Jim Butcher

by Dresden Files 12 - Changes

  I . . . just stared.

  The last time I’d seen my faerie godmother, she had been ranting and raving in a couple of distinct personalities and voices while half-entombed in a sheet of ice at the heart of the Winter Court. Since I was sixteen, she’d pursued me relentlessly whenever I crossed into the Nevernever, apparently determined to transform me into one of her hounds.

  For crying out loud. Now she was all smiles and bubbles? Protecting my apartment? Offering to play courtroom with me, as if I were a child and Martin and Susan were a pair of dolls?

  “It isn’t that I don’t like to see you, Lea,” I said. “But I can’t help but wonder what it is you want.”

  “Merely to ensure the well-being of your spiritual self,” she replied. “That is what a godmother is supposed to do, is it not?”

  “I was sort of hoping your answer would be a bit more specific.”

  She let out a musical laugh that rang like distant church bells over snow. “Sweet child. Have you learned nothing of the fae?”

  “Does anyone, ever?”

  Her slender fingers stroked Mister’s fur. “Do you think it so impossible?”

  “Don’t you think it is?”

  “In what way is my opinion relevant to the truth?”

  “Are we going to stand around here all day answering each other’s questions with questions?”

  Her smile widened. “Would you like that?”

  I lifted a hand, capitulating.

  She inclined her head to me, a gracious victor. Lea was better at that sort of wordplay than me, having had several centuries to practice.

  Besides, losing to the guest with grace was a traditional courtesy, as well.

  “What I would like,” I said, nodding toward the cocoons, “is for you to please release these two. They aren’t robbers. They’re guests. And this is, after all, my home.”

  “Of course, child,” she said agreeably. “No harm done.” She snapped her fingers and the cocoons seemed to sublimate into a fine green mist that quickly dispersed. Susan fell limply from the wall, but I was waiting to catch her and lower her gently to the floor.

  Martin plummeted from the ceiling and landed on a threadbare throw rug covering the concrete floor. Nobody was there to catch him, which was awful. Just awful.

  I examined Susan quickly. She had no obvious wounds. She was breathing. She had a pulse. And that was pretty much the length and breadth of my medical knowledge. I checked Martin, too, but was disappointed. He was in the same condition as Susan.

  I looked up at my godmother. Mister was sprawled in her lap on his back, luxuriating as she traced her long nails over his chest and tummy. His purr throbbed continuously through the room. “What did you do to them?”

  “I lulled their predator spirit to sleep,” she said calmly. “Poor lambs. They didn’t realize how much strength they drew from it. Mayhap this will prove a useful lesson.”

  I frowned at that. “You mean . . . the vampire part of them?”

  “Of course.”

  I sat there for a moment, stunned.

  If the vampire infection within half vampires like Susan and Martin could be enchanted to sleep, then it was presumably possible to do other things to it as well. Suppress it, maybe permanently.

  It might even be possible to destroy it.

  I felt a door in my mind open upon a hope I had shut away a long time ago.

  Maybe I could save them both.

  “I . . .” I shook my head. “I searched for a way to . . . I spent more than a . . .” I shook my head harder. “I spent more than a year trying to find a way to . . .” I looked at my godmother. “How? How did you do it?”

  She looked back at me, her lips curled into something that wasn’t precisely a smile. “Oh, sweet child. Information of that sort is treasure indeed. What have you to trade for such a precious gem of knowledge?”

  I clenched my teeth. “It’s always about bargains with you, isn’t it.”

  “Of course, child. But I always live up to my end. Hence, my protection of you.”

  “Protection?” I demanded. “You spent most of a couple of decades trying to turn me into a dog!”

  “Only when you strayed out of the mortal world,” she said, as if baffled at why I would be upset. “Child, we had a bargain. And you had not willingly provided your portion of it.” She smiled widely at Mouse. “And dogs are so charming.”

  Mouse watched her with calm, wary eyes, his body motionless.

  I frowned. “But . . . you sold my debt to Mab.”

  “Precisely. At an excellent price, I might add. So now, all that remains twixt thou and I is your mother’s bargain. Unless you would prefer to enter another compact, of course . . .”

  I shuddered. “No, thank you.” I finally lowered my shields. The Leanansidhe beamed at me. “I saw you in Mab’s tower,” I said.

  Something dark flickered through her emerald eyes, and she turned her face slightly away from me. “Indeed,” she said quietly. “You saw what it means for my queen to heal an affliction.”

  “What affliction?”

  “A madness had beset me,” she whispered. “Robbed me of myself. Treacherous gifts . . .” She shook her head. “I can think on it no more, lest it make me vulnerable once again. Suffice to say that I am much better now.” She stroked a fingertip over an icy white streak in her hair. “The strength of my queen prevailed, and my mind is mine own.”

  “Ensuring the well-being of my spiritual self,” I murmured. Then I blinked. “The garden, the one on the other side of this place . . . It’s yours.”

