Karen Chance - Claimed by Shadow

The huge head lowered itself to get a better look at me. Frizzy brown hair obscured much of it, leaving a bulbous nose and blue eyes the size of softballs visible. "So this is the new Pythia.”

"We had to deal with the king," Billy explained in a low voice. "Our runes are used up until next month. Pritkin tried to caste Hagalaz and it didn't work-it just got a little colder and we ended up with a puddle of slush. Null bombs are great, but only against magic, and we're seriously outnumbered here. The Fey don't need mumbo jumbo to hit us over the head. We need more weapons and some allies or the only thing we're going to do here is die. Marlowe's agreed to cough up the weapons from the Senate's stash when we go back.”

"How generous of him. What's the catch?”

Marlowe, for once, didn't have a glib reply. Instead he simply stood there staring at me, looking flabbergasted. Then he slowly sank to one knee. "The Senate is always delighted to aid the Pythia," he finally said, after several tries.

"She isn't Pythia," Pritkin remarked, turning at last to acknowledge my presence. Then he stopped dead, his mouth working but no sound coming out. One hand remained raised halfway through a movement, as if he had simply forgotten to lower it.

"My lady, what shall we call you?" Marlowe asked reverently.

"No!" Pritkin broke out of his trance and stared between me and the kneeling vamp. "This is a trick-it must be!”

I glanced at Tomas, baffled. "What's going on?”

He smiled slightly. "Your aura has changed.”

I tried to see for myself, but I couldn't concentrate well enough and just ended up cross-eyed. "What does it look like?”

Marlowe answered for him. "Power," he whispered, appearing dazzled.

"You need to proclaim a reign title, Cassie," Tomas said. "Your rule doesn't officially begin until then. Lady Phemonoe was named after the first of the line. You can take the same title if you wish or choose another.”

Pritkin had come back to life and was striding across the room, looking outraged. "Herophile," I said quickly, the name from my vision coming automatically. I looked nervously at Tomas. "Is that okay?" Pritkin's hand, which had been reaching for me, stopped and dropped to his side.

"Where's the golem?" I asked Billy, keeping an eye on the mage. He had the look of an atheist who'd just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

"You don't want to know," Billy answered, staring fixedly at the portal, his throat working nervously.

"What do you mean?”

The king answered for him. It was hard to believe that, for a moment, I'd actually forgotten someone that large. "He was given to my steward as a gift. He very generously loaned him to me.”

“They turned him loose a couple of hours ago," Billy said. "They're going to give him another hour, then go after him. Something about training their hunting dogs.”

"What?" I was horrified. "But he could be killed!”

"Technically, he isn't alive," Billy pointed out, "so he can't die.”

"He may not have been alive before, but he is now!" I looked around for support but didn't find any. Marlowe had moved up beside Pritkin, looking worried. Billy was staring at the swirls of color inside the portal and biting his lip, and I doubted the golem's fate was uppermost in his mind. "We can't leave him!”

"Of course," the king murmured, a sound as loud as anyone else's bellow, "you could save him, if you like.”

I had a very bad feeling about this. "How would I do that?”

The king smiled, showing teeth the size of golf balls. "By making a trade.”

"Careful, Cass," Billy muttered. "He wants something from you, but he wouldn't tell us what.”

"Quiet, remnant!" The king thundered. "Keep your tongue behind your teeth, or someone may cut it out!" Then, as quick as a flash, his mood changed and he smiled angelically. " 'Tis only a book, lady, a trifling matter.”

"Their destination is next," the pixie warned.

Pritkin suddenly come back to life. "Where is Mac?”

I stared at him blankly, and then it hit. Oh, my God. No one had told him.

The pixie answered before I could begin to think of a reply. "The forest demanded a sacrifice before it would let us through. It went for the girl, but the mage offered himself instead.”

I transferred my stare to her. She must have seen Mac deliberately do something to draw attention to himself. He had understood-the forest wouldn't let me go, wouldn't stop attacking us, until it had a sacrifice.

So he gave it one.

Tomas squeezed my shoulder in silent sympathy, but I hardly felt it. There had been no blood on the ground when we left. The earth had absorbed it, had absorbed him. The wards I'd stuffed in my pocket suddenly felt like bricks.

Pritkin had looked confused at the pixie's offhand comment, but whatever he saw on my face was explanation enough. Comprehension flooded his eyes. "You planned this," he said in a strangely dead voice. "You tricked us into rescuing that… thing, so you could complete the ritual. The geis made any other candidate impossible.”

"I didn't plan anything," I said. I wanted to tell him how horribly sorry I was, to say something worthy of Mac, but my brain didn't seem to be working.

"About the book," the king rumbled.

I looked up at him, confused. "What book?”

His face contorted slightly and I realized that he was trying to look innocent. It didn't appear to be an expression he employed very often, judging by the result. "The Codex Merlini.”

"What?" The name meant nothing to me, but Pritkin jerked violently.

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?”