Claimed By Shadow

Page 17

"They used arsenic, rather than a potion or curse that would have been detected by the wards," Pritkin added, apparently appalled that Agnes had been killed by something so mundane. "Here. What do you sense from this?”
I backed away fast, even before I got a good look at what he was holding out.
"I promised to talk, nothing else," I reminded him.
"With no witnesses, this is our best chance to find the killer!”
I stared at the small amulet in his hand. It looked pretty innocent, just a round silver disk with a worn figure embossed on it, swinging from a tarnished chain. I wasn't getting any warning signals from it the way I did from objects likely to trigger a vision, but I didn't intend to take chances.
"Well?" Pritkin thrust it at me, but I backed away rapidly.
"Your chance," I corrected, making sure the little bauble didn't brush against me. "This isn't my problem.”
"Don't be too sure of that," he said cryptically.
I dodged behind Mac for cover and refused to take the bait. I glanced at my nonexistent watch. "Oops, look at the time. Guess I have to be going now. Let's not do this again sometime, okay?”
Before I could move, Pritkin was there, jamming the medallion into the skin of my upper arm. "Ow!" He looked at me expectantly. I glared at him. "That hurt!”
"What do you see?”
"A big red mark," I said irritably, rubbing at what would probably be a bruise. "And stop poking me with that thing!”
"If you are lying to me—”
"If I had a vision, you'd know it!" I told him furiously. "I don't just see the bad stuff anymore—I get a front-row seat. And lately, I take whoever's closest along for the ride! Or have you forgotten already?”
Pritkin didn't answer; he just continued to hold out the amulet, although he was no longer attempting to brand me with it. I sighed and took the damn thing. "How does it work, exactly?”
"That's just it," Mac said, sounding as if he was enjoying the mental puzzle. "We don't know. It contained arsenic— we opened it last night. But it was enclosed by the metal, with no way to touch the skin.”
"The answer has to be there!" Pritkin insisted. "She was holding it when she died, and it contained the same poison that killed her. And where else could the poison have come from? No one would have been able to get to her to administer it, especially not repeatedly!”
I gingerly examined the tiny thing. It had been cut open along the side, like a locket. Whatever it might once have contained, it was empty now. Which probably explained why I was getting nothing from it. The tampering had ruined its physical integrity, and in the process had ruptured any psychic skin that might have imprinted itself. But with Pritkin already looking as if his blood pressure was going through the roof, I decided not to mention that. "Repeatedly?”
"No one was suspicious, because the poison wasn't administered all at one time," Mac explained. "It was spread out over six months or more, administered in small doses that built up in her system until it finally overwhelmed her. Her worsening condition was put down to her age and to the strain of losing the heir.”
"Six months?" The same time the Senate sent Tomas to babysit me. I didn't like the coincidence, but didn't say anything. Unfortunately, either my face gave me away or Pritkin had already made the leap himself.
"Myra couldn't have administered the poison," he said flatly. "She went missing months ago, long before Agnes took ill, and she has no motive. The Council wants her out of the way, so they are using the story of her involvement for their own purposes. Others had far better cause, but the Council can't afford to challenge them.”
No, I didn't suppose so. The Circle was allied with the Senate in the war; they couldn't risk accusing their buddies of murder. I didn't like to think about it, but it really wouldn't surprise me if the Senate was guilty as hell. It fit the usual vampire modus operandi to remove obstacles in the most final manner possible. And it would have been worth it even if they'd only thought there was a chance that the power would come to me. They'd believed I was going to be their tame Pythia, the first in centuries under their control rather than the Circle's. For that kind of power, they'd have done far worse than kill one old woman. Of course, there was another strong contender.
"What about the Circle?”
Pritkin's eyes narrowed. "What about it?”
I shrugged. "You've implied that the Senate is guilty, but they're not the ones hunting down the only two candidates who stand in the way of the Circle's chosen heir.”
Mac looked sick, but Pritkin brushed it aside. "The Circle had no reason to want a change in leadership. Lady Phemonoe was an excellent Pythia.”
"Well, yeah, that's the point. Agnes being good at her job might have been the problem, if the Council really is going bad. Maybe she opposed them one too many times, and someone decided that a younger, more easygoing Pythia would be—”
Pritkin cut me off with a savage gesture. "You don't know what you're talking about! The Council would never stoop so low!”
