“John,” Jonas tried again.
“—I practically ensured that you would go back, and that you’d do it alone!”
“It’s—it’s okay,” I said, my brain still trying to process the fact that I might have just won an argument. And with a guy who usually had the defense prepared. But he didn’t look very prepared right now. He looked dismayed, guilty and angry—no, more than angry. He looked furious, but not at me, I realized.
He was furious . . . with himself.
And that somehow destroyed all my anger at him. I instantly went from outraged to wanting to hug him, so I did, and he hugged me back as if it was the last time he’d ever have the chance. Because he’d also been afraid, I realized. Hell, if his grip was anything to go on, he still was, although everything had turned out all right.
“I didn’t go back to fight him,” I said, rubbing his back. “That’s why I needed the suit. I
just had an idea that maybe I was dealing with a time shifter, and wanted to find out if it was true. I was there to observe, not fight.”
Pritkin pulled back to look at me. It was surprisingly sardonic. “And your plans always turn out as expected.”
I bristled a little at that, but there wasn’t much heat behind it this time.
The guy had a point.
“This will never happen again,” he promised. “The next time you decide to chase a madman through time, I’ll be with you.”
Which . . . is when Jonas made a mistake.
“The Pythia has plenty of defenders,” he said, flatly. “And would have more if she accepted a full contingent of war mages at her court, as she should do. Meanwhile, your presence is required here.”
“Not when Cassie is in danger!”
“She’s going to be in a great deal more danger if our enemies win,” Jonas pointed out. “All of us are—”
“All of us haven’t been through what she has! Not you, not me, not anyone!”
Jonas looked slightly surprised by the ferocity in those words. “I am aware,” he began, more mildly.
“Are you? The fact that she’s still alive after this summer is a miracle, a testament to her strength, but everyone has limits. In less than six months, she’s evaded more assassins than I can count, including some of the Circle’s own—”
“Under my predecessor’s watch,” Jonas reminded him. “Which was one of the reasons we replaced him—”
“—fought two gods, killed two gods, rescued her court when you would have let them burn—”
“In order not to risk her, as you very well—”
“Why?” Pritkin interrupted savagely. “To risk her instead on that ridiculous mission into Faerie? You sent her to scout out an area that even the fey wouldn’t enter, and almost got her killed in the process! And I was stupid enough to say nothing, to merely go along to try to protect her. But that is becoming increasingly difficult as this war heads toward end game, and she is not going to be the sacrifice play, do you understand? She is not going to be the price for your victory!”
The owl eyes narrowed. “I have never expected her to be. The Pythia is precious to all of—”
“Bollocks!” It was practically a roar, and Jonas—who was one of the more unruffled figures I knew—blinked.
For Pritkin’s part, his eyes suddenly glowed neon. “I’ve seen how the Circle deals with Pythias,” he spat. “How it uses them up, tosses them aside, and brings in another young woman to exploit—”
“That’s enough!”
“I agree! It is enough! Cassie won you back your position. She has gained you victory after victory. She’s done everything asked of her and then some. It’s enough!”
“That is not your call.”
“I’m making it mine. She is not going to be another Agnes—”
Jonas flushed puce. “Damn you! You dare—”