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“You thought what?”
“You shouldn’t worry,” I told him, opening my eyes and meeting his head-on. “This is no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Jules sounded incredulous.
“Well, sure, it probably doesn’t seem that way to you. But it’s an easy spell. More a prank than anything else. The mages’ kids sometime use it on each other for fun.”
“For—” He broke off with a choked sound. “Mages are crazy.”
“Tell me about it. Look, just take a load off and stay out of sight. I’ll get rid of our guests as soon as I can, and we’ll get you all fixed up. All right?”
He blinked at me through water-beaded lashes, sort of dazed, as if he’d been bracing for a death sentence. But then he nodded, looking a little calmer. And let Rico lead his sopping-wet form out of the shower.
Fred didn’t follow. “Who you want me to call?”
I scowled at him. “How do you know I want you to call anybody?”
He just looked at me.
I sighed. “Central, the Corps’ HQ. Ask for Caleb Carter.”
/> “Who?”
“One of Pritkin’s friends. You met him that night at the pizza place. Tell him what happened and ask him to get over here.”
Fred sent me a look. “So I guess it’s bad, huh?”
“I don’t know. But Caleb will. And he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“So does Pritkin,” Fred pointed out. “Why not just call him?”
“He’s . . . busy.”
“Busy where? We haven’t seen him all week. Some of the guys have been wondering—”
“I didn’t think they’d miss a war mage.”
“Miss might be a little much,” he admitted. “But he’s less of a pain than most, and he brings beer. So where’d he go again?”
“I sent him on an errand.”
“Oh, jeez. Not back to Faerie? Didn’t he almost get killed the last time?”
“He isn’t—” I stopped myself. I wasn’t getting caught up in this. The fewer lies I told, the better.
Unlike Roger, I wasn’t that great with them.
“Look, just get Caleb, okay? Before Jules has a nervous breakdown.” Or I did.
“Too late. He’s Jules. He was born that way.”
“Fred!”
“All right, all right. Relax. Have a bath.” He looked me up and down, and then he smiled slightly. “Or, you know. Another one.”
Chapter Twenty-three
I had the bath. And toweled my hair dry. And put on a T-shirt and jeans, because I was tired and fed up and had done all the pretending I was going to do for one night. Then I went on a witch hunt.
