by Jim Butcher
I’d stood there, just looking at them, while they tried to tease me into fighting. I hadn’t moved, or said anything, or done anything. I just stood there in a wall of silence and stillness, until that silence had become heavier and heavier. They had eventually been pushed back by it, and I had simply walked past them.
And I was doing the same thing again, letting the silence fuel their uncertainty.
I met Ebenezar’s gaze, and we both smiled faintly in acknowledgment of the memory.
“Well, gentlemen,” Ebenezar said, turning to face the Wardens. “You’ve heard the will of the Council, such as it is. But you should be advised that since you’d be doing something foolish at the behest of someone acting foolish, I won’t be assisting you.”
Mai’s head snapped around to focus on Ebenezar. “McCoy!”
Ebenezar bowed his head to her. “Wizard Mai, I would advise you not to seek a quarrel with the young man. He’s a fair hand in a fight.”
The old woman lifted her chin haughtily. “He was not truly your apprentice. You kept watch over him for a mere two years.”
“And came to know him,” Ebenezar said. He turned to eye Listens-to-Wind. “What did that raccoon pup you had think of him? You go on about what good judges of character young animals can be. Is he the sort of man who would involve himself in that kind of plot? You know the answer.”
Listens-to-Wind shook his head tiredly. “It isn’t about that and you know it.”
“If you do not assist us in subduing him,” Mai said, her voice crisp and thrumming with tension, “it could be considered treason, Wizard McCoy.”
“I am assisting you,” Ebenezar said. “By advising you to avoid conflict.” He paused and said, “You might try asking him.”
“Excuse me?” Mai said.
“Asking him,” Ebenezar said. He hooked a thumb in one strap of his overalls. “Ask him politely to come with you back to Edinburgh. Maybe he’d cooperate.”
“Don’t bother, sir,” I said. “I won’t.”
“Ancient Mai,” rumbled Warden Bjork. “If you would please return to the boat, we will see to this.”
I remained just as I’d been standing, and hoped that the others would be arriving soon. I didn’t want to start up the dance music until everyone had taken the floor, but if the Wardens pressed me, I might need to.
“Ancient Mai,” Warden Yorgi repeated. “Do you wish us to—”
He didn’t get to finish the phrase before there was a deafening roar and a helicopter swept over the hillside behind us, flying about an inch and a half above the treetops. It soared past us and then banked around in a turn over the lake, only to return and hover thirty feet above the shoreline, maybe a hundred yards away.
In the movies, special forces guys come zipping down on lines. I’ve even been the guy on a line once, sort of, though I was more sack of meal than Navy SEAL. But when the people jumping off the helicopter are vampires, you don’t bother with a lot of lines.
Or any lines. At all.
Three figures in white leapt from the hovering chopper, neatly flipped once on the way down, and landed together in a dancer’s crouch. Then they all rose, the movement as beautiful, smooth, and coordinated as anything you’d see at the Cirque du Soleil.
Lara and her two sisters walked toward us, and they were good at it. Lara was wearing a white sundress that showed off her curves, with two black leather belts that crossed on her hips. A handgun in a holster hung from one of the belts. The other belt supported a sword, a genuine rapier whose worn handle looked as if it had seen actual use. Her long black hair was pulled up in a net, and the top of her head was covered in a white cloth, a very Gypsy sort of look. She wore a choker made of pure platinum, the metal seeming to hold its own glow, even in the failing light, and a single large bloodred ruby hung from it.
As she walked, it was impossible not to notice the gorgeously feminine curves of her body, the casual sway of her hips from side to side, each movement emphasizing the fact that she carried deadly weapons. And, since it was raining on her white dress, it was impossible not to notice a whole lot of other things about Lara—such as the fact that other than the weapons and her shoes, it was all she was wearing.
I concentrated on keeping my tongue from hanging down past my chin, and forced my eyes to look elsewhere.
Her sisters were wearing much different gear. Though they also wore white, they had both donned what looked like motorcycle leathers—not like archetypical American bikers, but more like the gear you see professional racing motorcyclists wearing. It looked very high-tech, and was obviously armored. In standard gear, the armor was heavy plastic, there to protect the rider in the event of a collision or a fall. I was willing to bet that it had been upgraded to something a lot stronger in the Raith’s gear. They, too, were equipped with sidearms of both the past and present. Their hair was tied up and back, and like Lara, their skin was pale, their eyes were wide and grey, their lips dark and inviting.
I watched the three Raith sisters come and thought to myself that if there was any justice in the universe, I would get to watch that in slow motion.
Alas.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mai calmly lift a hand to Warden Berserkergang, motioning him to stand down. It didn’t surprise me. Ancient Mai had very strong notions of proper behavior and how it ought to be followed. She would never condone observable division amongst members of the Council where outsiders could witness it.
