“Does that happen a lot?” I asked nervously. “Mages slipping through time?”

“It takes an extraordinary amount of power, and few are able to raise or to control so much. Most who try end up dead long before you need to worry about them. Leaving you free to deal with other responsibilities.”

“Such as?”

Marsden went ninja on some garlic. “Any number of things. We’ve already discussed the petitioners who will expect you to see the future for them and give advice.”

“Seeing the future is . . . problematic.”

“Nonetheless, people will want you to try. Along with presiding over the Pythian Court and supervising the initiates, it is a Pythia’s primary duty.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but the Pythian Court is what, exactly?”

“A court of mediation for high-level disputes among the supernatural community. For example, if the Clan Council of the Weres were to have a dispute with the vampire Senate that they could not work out themselves, they might bring it to you in an effort to avoid bloodshed. The Pythia can best judge these cases because she alone can see how the dispute will end if it is not resolved.”

I swallowed. Great. Something else I didn’t know how to do. Not that it made a difference in this case. Half the supernatural community wanted me dead and the other half thought I was their little pawn. Neither group was going to listen to a damn thing I had to say.

As for the initiates, I couldn’t imagine a scenario that would have me seeking them out. Myra had been bad enough; I didn’t need a whole court waiting for me to kick off. Or trying to help me do so.

I looked up to see Marsden staring at me suspiciously. “Please tell me this isn’t the first you’ve heard of all this,” he said.

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

His knife thwacked into the cutting board hard enough to wedge there. He left it, glaring at Pritkin. “You should have brought her to me before this! She needs training!”

“I might have, if you had mentioned you could provide it.”

“I would have, if you had mentioned that you were running about with the new Pythia! You used to keep me informed about such trifles!”

“Wait a minute.” I grabbed Marsden’s wrist, to keep him from trying to chop something else. “You can train me?”

“Not as Agnes could have, no. I can tell you what I saw and observed over a period of decades, but I don’t have your power. I can’t help you with things like possessions.”

“I hate possessions.”

“You seem to be holding up to this one fairly well.”

“This is a body swap, not a possession.”

“Semantics,” he said offhand.

“No. It really isn’t,” I said flatly. “There’s no one else inside my head and no one is getting hurt.”

Marsden looked at me impatiently. “I’m sorry if you find the idea distasteful, but we’re talking about your life!”

“No, we’re talking about someone else’s.”

“This is exactly why you need training. The other initiates don’t question the necessity for occasional unpleasant acts.”

Yeah, I bet they didn’t. The Circle liked to get them young and brainwash them from childhood. They’d probably walk into a fire if the Circle told them to and never even question it. But that wasn’t my style. And if Marsden and I were going to work together, he had to understand that.

“I don’t have the right to steal part of someone’s life, put them in danger to protect myself and possibly traumatize them forever in the process,” I told him quietly.

“That’s overstating the issue,” he said stubbornly. “And it’s for the common good.”

“Which makes perfect sense, unless you’re the one getting screwed over for everyone else’s good.”

“It is not up to you to revise a system when you don’t even know what it is!”

“But Apollo does know,” Pritkin pointed out. He’d stayed quiet during our discussion, seated at a small table near the wall, systematically cleaning his weapons. But he’d apparently kept up, because his voice had a definite edge. “He’ll be prepared for the status quo and have a plan of action for any move we make based on it. If we hope to best him, we must learn to think in new and different ways.”

“Stay out of this, John!” Marsden snapped.

“Why?” I asked. “He’s right.”

Marsden looked at me in exasperation. “The rules are there for your protection—”

“They didn’t protect Agnes.”

For the first time, Marsden looked genuinely angry. I guess he wasn’t used to people talking back to him. “She was poisoned because of the Circle’s negligence! Of all the reasons I have to despise Saunders, that is by far the greatest! As long as I remained in office, she was properly guarded. As you will be once I return.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were knotted with strain, with grief. He misses her, I realized. He wanted to honor her memory by helping to fulfill her last wish—that I succeed her. But he wanted to do it on his terms.

