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Oh God, yes, I remembered, I thought, groaning and grabbing on to his hair, his shoulders, his butt, trying to crawl up his body as he filled me with life and energy and power, to the point that I found myself laughing against his lips, the feeling so giddy, so effervescent, so light, that it simply had to come out somehow.
“All right,” the other Pythia said dryly. “I think that’s quite enough.”
I didn’t answer, being too busy giggling and holding helplessly on to Pritkin.
“Come along, girl,” she said impatiently.
“No.” It was strangled, because I was desperately trying to keep a straight face.
I failed.
Brown eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to test me, my dear.”
“You know,” I gasped, “I kind of think I do.”
And then I froze her.
The expression on her face as she toppled over really set me off, but Pritkin was already towing me through the door and back into the bar. Where people were starting to move sluggishly as her time spell unraveled. And that included one extremely odd-looking demon lord who scowled in slo-mo when he saw me run through with his son, still doubled over with laughter and strange euphoria and utter disbelief that I’d just done that.
Oh God, I was so dead, I thought hysterically.
And then a sheet of rain slapped some sense back into me.
Pritkin had pulled open the door, which almost resulted in us getting blown off our feet. It looked like the other Pythia’s time bubble extended only as far as this room. Because outside, nature was taking its course in the form of a gale of wind and sleety rain that was only slightly lessened when Pritkin jerked me around the corner and up against the side of the building.
There was intermittent cover under the eaves and the spreading arms of a tree. But unlike the dark shadows along a nearby canal, it was way too close to a window for my liking. A haze of golden light speared the darkness from between the gaps in a pair of old wooden shutters, highlighting random bits of war mage: a cheekbone, a stubbly jaw, one violent green eye.
And a pair of thin lips that opened to say: “Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“My property!”
Oh, right. He wanted his damned map back. “We don’t have time for that,” I told him, sobering up slightly. “We have to get . . . somebody . . . and then get out of here—”
“Give me what I want and I will let you go!”
“I can’t give you what I don’t have,” I told him, distracted, because the gaps in the shutters were from warped boards, not slats, and I couldn’t see much inside. That was worrying, since Pythias weren’t affected by time spells like other people. What I’d flung at her would have bought me fifteen minutes, maybe more, with anyone else. With her . . . I honestly didn’t know how long we had.
But I was betting it came under the heading of not long enough.
Annnnnnd now Pritkin was shaking me again. “I helped you!”
“Yes, after m-mugging me,” I pointed out. Although in fairness, it felt like I’d gotten back more power than I’d given. Like, a lot more.
Which was weird, because he was looking kind of energized himself.
Along with pissed.
“I b-burnt the map,” I reminded him quickly. “You w-watched me—”
“But you’d memorized it, hadn’t you?”
“Look, can we t-talk about this another—”
“You’d memorized it”—low and furious—“and you saw something in there that brought you here!”
“And you know that h-how?”
