Embrace the Night

"They were mistaken," Mircea said smoothly, as if we weren't standing right there.

Three of the vamps immediately bowed. "Our apologies, my lord," one of them murmured formally. "I will have the wards checked before any erroneous reports are filed. Although it could take an hour or so."

"See that it does."

"Yes, sir."

Three of the vamps started for the door, but the bigger one hesitated. "My lord, with respect, the Consul said most definitely that any unregistered persons should be detained and reported as possible—"

"But there are no such persons here," Mircea repeated.

"My lord!" He swept an arm to indicate the scowling war mage and beat-up clairvoyant currently crowding Mircea's bathroom. "They are standing right—"

"Do you see anyone?" Mircea asked one of the other guards.

"No sir!" he replied, looking right at me.

"They must have done something to fool your minds! There are two mages right—"

Mircea made a small gesture, and the vamp suddenly stopped talking. His eyes darted around my general direction, but could no longer seem to find me. "But—but there were people here!" Mircea raised an eyebrow and the vamp's companions dragged him from the room.

I stared worriedly at the door. "Will they be back?"

"No. But they will have to report this, in an hour or so. I take it your business will need no more time than that? Because if so, I shall need to make further arrangements."

"I'm not really sure how long it will take," I said awkwardly. That depended on just how difficult he was about to be, among other things. "It's, uh, kind of complicated."

Suddenly he laughed and gestured for me to precede him into the bedroom. "With you, when is it ever anything else?"

Like the bathroom, the outer areas of the suite were lit with candles, not electricity. I remembered why: this was the night the war began, at least officially—the night MAGIC was attacked. The big wards were up, and they don't mesh well with electricity. The dim light didn't prevent me from seeing Mircea's inquiring look, however.

I sighed and glanced at Pritkin, who had settled himself into the chair Tami would later occupy. He shrugged unhelpfully. We'd been over this already—there was no way Mircea was going to agree without some kind of explanation. But I didn't have to like it.

"It's a long story," I said quickly, before I lost my nerve, "but basically, there was this accident with the timeline and the geis was doubled. And then it started growing or morphing or something, and I was going out of my mind until I inherited the Pythia's power. It gave me a reprieve, but you ended up half crazy and, well, in here." I held out the black box. "The Consul ordered you locked up so you wouldn't, um, run amok or…or anything."

"Basically?" Mircea repeated dryly.

"Well, yeah, pretty much. But I think I know why the counterspell won't work. Because the geis was put on two of you—one in the current timeline and one in the past. But since only one of you is present whenever we try the spell, it doesn't think you're all there. So to speak."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's like with the Graeae," I explained impatiently. "I accidentally set them loose and we've been trying to trap them again ever since. Only it seems they register as one person for the sake of any magic used on them, and if one of the three is missing, the spell won't work. So they just make sure that they are never all together anymore. Then we can cast the spell all day and nothing will happen."

"Let me see if I understand," Mircea said, pulling on another of Ming-de's little gifts. "You believe the geis views the two of me on whom it was placed as one person."

"Because you are."

"But because I hold the spell in two separate timelines, if it encounters only one of me, it does not view me as a complete person, and therefore will not work?"

"Exactly. We all have to be present at the same time—two of you and one of me, because I had it placed on me only once, but you had it done twice. Once by the mage who initiated the spell and once by me. At least, I hope I have that figured right, because if we need another me this is really going to get complicated."

"Going to?" Pritkin muttered.

"That would be why, in Paris, your dress did not harm me," Mircea mused, ignoring him. "Because, linked as we were by the geis, it saw us as one. And, of course, it would not harm its owner."

"Well, two-thirds of its owner, but yeah, that's it."

"I am in there, am I?" Mircea slipped onyx cuff links into the French cuffs on his shirt and eyed the box skeptically.

"We can let you out," I said dubiously, "but I don't think…that is, I'm not sure how you'll react. Marlowe said he couldn't control you, there at the end…"

"Can we get on with this?" Pritkin demanded.

Mircea ignored him, but he gave me back a frown. "Has it not occurred to you that the mage has deceived you? Perhaps in an attempt to get into this very room, past security, to assassinate me in a vulnerable position?"

"Do mages frequently do that?" I asked, surprised.

"A few dark ones have tried. After what happened to the last one, I have had a reprieve for some years." He glanced at Pritkin. "But perhaps the lesson has been forgotten, and must be taught again."

Pritkin leapt up from his chair. "If I intended to harm you, I have had more than enough time already!"

Mircea bared his teeth in an expression that in no way resembled a smile. "Feel free to try."

I refrained from throwing something, but it was close. I'd known bringing Pritkin was a bad idea, but after the debacle with Nick, I hadn't dared to trust anyone else. Not to mention that he was the only one who knew the spell. It had to be him, and it had to be now.

"I honestly don't know how much time you have left," I told Mircea quietly. "If we do nothing, the spell will run its course and you'll die anyway."

"The spell was never designed to kill," he reproved. "Not in its wildest permutation."

"No, but it can drive someone mad! And then the Consul will do the killing for you."

Mircea paused, his eyes sliding to the snare. He regarded it for a long moment, expressionless. I guess it would be a little weird—okay, a lot weird—to imagine yourself trapped in there when you were standing right beside it. "The Senate has many experts at its disposal. Surely they can find a solution."

"That's already been tried. Do you think the Consul would have had you imprisoned if there was an alternative?"

"But would not this counterspell remove the geis from me, as well as from your Mircea? And thereby change time?"

"No, we don't think so." It was one of the things I'd asked Pritkin before we left. "It's being cast on the three of us, to break the bond we all share. But it can't affect anyone who isn't here, which includes the Cassie of this time. So your link with her should remain and, uh, run its course."

"Leading to a great deal of trouble."

"I'm afraid so. But there's no other choice—not if you want the present timeline to continue."

"The one in which you are Pythia." I didn't answer, but I didn't have to. Mircea had known since the battle at Dante's that his crazy gamble had paid off. He looked thoughtful for a moment, but then his eyes slid to Pritkin and his expression hardened. "I know you think you are acting for the best, dulceata? but you do not know what our enemies are—"

Pritkin swore and, before I could stop him, said something in a low, guttural language that sounded awfully familiar. Before I could blink, before he even finished speaking, Mircea had pressed him against the wall, a fist in his shirt and murder in his eyes. "Mircea, no!" I grabbed his free arm. "I thought we were going to wait until he agreed!" I said to Pritkin, furious.

"He would never have agreed," he spat, "and it doesn't matter anyway."