Claimed by Shadow

"Give us the rogue, Pritkin," one of the mages demanded. He was tall, with a prominent Adam's apple, pallid skin and a booming voice that didn't match his ski

"She'll get a fair hearing," the bulkier, African American mage at his side added, although the look he sent me wasn't friendly. "Come peacefully while you can.”

"What's going on?" I asked. The only answer I got was something large whizzing past my face, all of a millimeter from my nose. I jumped back with a shout, just as a heavy mace collided with a nearby suit of armor. That was a lucky break, since the heap of old metal had been about to bring a sword down on my head. The mace caught the thing in the chest, leaving a big dent and sending it staggering back into a tapestry.

I looked around wildly, not understanding what was happening. The mace had sliced through Pritkin's shields as if they weren't there. Even more worrying was the fact that the mages hadn't thrown the thing-it had come from somewhere behind us-but there was nobody back there. One of the knights was missing its weapon, but there was no one around to have thrown it.

A clanging sound caused me to whip my head back around and, for a second, I thought the mages were attacking. But although they were looking even more grim, I was no longer the focus of their interest. Their eyes and weapons were leveled on the damaged suit of armor. Instead of simply falling over, it appeared to be fighting its way out of the tapestry. Once it threw off the heavy material, it started feeling around for its sword, which the impact of the mace had knocked away. But Pritkin grabbed the weapon first and, despite it being almost as tall as he was, leveled it menacingly on the creature.

The knight appeared unfazed. It righted itself, then wrenched a shield off the wall and sent it sailing at us like a hundred-pound Frisbee. Pritkin threw himself at me, smashing us into the wall just as the heavy iron sphere sliced through the air where we'd been standing. It crashed into a stained glass window at the end of the hall, causing a cloud of multicolored shards to rain down around the back staircase.

I didn't even have time to catch my breath before Pritkin hit the floor and jerked me down beside him, pushing my head so low that my nose found out by experience just how hard fake stone can be. I didn't complain, though, because the next instant my hair was ruffled as another shield blew through the air right above us. It took a bite out of the wall across the hall, embedding itself halfway into the plaster and sheet rock.

The two war mages must have done something that drew the armor's attention, because the old relic suddenly started moving towards them, flakes of rust drifting to the ground behind it. I clutched Pritkin's arm, stu

Pritkin ignored me. He jumped to his feet, grabbing the sword he'd dropped when we had to get up close and personal with the wall. It turned out to be a bad move. The knight's visor-covered face immediately swiveled back in our direction. I guess it didn't like anyone else touching its weapon. It couldn't fight all three mages at the same time, but somehow that didn't make me feel better.

That was especially true a second later when the corridor echoed with the sound of a couple dozen metal figures simultaneously stepping off their plinths. It seemed that the internal defenses Casanova had talked about had decided to up the ante. The approaching metal army looked like the medieval version of a chorus line, all moving in perfect synchronization, but instead of doing high kicks they were shouldering weapons.

"The Circle found a way to block your ward-it won't work," Pritkin said shortly as I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain from my bruised nose and scraped knees. He was sca

"The Circle can't remove it unless they have you in their power," he added. "But it won't flare. Don't depend on it.”

"And you were pla

Pritkin didn't answer, being busy pulling an old-fashioned.45 from his belt and pumping rounds into the nearest knights. The bullets all co

Pritkin must have figured this out, because he shoved the gun back into its holster and sent a bright orange fireball at the line instead. It was powerful enough to catch one of the ba

"Their weapons are enchanted," Pritkin said grimly. "And I've been using my shields almost nonstop all day. They won't last, and few spells will work within the casino's wards. Shift us out of here!”

I'd have liked nothing better, but there was a slight problem. I might be in possession of a whopping amount of power, at least temporarily, but I really didn't want to use it. Power wasn't free, especially in such large amounts. I'd been around magic users enough to know that if you borrow power, eventually you get a bill. I didn't like not knowing what that bill might be, or who might be sending it.

"Why are the knights attacking us?" I asked, hoping for another solution-any other. "We haven't done anything!" Maybe I was misreading the situation, and the casino's defenses were actually trying to take out the mages for us. In that case, all we needed to do was get out of the way.

Pritkin quickly destroyed that hope. "Andrew and Stephan triggered the automatic defenses by drawing arms inside the casino. I didn't respond, so we should have been safe, but they came too close. The defenses have confused us with the aggressors, and now we're all targets. Shift us now!”

I didn't have time to explain my views on my new power, because I had to dodge a spear thrown by a knight down the corridor. I jumped aside just before it slammed into the floor where I'd been standing, sending bits of painted concrete flying up at me. I felt liquid slide down my left cheek and raised a shaking hand to it. My fingertips came back painted red, but my ward never so much as twinged. I stared incredulously at my blood-smeared hand. So much for supernatural protection.

"Do it!" Pritkin yelled.

"I can't!" I would break my resolution, but only if I was sure that the only alternative was death. If anyone sent me a bill for London, I could reasonably argue that I had been getting myself out of the mess I'd been dragged into against my will. I'd have no such excuse for calling the power now, and I didn't intend to end up owing somebody my life if I could avoid it. That sort of debt in magical terms can be a very bad thing.

Pritkin might have argued, but the charred knights were quickly regaining their feet. He sent his animated arsenal into the crowd, the wildly weaving knives giving the knights some new targets. I added my daggers to the mix, just in time to take out a mace spi