I exchanged glances with Pritkin. “About that . . . ,” I said.

“It’s perfect!” Marsden announced when I’d finished explaining the plan. “Better than I dared to hope for!”

“Don’t get too excited,” I told him. “We don’t have a deal yet. I can get you in, but I want a little more than confirmation in return.”

“Namely?” The old man’s expression didn’t change, but his usually bleary blue eyes suddenly looked a lot sharper.

“There are some schools the Circle has been running. I want them closed. Permanently.”

His forehead creased. “What schools?”

“The ones for kids with malfunctioning magic. The Circle has been locking people away for years who haven’t done anything wrong, and that’s including when you were in office. It has to stop.”

Marsden was shaking his head before I even finished. “The schools you mention are an unfortunate necessity. I don’t like them, either, but there simply is no other choice. We don’t lock away the harmless sort, but some of those children have very dangerous gifts!”

“There has to be a better solution.”

“If so, we’ve never found it. Unsupervised, they are a danger to themselves and everyone around them.” It sounded final.

“How many have you met?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a simple question. How many of them have you met? Because I’ve had nine hanging out at Dante’s for a week now and the place has yet to burn down or blow up or suffer anything worse than elevators with doors that won’t shut!”

“Then you’ve been very fortunate.” His tone was dismissive, as if I couldn’t possibly know what I was talking about.

“I also lived with a group of them for almost two years when I was a teenager. I’m not saying we never had a problem, but no one killed anyone or burned down any buildings. And the neighbors never noticed enough unusual stuff to bother calling the cops.”

“Forgive me, Cassie, but I find that very difficult to believe.” He sounded patient, and it pissed me off. I wasn’t the one being stubborn here.

“Like I said, how many of them have you ever known?”

“None. However—”

“Don’t you think it’s time you met some?”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Perhaps. But you understand that I cannot promise you anything? To take such a step, the Council would have to approve, and while I once had a good deal of sway over that group, that is no longer true.”

Oddly enough, I actually felt better that he hadn’t automatically agreed to my demand. If he had, I’d have worried that it was only to get what he wanted, and that the kids would be forgotten if and when he came to power. But even so, I wanted something a little less vague.

“I understand. But I want the issue discussed—seriously discussed—in front of the Council. And I want a good faith gesture from you before then. On the day you return to power, you release to my custody the children the Circle kidnapped yesterday.”

“I thought you had already retrieved them.”

“Only some. I want the rest. There aren’t many,” I added, because his face was still stuck on no.

“I will release the children taken in this latest raid,” he finally agreed. “And I will bring up the broader issue of the educational centers with the Council. But I cannot force their hand. The final decision will rest with them.”

I didn’t like it, but I respected him for refusing to promise more than he knew he could deliver. “Then it seems we have a deal.”

There was only one thing left on the agenda, but Pritkin wasn’t making it easy. “If you want this to happen, you have to drop your shields!” I told him, exasperated.

“You are certain this will work?” he asked for maybe the tenth time.

“Yes!” I put as much confidence into my voice as I could, but he didn’t look convinced. “This was your idea, remember?”

Pritkin had vetoed the idea of Billy possessing his body, even for a moment, so we’d opted for Plan B. The idea was for Billy to slip inside my skin and nudge Pritkin out. And as Pritkin’s body would be the only one in the room that wouldn’t be shielded, his spirit should have no trouble finding its way home.

It ought to work. It would work. But not if Pritkin refused to lower the shields he’d placed around my body.

“He’s afraid of opening himself up like that with a hungry ghost hanging around,” Billy said with a grin. He was clearly enjoying this. “He’s probably wishing he’d been nicer the last time we met.”

“Billy!”

“What? What did he say?” Pritkin’s head whipped around, his eyes wild. And, okay, maybe he wasn’t taking this better than me after all.