“Thank you,” I said, and meant it. I didn’t know what the hell I’d have done, otherwise.
“No thanks are needed. It was part of my responsibility as your trainer.”
“Your responsibility was to bring her back alive!”
That was Rhea’s voice. I opened my eyes again and saw her standing in the doorway. Her face was white and strained, and she looked like she’d been running fingers through her hair. Either that, or some of the wonky Edwardian electricity had shocked the crap out of her.
I sighed inwardly.
It would be nice to go one day without freaking out my acolyte.
“Which I did,” Gertie said mildly, responding to the accusation.
“But you didn’t help her!” Rhea said furiously. “You said so yourself. If that vampire hadn’t saved her—”
“That is the risk, for any Pythia.” Gertie glanced over her shoulder at the trembling girl. “Particularly for one who travels alone. But then, she doesn’t have a choice, does she?”
“That’s enough!” I said, but Rhea had already fled.
“Excitable little thing, isn’t she?” Gertie asked, looking back at me.
“When she’s defending others, yes!”
“But she didn’t defend you. She wasn’t there to defend you—”
“And you know damned well why!”
“—although you seemed to be doing that well enough yourself, until you fell on a rock.”
I had been about to interrupt again, but that caught me off guard. “Was that what it was?”
She nodded. “Your precision is off. We need to work on that.”
“Yes, but—but that’s not the point—”
“Oh?” She looked at me politely. “What is the point?”
“You need to stop antagonizing Rhea! She feels bad enough as it is—”
“She needs to feel worse,” Gertie said, unrepentant. “Badly enough to change or to leave. Either would be preferable to this perpetual indecision.”
“—and she’s right!” I said, getting angrier as I started to remember everything. “I appreciate your help, I do, but we almost died! All of us! Why even come at all if you—” I broke off, as light dawned. “You wanted to see what I’d do. About Mircea.”
“Consider it another test.”
“And that was more important than saving my life?” I stared at her.
“I won’t always be there to save you,” Gertie pointed out. “You have to learn to manage on your own. To take initiative, to figure things out, and to make solutions out of nothing if you have to. That’s what a Pythia does. You have the skills, Cassie, but you’re like your acolyte; you don’t know that you do.”
I tried to respond to that, but Gertie wouldn’t let me.
“You wanted me to train you?” she demanded. “Then you must first understand this: all the resources of the Pythian Court, all the accumulated knowledge of centuries, all the wealth of power gifted by a god, no less, are nothing, are useless, on their own. They are tools, Cassie. You are the craftsman who wields them into solutions that nobody else would think of, that no one else could find.
“The Pythian Court, all of this, is here for one reason: to find that one person, that perfect candidate, to take on the mantel of power, and lead when others merely follow, and wield all of those tools. You have what it takes, but you don’t believe in yourself or trust your vision; you therefore wait for other people to take the reins and drive the carriage, without realizing—there are no other people!”
“I—I take initiative,” I said, a little taken aback, because that had been the most vehement I’d ever seen her.
“At times,” she agreed. “When you’re forced into it. As I said, you can do the job, and do it well. But you continue to act like a follower more than a leader. You wait until you have no other choice, when some great crisis motivates you, to act. A better plan is to head things off before they become a crisis—which brings us to the vampire.”