I didn't understand it. If the rune had killed Pritkin and Mac-even if it had vaporized their bodies-I should be able to see their spirits. And, so far, I couldn't. After walking a large circle around where the mages had vanished and coming up with nothing, I turned my attention to my own position. It wasn't good.
I was miles from Vegas with no food, water or transportation. Worse, the only nearby source of those things was MAGIC, where half the people hunting me currently resided. Breaking in by myself would have been daunting, even if Billy had been there to help. But he, like the mages, was currently a no-show. That thought started me worrying that perhaps the rune could destroy ghosts, too, and that was why I couldn't see Pritkin or Mac's spirits. I shied away from that concept quickly when I began to shake. Billy was a royal pain, but he'd been with me through some pretty crazy times. It was hard to think about being truly alone, without a single person I could claim as an ally-not even a dead one.
The only good news was that I was wearing enough ammunition to wage a small war. Unfortunately, I'd have to drive off my enemies by throwing it at them, because I didn't have a gun. Pritkin hadn't offered to share, and my own Smith amp; Wesson was in my purse, which Mac had stuffed into the backpack-a backpack he had been holding.
I was watching a gorgeous desert sunset with rising panic when I noticed something small and dark in the sky. It was only a tiny spec highlighted by the rays of the setting sun, but it was getting bigger fast. I barely had time enough to think that Mac had been right, it did remind me of Oz, before the thing grew so huge that it blotted out what was left of the sun. I hit the ground, huddling inside the thick coat while my brain flashed on an image of me lying under Dorothy's farmhouse, with only my dead legs sticking out. Too bad I'd lost the shoes from Dante's; they'd have been perfect.
My inner monologue began to babble as something huge hit the ground nearby with a bone-shaking thud. A hail of rocks and dirt rained down on me, and my brain lost it. It was hysterically insisting that getting crushed to death wouldn't be fair-I was only a slightly bitchy clairvoyant, not a wicked witch-when the dirt storm finally passed.
I peered out from inside the coat, but there were no Munchkins or yellow brick roads in sight. Yet there was a house. It took my dust-filled eyes a few seconds to realize that the structure sitting so incongruously on the desert sand wasn't a rogue Kansas farmhouse but an urban tattoo parlor, with its neon sign flashing as cheerfully as Mac's grin.
I was lying in the dirt, shaking, when the door burst open and Pritkin and Mac ran out. They looked pretty forbidding, but then Mac caught sight of me, gave a whoop and sped over to pick me up and spin me around in a circle, lead-lined coat and all. "Cassie! Are you all right? You had us so-”
"Where the hell did you two go?" I was sobbing and half hysterical, so relieved that I felt weak and simultaneously as mad as hell. I hit him in the chest and, although I doubt it hurt much, his eagle screeched and pecked viciously at my hand. I shrieked and tore away, ending up back in the dirt. I had just been attacked by a painted bird that was not now and never had been real. Despite my afternoon crash course on advanced wards, it didn't seem possible, but it was hard to argue with evidence that hurt that much. Then Sheba woke up and things went from bad to worse.
I felt the unwelcome fur ball stretch along my lower back and, when Mac bent over to help me up, she flowed along my torso and down my arm. I looked in surprise at the line of bright red that suddenly appeared on his forearm. Despite the size of her paw, the gash it left behind was three inches long and deep enough to need stitches. Even worse, I had no idea how to call Sheba off.
Pritkin jerked me away from his friend and sent me staggering, releasing his hold quickly before Sheba could get her claws into him. His lips were thin with anger. "Stop it, both of you! Before you activate the wards for real and tear each other apart!”
I looked down at my hand, which now sported a painful two-inch gash, and gulped in enough air to say, "For real?" How much worse did they get? I don't know what else I might have said, but I glimpsed Billy over Pritkin's shoulder and temporarily forgot everything else. I pointed a trembling finger at him. "Where were you? It's almost dark and MAGIC is right over there!”
"Calm down, Cass-it's okay. Everything's fine, but you need to get a grip or your new pet is going to do some serious damage.”
"My ward didn't flare." I stared at Mac, who was busy healing his wound. Lucky him-I'd wear mine for a while. Yet, although it was Mac who was bleeding, it was Pritkin who was glowering at me. That was so unfair it was breathtaking, considering that all of this was his damn fault.
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," Mac said. "It's a bit more advanced than those. It's designed to sense intent, and I didn't mean you any harm." He had managed to stop the blood flow, but a raw red weal remained behind to mark his skin, leaving a gap in the leaves that they brushed against but couldn't cross. "I'm sorry, Cassie-I shouldn't have grabbed you. But when you disappeared we-well, we didn't know what had happened.”
So they'd thought I was dead, too. Mac's confession that he, at least, had been worried helped me calm down-that and the fact that I wasn't about to face an ambush alone. "I've been right here," I told him shakily. "You two are the ones who disappeared. Where did you go?”
"You were aware that we were gone?" Pritkin asked with a frown. He glanced at Mac. "We were wrong, then.”
"Not necessarily." Mac looked at me keenly. "Maybe time displacements don't affect her like the rest of us. That could be why she didn't come along for the ride even though she was as close to you as I was.”
"You went somewhere in time?" What, could anybody do it anymore?
"We think that thing"-Mac gestured at the rune Pritkin still held in his fist-"is a do-over.”
"A what?”
"It carries the caster back in time about twenty minutes. So if you get in a tight spot, you cast it and have a chance to redeem a mistake.”
I sent Pritkin a less-than-friendly glance. "Something that might have been very useful where we're going.”
"I'm sure it will be," he commented, tucking it out of sight inside his coat.
I would have reminded him that the rune was mine, except that he would almost certainly have replied that I'd just stolen it first. I glanced at Billy and nodded slightly toward the mage. He floated over while I started an argument to distract Pritkin. "Well, it's useless now, at least for a month.”
"We could not risk employing it without first learning what it does," Pritkin insisted, his eyebrows drawing together in their usual expression. "If it has not been used in as long as we think, it should be possible to cast it again soon.”
"But you don't know that," I pointed out angrily. "You can leave rechargeable batteries plugged in as long as you want, but they only hold one charge. Maybe the rune works the same way.”
"Permit me to think that I know a little more about magical artifacts than you," Pritkin replied with disdain as Billy slipped an insubstantial-looking hand into his pocket. A few seconds later, my rune floated out as if levitated. It made its way to me and I surreptitiously pocketed it. "I am reasonably certain it will work," the mage added. "Now, if you have finished having hysterics, we should be going.”
I said nothing but retrieved the backpack from Mac and took out my gun. It was fully loaded, but I checked it anyway. Pritkin's lips thinned out even more as he watched; pretty soon he wasn't going to have any at all. He obviously didn't like the idea of my carrying a weapon-maybe he was afraid I'd shoot him in the back-but he refrained from comment.