hit the water behind us, instantly raising the temperature from chilled to boiling. I screamed, and coherent thought fled. I didn't think, just grabbed his hand and shifted.
A second later, we landed in the same corridor, but with no dust cloud, no mages and no flood. I'd been treading water in the other time, so I was only a few feet off the ground. Pritkin, unfortunately, had been floating, and he fell from a little farther. Like about six feet.
He hit the rocky floor with a thud, a curse and a crack, the last from the demise of the flashlight. I tried to ask how he was, but a stitch was biting deep into my side and, for a long moment it was impossible to draw oxygen into my lungs. I slid down the wall to a seated position because my knees suddenly felt too rubbery to be reliable.
"What happened?" Pritkin gasped after a moment. With no flashlight and no deadly spells zipping around, it was pitch-dark, but from the direction of his voice, it sounded like he was still on the floor.
"I shifted us back in time," I managed to croak.
I decided that it probably wasn't good that I was still feeling shaky and nauseated despite being this close to the floor and completely motionless. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I'd shifted only twice today, once to get us to Paris from Manassier's cottage and once just now, yet I was exhausted. It looked like bringing another person along for the ride took a lot out of me. Too bad no one had bothered to give me the manual.
"A little warning next time!"
"You're welcome."
"When are we?"
I spit out more chalky-tasting dust. Now I knew why Lara Croft always carried a canteen. My body was dripping, but my throat was parched. I swallowed dry, while running through the mental Rolodex my power gives me. "Seventeen ninety-three."
"What? Why?"
"Because I didn't feel like being boiled alive?"
"You could have shifted us back a day, a week! This is no bloody use at all!"
Of course, I thought sourly, Lara Croft would also have some nice convenient techie thing to get her out of this. And a partner who wasn't a complete ass. I cautiously stood up and found to my surprise that I was only faintly dizzy. I strained my ears, but all I heard was my own harsh breathing and a faint drip, drip of water from somewhere.
"Let's go," I said, fumbling around until I found Pritkin's hand. His skin was cold from the water, and his pulse was fast but not bad. Not, for example, like mine, which felt like it could burst a vein. I needed to make sure I didn't have to shift again anytime soon. Like for the rest of the week.
Pritkin stayed where he was. "Go? Where?"
"To find the Codex! I thought it might be nice to look for it without somebody shooting at us for a change."
"An excellent sentiment. Except for the small matter of the Paris coven being one of the oldest in Europe. They may have abandoned this facility in our time, but in this era there are doubtless mages all over the place. Not to mention snares and traps. If we haven't already tripped a protection ward, we soon will!"
"Do you have another suggestion?"
"Yes. Shift us out!" Even in complete darkness I was positive I could see his glare.
I sucked in a breath, more annoyed than I could remember—well, more annoyed than before John Pritkin, anyway. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"You have shifted multiple times in a day before—"
"And it wiped me out before."
"You never mentioned that."
"You never asked."
There was a brief pause. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, peachy." I really hated his suggestion, but I couldn't think of a better one. "Let's at least clear the corridor first," I said in compromise. "Then I'll try to set us back a little early, before the fireworks start."
It took forever to get down that corridor, not because of the darkness but because Pritkin was certain someone or something was about to jump us. But the only problems were the usual—heat, bad air and the fun of trying not to fall on the uneven floor or scrape off a little more skin on the wall. We finally came to a branch in the path and Pritkin stopped. "Are you certain you're up to this?"