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“Caleb—” I said, reaching out.
“She doesn’t have shields!” The tiny witch was beside herself.
“You don’t, do you?” Jasmine asked, wonderingly. “You battled a Spartoi . . . unprotected?”
I didn’t respond, because Caleb was starting to worry me. “Just relax,” I told him as the pinching stopped.
“A war mage’s first duty is to protect the Pythia,” he said softly, his hand on the potion belt at his waist. A lot of the younger mages didn’t use one, preferring spelled bullets that could go farther and hit more accurately. But like Pritkin, Caleb preferred to double up on his weaponry, and he used both.
And I did not want to find out what the vial he was currently fingering did.
“It’s okay. It didn’t hurt,” I lied. Because I was going to be polka-dotted tomorrow.
“Assault is assault—”
“Oh, please!” the Valkyrie said. She looked at me. “Our apologies. But you can hardly blame us. The fact that the Pythia—the person on whom all our lives may depend—cannot even do a simple protection spell—” She threw up her hands. “It’s enough to shock anyone!”
“Shock isn’t the word I’d use,” the tiny witch muttered, bending to look at my arm. And then waving a hand and muttering something—
Which she didn’t get a chance to finish, because she was suddenly across the room, pinned to the wall. Jasmine was likewise out of commission, on the floor and trapped by the massive boot on her chest. And the Valkyrie and Caleb were facing off, he with the vial in the hand that wasn’t outstretched, restraining her companion, and she with what looked alarmingly like a wand denting the skin of his throat.
“She’s not the only one needs to work on her protection spells,” she hissed.
“Go for it,” he told her tightly. “And we’ll see who needs protection.”
“Don’t tempt me, mage! After the hash the Circle has made of this, I might be doing us all a favor!”
“By restarting a civil war?” someone asked, from over by the door.
I looked up to find Jonas standing there, his magnificent mane an electrified halo about his head, crackling like a storm was blowing in. But his voice had been mild, and his touch was gentle as he helped the little witch off the wall. Or tried to.
“I can manage,” she grumbled, hopping down as spry as someone my age. Although I didn’t think I’d be as calm as she was under the circumstances. Hell, I hadn’t moved, and I still wasn’t calm.
“Did you call him?” I demanded, looking at Caleb. Who was starting to sweat. But he didn’t drop the pose, even when his boss came up along one side. And gently pushed his subordinate’s boot off Jasmine.
She was up in a liquid move worthy of a vamp, her beautiful face distorted. But she didn’t do anything. She backed off, looking at the Valkyrie, who was still threatening Caleb.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Jonas cleared his throat. “No,” he told me. “He did not.”
It was mild, but Caleb swallowed.
“I came to see you. I had planned to in any case, but then that hotel manager called Central, demanding that someone come out to, er, de-chicken his security force?”
The Valkyrie’s lips twitched.
I blinked, because I’d expected to hear a sermon about the battle on the dra
g. Had been expecting it since I got up, actually, only nobody had mentioned it. Which was a little weird, come to think of it.
But I sure wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up.
“I thought that would just wear off,” I said instead.
“Yes, well, that’s what we told him. But it lasts rather longer on humans, you know, and he was insistent. And after calling up here . . .” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes going around the group.
“Caleb came at my request,” I told him, “to reverse a hex. And the coven leaders are . . . uh. Helping him.”