  “Indeed, child,” she said. “Did you not think it strange that in your turmoil-strewn time here none of your foes—not one—ever sought to enter from the other side? Never sent a spirit given form directly into your bed, your shower, your refrigerator? Never poured a basket of asps into your closet so that they sought refuge in your shoes, your boots, the pockets of your clothing?” She shook her head. “Sweet, sweet child. Had you walked much farther, you would have seen the mound of bones of all the things that have attempted to reach you, and which I have destroyed.”

  “Yeah, well. I nearly wound up there myself.”

  “La,” she said, smiling. “My guardians were created to attack any intruder—including one that looked like you. We couldn’t have some clever shapeshifter slipping by, now, could we?” She sighed. “You took a terrible toll on my primroses. Honestly, child, there are elements other than fire, you know. You really ought to diversify. Now I have two gaping maws to feed instead of one.”

  “I’ll . . . be more careful next time,” I said.

  “I should appreciate such a thing.” She studied me quietly. “It has been true for your entire lifetime, child. I have followed you in the spirit world. Created guardians and defenses ’pon the other side to ward your sleep, to stand sentinel over your home. And you still have only the beginnings of an idea of how many have tried.” She smiled, showing her delicately pointed canine teeth again. “Tried, and failed.”

  Which also explained how she was always near at hand whenever I had entered the Nevernever. How she would be upon my trail in seconds whenever I went in.

  Because she had been there, protecting me.

  From everything but herself.

  “Now, then,” she said, her tone businesslike. “You left a considerable trove of equipment in my garden for safekeeping.”

  “It was an emergency.”

  “I had assumed that,” she said. “I will, of course, safeguard it or return it, as you wish. And, should you perish, I will deliver it to an heir of your designation.”

  I let out a weary laugh. “You . . . Of course you will.” I eyed Mouse. “What do you think, boy?”

  Mouse looked at me, and then at Lea. Then he sat down—but still kept watching her carefully.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think that, too.”

  The Leanansidhe smiled widely. “It is good that you have taken my lessons to heart, child. It is a cold and uncaring unive
rse we live in. Only with strength of body and mind can you hope to control your own fate. Be wary of everyone. Even your protector.”

  I sat there for a moment, thinking.

  My mother had prepared protection for me with considerable foresight. She had anticipated my eventually looking for and finding my half brother, Thomas. Had she prepared other things for me, as well? Things I hadn’t yet guessed at?

  How would I pass on a legacy to my child if I knew that I wasn’t going to be alive to see it happen? What kind of legacy did I have, other than a collection of magical gear that anyone could probably accumulate without help, in time?

  My only real treasure was knowledge.

  Ye gods and little fishes, but knowledge was a dangerous legacy. I imagined what might have happened if, at the age of fifteen, I had learned aspects of magic that had not come to me on their own until I was over thirty. It would have been like handing a child a cocked and loaded gun.

  A safety mechanism was needed—something that would prevent the child from attaining said store of knowledge until she was mature enough to handle it wisely. Something simple, but telling, for a child. A wizard child.

  I smiled. Something like being able to admit one’s own ignorance. Expressed in the simplest possible form: asking a question. And, as I now knew, my mother had not been called “LeFay” for nothing.

  “Godmother,” I asked calmly. “Did my mother leave anything for you to give me when I was ready for it? A book? A map?”

  Lea took a very slow, deep breath, her eyes luminous. “Well,” she murmured. “Well, well, well.”

  “She did, didn’t she.”

  “Yes, indeed. But I was told to give you fair warning. It is a deadly legacy. If you accept it, you accept what comes with it.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “It varies from one individual to the next. Your mother lost the ability to sleep soundly. It might be worse for you. Or it might be nothing.”

  I thought about that for a moment, and then nodded. “I want it.”

  Lea never took her eyes off me. She lifted her empty palm, closed her fingers over it, and opened them again.

  A small, gleaming ruby, bright as a drop of blood, carved in a pentagon, lay in her hand.

  “It is the sum of her knowledge of the Ways,” Lea said quietly. “Every path, every shortcut, every connection. She developed enough skill at searching them out that she was eventually able to predict them. Ways may change from decade to decade, but your mother knew where they were and where they would be. Very few of mine own kind can say as much.” She narrowed her eyes. “That knowledge is the burden I hold in my hand, child. Mine own belief is that it will destroy thee. The choice must needs be thine.”

  I stared at the gem for a long moment, forcing myself to breathe slowly. All the Ways. The ability to travel around the world without concern for geography. Knowledge like that could have won the war with the Red Court almost before it began. Whoever possessed that knowledge could regard laws with utter impunity, avoid retribution from mortal authorities or supernatural nations alike. Go anywhere. Escape from damned near anything. Gather more information than anyone else possibly could.

  Hell’s bells. That gleaming little gem was a subtle strength that had the potential to be as potent as any I had seen. Such power.

  Such temptation.

  I wondered if I’d be able to handle it. I am not a saint.

  At the same time, I had never seen a tool so obviously intended to help a man Show Up for his little girl. No matter where she was, I could go to her. Go to her and get away clean.

  Maggie.

  I reached out and took the gem from my godmother’s hand.

  16

  “Harry,” Molly called from up in the living room. “I think they’re waking up.”

