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He sounded casual, but there was something in his eyes that told me he wasn’t being completely truthful. I didn’t know what usually happened to old war mages, but it was obvious that Mac, at least, wasn’t content to just fade away. He craved the adrenaline rush of battle, maybe even the danger.
I decided on a change of subject. “So, my ward drew its power from the Circle, until they cut it off.”
He nodded. “Right, which gave it its strength, but also created a conduit between you. I suspect that John is right and the council got worried that you’d figure some way of turning their own magic back on them, so they shut down the connection.”
“Or they thought I’d be simpler to kill that way.”
Mac looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps. But what it means is that there’s nothing wrong with your ward, except that your mother didn’t have experience in doing the transfer so it got a bit warped. I can fix that, but its looks aren’t the problem. The reason it doesn’t work is the same as if a watch stopped. It needs a new power source.”
“What new source?” I was getting an idea about what the bad news was.
“The only one big enough to support something like this, other than the Circle itself.” He smiled gently, as if he understood my dilemma. “The power of your office—the energy that makes you Pythia.”
“No. No way.” I gestured at the curtain. “Give me one from the books out front.” There were some pretty scary ones listed; surely we could find something that would work.
But Mac was shaking his head. “I have no way of knowing how strong your innate magic is. Your aura is confused with the Pythia’s energy, and I can’t separate them. There’s no way to know whether you could support one of the larger protection wards on your own. If not, any tat I gave you would draw power from the reserve you inherited as Pythia, the very thing you want to avoid.”
“Then give me a smaller one, an easy one!”
Mac regarded me somberly. “You’re going into Faerie, a place most mages won’t venture on a bet. None of the smaller stuff would do you any good there. And none of the wards I have would protect you as well at that one. Craftsmanship like that is rare these days.”
“Maybe I’m stronger than you think.” I was a clairvoyant; surely I could manage to support one measly ward.
Mac only shrugged, causing his lizard tattoo to scuttle for cover again, this time under the snake’s scales. The snake didn’t like that and swatted at the smaller ward with the end of its tail. The lizard jumped out of the way, then ran across Mac’s cheek to the top of his head. It stayed there, peering out from behind a bushy eyebrow, regarding the snake with unfriendly black eyes.
I dragged my attention back to what Mac was saying. “Magic is like a muscle, Cassie, a metaphysical one but a muscle nonetheless. The more you work with it and train it, the stronger it gets. Whatever magic you have is raw talent. And that alone won’t get you very far.”
“Tony wouldn’t allow me to be trained.”
“He did you more of a disservice than you know. A powerful, untrained magic user is a target, nothing more. Power can be siphoned away if you don’t know how to protect yourself. The Dark Circle has no compunction whatever about stealing magic from anyone they can. At the moment, you fighting a dark mage would be like a baby trying to arm wrestle a bodybuilder, unless you use the power of your office. You need training, at least in defense,” he said seriously, “and the sooner the better.”
“Yeah, I’ll add that to my list,” I said bitterly. Everyone was always giving me new items for my agenda, when what I needed was help in clearing off some of the old ones. “Right now, I have a few other problems.” I turned, feeling Pritkin standing in the doorway even before I saw him. “Like how we’re going to get into Faerie.”
“We’ll get in,” he said grimly, and I noticed that he’d strapped on his arsenal. He had the long leather coat that acted as a slight disguise draped over his arm. “The problem will be getting out.”
“Are we going now?”
“No.” I tried not to look relieved at his answer. “Tonight.”
“Tonight?” I followed him into the outer room. “But the vamps will be up then.” I didn’t know that Mircea was in his safe room at the moment—first-level vamps aren’t bound by the sun cycle and can be active at any time of day. But most still sleep in daylight, since the night is much kinder to their energy levels. If Mircea was awake, he was probably sluggish. But tonight he wouldn’t be.
“We are not trying to penetrate the vampire area,” Pritkin reminded me. “And the portal is guarded by mages.”
“I don’t see how that’ll help,” I protested, not liking the idea of walking into a bunch of war mages any more than dealing with the vamps. In fact, it was probably even less smart—at least the Senate didn’t want me dead. Probably.
“Some friends of mine are on duty tonight,” Mac explained. “I think I can get you past them.”
“I have some supplies to arrange,” Pritkin added, throwing on his coat. I didn’t envy him that, considering that it had to be over ninety degrees outside, but I guess he didn’t have much of a choice. The police would probably object to his walking around looking like an extra from Platoon, and going about unarmed right now would be even less healthy than heat stroke. “I suggest you stay here, out of sight,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “Rest if you can. You may not get another chance for some time. And have Mac rework your ward,” he added as he headed for the door. “You’ll need it.”
He hurried out the door like all the hounds of Hell were after him. Mac looked at me and shrugged. “It’s your call, but I’d advise you to consider it, love. Faerie is a scary place, even when it isn’t on the brink of war. Right now, I can’t think of a soul who’d want to go near the place.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promised. I might have questioned him more, but my attention was distracted by Billy floating through the wall. He was making faces at me, so I figured he had news. “I’m tired,” I told Mac. It wasn’t a lie—sharing a room with the Graeae isn’t exactly restful—but I mainly wanted some privacy.
“Got a cot in back,” Mac said. “I cleared my appointment list for today after John showed up, so I won’t need to go back there. Get some sleep, Cassie.”
He meant well, so I managed not to roll my eyes at him. Yeah, sure. There were only about a hundred reasons why I’d have trouble sleeping.
Billy followed me to the back and I flopped down on the cot after shifting aside notebooks full of sketches, stacks of grimoires and old potato chip bags. “What’s up?”
