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I stared at him, horrified. Was that why the spell had jumped from me to Mircea in the past, because I’d secretly wanted it to? If I’d been less attracted to him, or more in control of myself, could all this have been avoided?
“And it has been unsupervised for more than a century, doubtless growing and changing all the while.” Pritkin went on relentlessly. “It is very likely that you are seeking the counter to a spell that no longer exists.”
I stared at him, feeling panic well up in my throat, dark and bitter. Being under Tony’s thumb most of my life had taught me not to try to control my surroundings; instead, I’d controlled the only thing I could: myself. The idea of having that last small freedom removed frightened me on more levels than I’d known I had.
“You’re saying the counterspell won’t work.”
“You changed the parameters of the geis when you doubled it,” Pritkin repeated. “It may well have become something with which the counterspell was not designed to deal. And if so, finding the Codex will do you no good at all.”
I didn’t reply for a long moment, just stared into clear green eyes that met mine unflinchingly. What he was saying sounded scarily plausible, but how did I know he was telling the truth? How could I be certain that this wasn’t an attempt to persuade me to stop searching for something he didn’t want me to find in the first place? It was hard to believe him when I had another authority telling me the exact opposite, assuring me that the Codex would fix everything and making finding it my first official duty.
“No good?” The pixie fluttered in front me, her little face gone livid. “It will keep my king from killing you!”
An image of the Dormouse from Alice in Wonderland suddenly flashed across my vision. I looked at the teapot longingly, wondering if she’d fit. Maybe if I pushed.
“I haven’t forgotten our deal,” I told her tersely. “And I don’t respond well to threats.”
“And I don’t make them! You made a deal with him, human. You do not want to find out what he’ll do if you break it!”
I glanced at Pritkin, who was being oddly silent, only to see that he’d gone back to his research. Apparently, thoughts of my possible death at Fey hands weren’t enough to hold his attention. I slammed a hand down on the tabletop just to see him jump. “The Consul already has every magical authority in the book working to try to find a way around this thing! Why do you think you’ll have more luck?”
“Because I must.”
“That’s not an answer!” He just looked at me. “Damn it, Pritkin, I’m Pythia now! I can’t do my job if you keep deciding what I do and do not need to know!”
“If you’re Pythia, then act like it!”
“I’m trying to. And I don’t think that involves waiting around for fate to kick me in the butt yet again! I want to do something!”
The massive volume he’d been working on suddenly leapt up and slammed against the door, leaving a powdery blue stain where it hit. Before I could comment on exactly how useless childish gestures were, the door opened and a
gingery head poked in. Nick looked like he thought he might be safer with the free-for-all upstairs.
He cautiously edged in, pushing a room-service cart and skirting the upended book. “It’s stopped. But there has to be a couple thousand of them.” His voice was almost admiring.
“What caused it?” Pritkin demanded.
“Augustine’s best guess is that one of his competitors is trying to rain on his parade.”
I winced at the pun, but Pritkin only looked even more severe. “There’s going to be more of this kind of thing, with the Corps preoccupied with the war.”
“What kind of thing?” I asked.
“Mages with vendettas deciding to take matters into their own hands,” Nick explained.
“The Corps can’t fight the war and police every mage with a grievance, and they know it,” Pritkin finished grimly. “And what’s all this?”
“Lunch. I met a waiter on the way back with the cart.” Nick started sorting through the sandwiches, fruit and cookies. “Would you like something, Cassie? There’s plenty here.”
“Not really hungry.”
“She’ll eat.” Pritkin said curtly.
“I said—”
“If you starve to death it would damage my professional reputation.”
“I eat plenty.”