  I grunted and lifted my pentacle necklace to examine it. The little pentagonal ruby had been quite obviously cut for this particular piece of jewelry. Or it had been before I’d been forced to use the necklace as a silver bullet. My little pentacle, the five-pointed star within a circle, had been warped by the extremes of stress I’d subjected it to. I’d been straightening it out with the set of jeweler’s tools I used to update Little Chicago.

  The jewel abruptly snapped into the center of the pentacle as if into a socket. I shook the necklace several times, and the gem stayed put. But there was no point in taking chances. I turned it over and smeared the whole back with a big blob of adhesive. It might not look pretty from the front after it had dried, but I was pressed for time.

  “That’ll do, pig,” I muttered to myself. I looked up to Bob’s shelf, where Mister was sprawling, using a couple of paperbacks for pillows while he amused himself dragging his claws through the mounded candle wax. I reached up to rub his ears with my fingertips, setting him to purring, and promised myself I would get Bob back soon: For the time being, he was, like the Swords, too valuable and too dangerous to leave unguarded. In Lea’s bloodthirsty garden, they were probably safer than they had been in my apartment in the first place.

  I left my mother’s amulet and the glittering ruby sitting on my worktable so that the glue could dry, and padded up the stepladder.

  I had hefted Susan up onto the sofa and fetched a pillow for her head, and a blanket. Molly had managed to roll Martin onto a strip of camping foam, and given him a pillow and a blanket, too. Mouse had settled down on the floor near Martin to sleep. Even though his eyes were closed and he was snoring slightly, his ears twitched at every sound.

  While I had been in the lab, Molly had been cleaning up. She probably knew where all the dishes went better than I did. Or she was reorganizing them completely. Either way, I was sure that the next time I just wanted to fry one egg, I wouldn’t be able to find the little skillet until after I had already used the big skillet and cleaned it off.

  I hunkered down next to Susan, and as I did she stirred and muttered softly. Then she jerked in a swift breath through her nose, her eyes suddenly opening wide, as if she were panicked.

  “Easy,” I said at once. “Susan. It’s Harry. You’re safe.”

  It seemed to take several seconds for my words to sink in. Then she relaxed again, blinked a few times, and turned her head toward me.

  “What happened to me?” she asked.

  “You were mistaken for an intruder,” I said. “You were hit with a form of magic that made you sleep.”

  She frowned tiredly. “Oh. I was dreaming. . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was dreaming that the curse was gone. That I was human.” She shook her head with a bitter little smile. “I thought I was done having that one. Martin?”

  “Here,” Martin slurred. “I’m all right.”

  “But maybe not for long,” I said. “The apartment’s wards are down. We’re naked here.”

  “Well,” Martin said in an acidic voice. “I think we learned our lesson about where that leads.”

  Susan rolled her eyes, but the look she gave me, a little hint of a smile and a level stare with her dark eyes, was positively smoldering.

  Yeah. That had been pretty good.

  “Did you guys find out about our tail?” I asked.

  “Tails, as it turns out. Three different local investigative agencies,” Martin supplied. “They were paid cash up front to follow us from the time we arrived. They all gave a different description of the woman who hired them. All of them were too beautiful to believe.”

  “Arianna?” I asked.

  Martin grunted. “Probably. The oldest of them can wear any flesh mask they wish, and go abroad in daylight, hidden from the sun in the shadow of their own mask.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. That was news. I wasn’t even sure the Wardens had that kind of information. Martin must have been a little groggy from his naptime.

  “How long were we out?” Susan asked.

  “I got here about five hours ago. Sun’s down.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, as if bracing h
erself for something, and nodded. “All right. Martin and I need to get moving.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “The airport,” Martin said. “We should be able to be in Nevada by very late tonight or early tomorrow morning. Then we can move on the warehouse and look for more information.”

  “We discussed it, Harry,” Susan said quietly. “You can’t take a plane, and we’re counting the minutes. A jet will get us there in about seven hours. The car will take two days. There’s no time for that.”

  “Yeah, I can see your reasoning,” I said.

  Martin stood up creakily and stretched. “Entering the facility may require a reconnaissance period. We’ll have to determine its weaknesses, patrol pacing, and so on before we—”

  I interrupted him by slapping a piece of notebook paper down on the coffee table. “The storage facility is set into the side of a stone hill. There are some portable units stored outside in a yard with a twelve-foot razor-wire fence. A road leads into the hill and down into what I presume to be caverns either created for storage space or appropriated after a mining operation closed.” I pointed at the notebook paper, to different points on the sketch, as I mentioned each significant feature.

  “There is a single watchtower with one guard armed with a longbarreled assault rifle with a big scope. There are two men and a dog walking a patrol around the perimeter fence with those little assault rifles—”

  “Carbines,” Molly said brightly, from the kitchen.

  “—and fragmentation grenades. They aren’t in a hurry. Takes them about twenty minutes; then they go inside for a drink and come back out. There are security cameras here, here, and here, and enough cars in the employee parking lot to make me think that the underground portion of the facility is probably pretty big, and probably has some kind of barracks for their security team.”