I stared at him, amazed that he'd already forgotten our morning in hell. His precious Circle didn't seem to have a problem with taking me out, or with sending him after Myra. But I guess we didn't count. "Okay, so why are you after her? Because you think she knows something?”
"I declined to kill her untried," Pritkin said, "but by now the Circle has doubtless assigned another operative. If he finds her first, she will have no chance to tell her side of things.”
"You must have turned them down pretty forcefully. Because they don't seem too fond of you.”
"I found out that an informant had placed you at Dante's this morning. I had to battle the Circle's team to reach you first, and one of them recognized me.”
And, of course, they'd seen him in the hallway with me, too. That probably hadn't done his reputation any good. "Say you find her. What then?”
"Charges have been made that she needs to answer," he said shortly. "Her fate will depend on her responses.”
I looked down so he wouldn't see the disbelief in my eyes. "Sounds like you have a plan. Now that you know where Myra is, why do you need me? As you pointed out, I won't be much use in Faerie, assuming we can get there.”
"Because there is a chance that she can time-shift away from me without someone to hold her in place," Pritkin told me reluctantly. "Part of your power allows you to restrict a sybil's abilities. It is usually used for training purposes, to permit a Pythia to retrieve a sybil from the timeline if she falls into difficulties. You should be able to exercise the same control to ensure that Myra cannot elude me.”
I sipped soda to hide my expression, and Billy merged with me so we could talk privately. "Either these two are the dumbest conspirators I ever met," he said in disgust, "or they don't think too highly of you.”
"Both," I thought at him. "Can you drift through either one, maybe find out what they're really up to?”
"Nope. They're both warded all to hell and back. But we don't need that to know they're lying. If your power won't work in Faerie—”
"—then I couldn't hold Myra for them, even if I knew how. Yeah, I got that much. So what do they want me for?”
"That's kind of obvious, too, isn't it?”
"You think?”
Billy laughed, and it echoed inside my skull. "I'm gonna go check up on Dante's, see what kind of hell the Circle is raising, if you think you can handle these two geniuses without me?”
I thought something rude and got another peal of laughter before he was suddenly gone. I stared at Pritkin and he looked back, completely expressionless. He did a good poker face, but it didn't matter. I didn't buy his flimsy story for a minute.
Pritkin knew full well that Myra had tried to kill me. He was probably betting that sooner or later she'd show up again for another go. Basically, I was bait. As for why he and Mac wanted to find her, that was also obvious. Locating her would give them a powerful tool to use in a coup against the Circle's leadership. Maybe they saw themselves as revolutionaries, remaking a corrupt system, or maybe they were just opportunists who figured she was their ticket to power. It didn't matter to me either way, but I did care about the fact that she would never help them for anything less than the full title. The only question was whether Pritkin would kill me himself once I'd served my purpose, or if he'd let Myra do it for him.
Of course, I knew they were kidding themselves if they thought she would just fall in line with their scheme. As Agnes had put it when she reluctantly handed power to me, her heir had joined Rasputin because she was evil or because she was weak, and either way she'd make a lousy Pythia. The fact that Myra had shortly afterwards attacked me had me leaning towards evil. I might not want the job, but that psycho wasn't getting it, either.
I thought it over. Billy was right—we needed more help than he could provide, and a couple of war mages were perfect. Pritkin wanted to use and then double-cross me?
Okay, but two could play that game. I'd let him help me through the obstacles ahead, and as soon as we found Myra, I'd dump him and use the trap that had housed the Graeae on her.
I smiled at the mage. "Sounds interesting. Maybe we can work out a deal, after all.”
That afternoon was quite an education. Even though I'd been brought up at a vampire's court, my knowledge of magic wasn't great. Clairvoyants are viewed as the dregs of the magical world, people with little real talent who make a living telling norms what they want to hear. You know the type: "Your soul mate's name begins with a T— or S or R or any of the more common letters of the alphabet— but the clairvoyant needs subsequent sessions to figure out exactly who it is. Expensive sessions. I'd never done that, even when money had been more than tight. I might cheat casinos out of desperation, but I never mocked my gift. Most of the mages at Tony's, however, had put down any of my Seeings that came true to coincidence, and wanted little to do with me.