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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.
