinate the Consul, but she’s not in hiding! Because she knows it isn’t always possible to stay safe and get the job done!”
“Nor is it possible if you are dead! Do you have any idea how many plots against your life we have thwarted in the past month?”
“No! I don’t know anything! That’s my point! I need information to do my job—all of it, not whatever you think I can—”
“The Lord Protector and court,” one of the masters intoned from the top of the stairs. I looked up to find a large party of mages staring at the destruction, trying not to let it show that the circle of gold-eyed vampires creeped them out.
Marlowe and Marsden were having a low-voiced conversation in the foyer. I couldn’t hear them, but I assumed Marlowe was trying to persuade him to postpone his challenge. From the defiant jut of the old man’s chin, it didn’t look like he was having much luck.
A portly, balding man in an ill-fitting blue suit caught sight of us and stepped forward. “Miss Palmer, I assume?”
Pritkin just stood there for a moment before slowly stepping forward. “And you’re Reginald Saunders.”
I was grateful for the hint, because I never would have picked the guy out in a lineup. He looked more like a middle-management flunky than the leader of the most powerful magical association on Earth. But then, I didn’t look much like a Pythia, either.
“Indeed.” He held out a hand, but Pritkin made no move to take it. It was rude, but since we were about to get a lot ruder, I didn’t guess it mattered. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t send another lieutenant in your place.”
“Some things, it seems, it is best to do for oneself,” he said mildly. Then the hand he still held out made an odd gesture. And Pritkin sailed off his feet, flew backward out the missing window and disappeared into the night sky.
I stared in disbelief at the spot where he’d just been for half a second and then I was scrambling across cowhide, running for the balcony. I hung over the railing, praying to see a shield bubble somewhere below, but there was nothing. The lights of the hotel extended only so far, and beyond them was only blackness.
I looked up to find Mircea beside me, scanning the darkness. His eyes were better than mine, but judging by the way the metal railing was squeezing up through his fingers like butter, he didn’t see anything either. “Tell me he could manipulate your magic,” he said, his voice expressionless.
“Normally, yes,” I said breathlessly. “But we were attacked before we got here! He’s pretty drained, and I don’t know if—”
I didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. Mircea launched himself at Saunders, the crackle of his energy hitting the mage’s shields like an out-of-control forest fire. It set the remains of the furniture alight, turning the center of the room into a bonfire, and threatened to scorch my skin even this far away. But Saunders acted like he couldn’t even feel it.
“You have a reputation for sagacity, Lord Mircea,” the man snapped. “Use it! The girl is dead. Even now, the power is passing to another Pythia—one I will control! The game is over.”
Mircea didn’t bother to respond, but someone else did. “Reginald! You worthless, spineless, murdering bastard! You couldn’t control a TV with a remote! As a member of the Great Council, I challenge your right to lead the Circle!” Marsden came striding down the stairs, his mane of silver hair crackling with static.
Saunders ignored him. “Don’t be a fool, Mircea! Did you think you were the only one to make preparations for this meeting? I have more than two hundred mages surrounding this building. It is time to renegotiate!”
“Renegotiate this!” The voice came from behind me. I turned, seeing nothing but darkness, until I looked down. The huge sailing ship hung suspended in midair, its prow dipping and rising, its rigging creaking lightly—and Pritkin hanging over the side. He threw a spell at Saunders that sent him slamming back against the wall, shields and all.
I don’t think it hurt him, but the look on his face was priceless. For about a second, until his phalanx of bodyguards closed in, cutting off the view. Mircea’s vampires moved to intercept them, and just that fast, things went to hell.
I helped Pritkin back over the railing while the ship just hung there, riding invisible currents. He must have ripped open the ley line to save himself, and fallen onto the ship. Like the Chinese barge, it appeared to be capable of levitating in real space in order to reach and descend from ley lines.
I looked back at the apartment to see Marsden calmly walking through the fray, spewing curses left and right, each of which landed like a hammer blow on Saunders’ mages. I was beginning to wonder if Pritkin might not have underestimated him. Certainly none of the mages seemed all that eager to fight him.
One guy tried to hide behind a buddy, who shoved him away and scampered out of the line of fire. The first guy stared at Marsden, who smiled gently back right before hitting him with a curse so strong it knocked him clear through the remaining balcony doors. He flew past us, sailed over the railing and landed on the deck of the ship. Only to be kicked off by a vampire in an old-fashioned captain’s outfit.