“This is my fault. I should have just shifted the wagon. Stupid—stupid!”
“Yes, it was,” he agreed.
I hung my head. “You’re supposed to argue with me,” I said, although he was right. I’d used up the last of our potion and hadn’t even gotten anything for it, because of course the Pythia of the time would be drawn to something like that. Of course she would. And of course she’d bring her friendly neighborhood posse along for the ride. I could have stayed in hiding and let them take care of everything, but I hadn’t stopped to think, even for a second, and now . . .
I looked around, again. At nothing, again. Because there was nothing to see.
Absolutely nothing, except for a blank white cell. No, not even a cell. A white, rectangular box with no door, no window, and no way in or out, because a Pythia didn’t need one, did she?
But I did, because my power was gone.
Not exhausted, not blocked, gone. Like Gertie had somehow stripped it from me. But she couldn’t do that . . . could she? I’d been told that it was mine, until I died or passed it to a successor. That no one had the ability to take it from me, not Gertie, not anyone! I tried to convince myself of that even as I felt an overwhelming sense of loss, a terrible hollowness where our connection ought to be. Something that had become as much a part of me over these past months as a limb was missing, like a chunk carved out of my soul.
Gertie, I thought, and slid down the wall.
“You had a split second to make a decision,” Rosier said. “Exhausted, in the middle of battle, whilst freezing to death. You made the wrong one. It happens.”
“It doesn’t happen. It can’t happen.”
“You can’t hold yourself to that kind of standard. No one—”
He broke off when I put my head in my hands, as if realizing that the last thing I needed was another lecture. For a while, we just sat there in silence, me trying to think and Rosier . . . not doing much of anything. Because what was there to do?
“I never thanked you,” I finally said, “did I?”
His eyes were closed, and they didn’t open. But his voice sounded alert enough when he spoke. “Thanked me?”
“For helping, back at Nimue’s. I think I might have lost it, and gotten us all killed, if you hadn’t . . . intervened. So thank you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Rosier didn’t have any eyebrows yet, but he wrinkled some skin at me. And yeah, I guessed some crazy stuff had happened since then, hadn’t it? “In the corridor,” I said. “You know, with the two fey?”
The wrinkling continued.
“In front of the portal?” I could feel myself blushing. Trust Rosier to make a simple thank-you awkward!
“I simply told you where the gate was,” he said, opening his eyes. “Although I didn’t expect you to plow through a cave-in headfirst! I still maintain—”
“I’m not talking about that,” I said, wishing I’d never brought it up.
“What, then?”
“Never mind!”
“You can’t thank me for something and not tell me what it is,” he said testily. “And it’s not as if we have anything else to—”
“The sex, okay?” I snapped, spelling it out. “Happy now? Thank you for help with the sex!”
He blinked. “What?”
I glared at him, too tired to be interested in games. “Drop the act. I know it was you. You did the same thing in the car—”
“What car?” He scowled. “When have we been near any—”
“A couple of weeks ago? Spartoi? Dragon’s blood? Ring any bells?” I made every sentence a question because Rosier still looked clueless. Although why, I had no idea.
It had been memorable.
A few weeks ago, Pritkin had been injured in a fight with the Spartoi. In fact, he’d been about to die, but we hadn’t been near any help, and it might not have mattered if we had. Regular old dragon’s blood is bad, but the blood of a shape-shifting demigod son of Ares was on a whole different level, and he’d been covered with it. It had been eating him alive.
I’d had to sit there, watching him die, with no ability to do anything. Except for the obvious, because incubi only heal one way. But he hadn’t been responding, hadn’t even seemed to know I was there, and I’d been frantic because I was about to lose him—
Until Rosier showed up, in spirit form, and used his powers the same way he had at Nimue’s tonight.
“You saved us tonight, like you did in the car,” I said, slowly and distinctly. “I was panicking, and you helped, and I wanted you to know—”
“I didn’t.”
“What?”
Rosier looked crabby. “The council blocked my abilities, remember? Worried I’d try a power play back in time, and give some of them what they deserve. I told you this.”
“But . . . that was about magic—”
“It was about everything except the countercurse. And in any case, what do you think my abilities are if not magic?”
I frowned. “But you did help—”
“I did not.”
“Then what was that?” Because one minute, I’d been freaking out, and the next . . . I felt myself blush again. “That wasn’t me.”
“Well, of course it—” Rosier stopped abruptly, and the big eyes narrowed. And when his voice came again, it was different. “You’re telling me you didn’t plan that?”
“Plan what?”
Instead of an answer, I got an explosion. One that left me flinching back in surprise. “You can’t be serious! I thought you were playing a dangerous game, but under the circumstances, I understood. But now you’re telling me—” He broke off, glaring. “You didn’t know!”
“Know what?”
“That you’ve been feeding off of my son!”
I didn’t respond, because whatever I’d expected, it hadn’t been that. But it didn’t matter. Rosier didn’t give me a chance to say anything anyway.
“Remember Amsterdam?” he demanded. “When that Gertie creature caught up with us the first time?”
“I—yes, but—”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t feed! I sent you into the back of that bar to seduce him, and when you came out, it damn well looked like you’d succeeded!”
“That . . . wasn’t a seduction,” I said, because I was confused. And because I kind of thought they involved less yelling. “I was just trying to keep him in sight until the soul turned up. Only Gertie did instead, and he donated some energy so we could get away—”
“He didn’t just donate!” Rosier snapped. “If that were the case, he should have been tired afterward, even haggard. But instead he was invigorated!”
I paused, because I’d noticed that, too. But it hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time. And, frankly, it still didn’t. “So?”
“So how does that work? He gives you power, yet has more at the end than he started out with? That doesn’t sound like a donation to me!”
“Then what does it sound like?”
“I think you know.”
I just looked at him.