Claimed by Shadow Page 0,94

field, and one I knew nothing about. Getting close enough to spring the trap was going to be difficult if my power was unreliable, and I had no idea how many allies she had. After seeing what happened to Mac's wards, I wasn't as confident about the Senate's weapons as I had been. What if they didn't work in this crazy new world?

My mood wasn't improved by more mundane considerations, like how heavy the damned coat was getting, how much I could really use a bath, and how badly I wanted to see Mircea. The craving hadn't diminished, and although it was bearable, it wasn't fun. I felt like a three-pack-a-day smoker at the end of a twelve-hour flight. Only, for me, there was no relief in sight.

We finally stopped for a breather. Wind rustled the tree-tops, but down at ground level, there wasn't so much as a breath of air. Billy, who had been bitching about Tomas' weight the whole way, swore we'd been walking for a day, but it had probably been only an hour or so. I stripped off the lead-lined torture device Pritkin had stuck me with, and it helped a little, but no breeze hit my soaked clothes.

I was bent over, panting and exhausted, sweat running off my face to drip onto the leaf-strewn forest floor, when I saw it: my first proof that this really was an enchanted forest. A tree root, covered in bright red lichen like a scaly arm, reached up from the path to position itself on the ground under my nose. I shied back, giving a surprised yelp, then watched as it sucked dry every leaf that held any of my sweat.

"W-What is that?" I pulled back a leg as the root came closer, rummaging through the leaves like a pig after acorns. It couldn't see me, but it knew I was there.

"A spy." Marlowe's resigned tones came from above my head. "I knew we couldn't avoid them, but I was hoping for a bit longer than this.”

"A spy for whom?”

"The Dark Fey," Pritkin answered, coming alongside. "This is their forest.”

"Very likely," Marlowe concurred. "But I should reach our allies before-”

"You aren't going," Pritkin interrupted. "Give me a token and I'll do it.”

"Go where?" I asked, but no one was listening.

"They don't know you," Marlowe protested. "Even with an introduction from me, you could be in danger.”

Pritkin smiled sourly. "I'll take the risk.”

Mac cleared his throat. "It might be best if I go," he offered. "You've got enough trouble keeping that one in line"-he nodded at the golem, who was running his hands over the trunk of a nearby tree, an expression of wonder on his features-"and it doesn't know me. If something sets it off again, I can't guarantee I can control it.”

"It's coming with me.”

"It won't be much good in a fight right now," Mac said doubtfully.

"It isn't going to be fighting." Pritkin glanced at me. "I suppose you want to stay here and tend him?" He didn't name Tomas, but we both knew whom he meant. I looked at Marlowe before replying. He was adjusting the bandages around his curls as if they pained him, and grinned when he caught my eye.

"The storm didn't do my head any good," he explained, wincing slightly as his hand brushed a tender spot. "First Rasputin cracks my skull, and now this. You would think someone could aim for another part of my anatomy just once, but oh, no.”

I didn't smile back. Marlowe might really be in pain, or he might be trying to convince me how weak he was. If the latter, he was wasting his time. I'd seen enough injured vamps to know: if they were conscious and moving, they were deadly. There wasn't much I could do for Tomas, but at least I'd make sure Marlowe didn't cut off his head. I looked back at Pritkin and nodded.

"Then I'll need to borrow your servant.”

Billy had collapsed into a sweaty heap as soon as we stopped and was now tugging on one of his black boots and swearing. I guess he had tender baby feet to go along with the new stomach. "You sure? He's not much of a fighter.”

"He's only there in case something goes wrong. To run back and warn you.”

"He should be able to handle that." I nudged Billy. "You're up." He bitched, of course, but eventually beer won out over blisters and he agreed to go.

Marlowe scribbled a brief note on a piece of paper