Lara stopped twenty feet away, and her sisters stopped a couple of feet behind her. Their eyes were on the Wardens, who returned the vampires’ stares with calm attention.
“Harry,” she said, her voice warm, as if we’d just run into one another at a soiree. “You are a wicked, wicked man. You didn’t tell me I’d have to share you with others tonight.”
“What can I say?” I asked, turning to face Lara. I smiled at her and bowed my head without taking my eyes off her. It was a more enjoyable paranoia than I’d observed for the Wardens, if no less wary. “I used to be a trusting, gentle soul, but the rigors of the cruel world have made me cynical and cautious.”
Lara looked from the Wardens to me, her expression speculative. Then she gave them a smile that could have melted plate steel and walked to me, somehow making a swagger look perfectly feminine. She extended both hands to me as she came.
I smiled in return, though mine was a lot stiffer and more artificial, and whispered, through my smiling teeth, “You have got to be kidding.”
She cast her eyes down demurely, toning the smile down to a smirk, and breathed, “Be nice to me, wizard mine, and I’ll return the favor.”
I don’t think I hesitated very long before I offered her my hands in return. We clasped them. Her fingers were silken-smooth and very cold. She smiled radiantly and inclined her head to me, a slow, graceful, formal gesture.
Then, faster than I could blink, much less move, she smacked me in the kisser.
She used her open hand, which prevented the blow from being a lethal one. Even so, it hit like a club. It knocked me several steps back, spinning me as I went, and I wound up caught in a drunken corkscrew that ended with my ass hitting the ground ten feet away.
“Once again you have lied to us,” Lara snarled. “Used us. I have had my fill of your deceits, wizard.”
I sat there with my mouth open, wondering if my jaw would start wobbling bonelessly in the rising breeze.
Fury radiated from her in a cold sphere, and every fiber of her body looked ready to do violence. She faced me with the members of the Council on her left, the darkness of the forest on her right. I focused on my shield bracelet, certain that there was every possibility that she might be about to draw her gun and plug me.
“If my brother is not returned to me whole this night,” she continued, her voice cold and deadly, “there will be blood between us and my honor will not be satisfied until one of us lies dead on the dueling ground.”
And then she winked at me with her right eye.
> “Do you understand?” she demanded.
“Uh,” I said, trying to move my jaw. It was apparently whole. “Yeah. Message received.”
“Arrogant child.” She spat on the ground in my direction. Then she turned and walked purposefully toward the Senior Council members. She stopped about ten feet from Ancient Mai, just before the Wardens standing behind her would have snapped and started hurling thunder and fury. She came to a graceful stance of attention, and then bowed, rather deeply, to Ancient Mai.
Mai’s face revealed nothing. She returned the gesture, bowing less deeply.
“It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh,” Lara said. “You must be Ancient Mai.”
“Lara Raith,” Mai replied. “I had not anticipated your presence at this meeting.”
“Nor I yours.” She gave me a rather disgusted glance. “Courtesy, it seems, is a devalued commodity in this world.” She bowed again, to Ebenezar and Listens-to-Wind, and greeted them by name. “Your reputations, gentlemen, precede you.”
Injun Joe nodded without speaking.
“Lady Raith,” Ebenezar said, calmly. “Touch that boy again and the only things left for your kin to bury will be your five-hundred-dollar shoes.”
“Ai ya,” Ancient Mai said in a flat tone.
Lara paused at Ebenezar’s statement. It didn’t rattle her, precisely, but she gave Ebenezar another look and then inclined her head to him. “Gentlemen, lady. Obviously we both have urgent concerns that must be addressed. Equally obviously, none of us anticipated the presence of the other, and a violent incident would benefit no one. On behalf of the White Court, I propose a formal agreement of nonaggression for the duration of this meeting.”
Ancient Mai gave Ebenezar a hard look, then lifted her chin slightly and turned away, somehow giving the impression that she had formally dismissed him from reality. “Agreed,” she said. “On behalf of the Council, I accept the proposal.”
I managed to stagger back to verticality. My wounded head felt like Lara had split it open, and I’d have a hand-shaped bruise on my cheek, but I wasn’t going to sit there moaning about getting slapped by a girl. Granted, the girl was hundreds of years old and could change a fire truck’s tires without using a jack, but there was a principle at work here. I got to my feet and then walked carefully over to stand beside Ebenezar, facing the vampires. One of the Wardens there made a little room for me, all his attention focused forward on Lara and her sisters.
Heh. They were much more comfortable with me when I was aimed at an enemy. I tried to keep a running portion of my awareness focused on Demonreach. I had done as much as I could in assembling this group. I was counting on my estimate of the killer to take it to the next level, and until he showed up, I had to keep stringing both Lara and the Council along.
The best way to do that, for the moment, was to keep quiet and let them talk.
“I suppose the first thing we must do is share knowledge,” Lara said to Ancient Mai. “Would you prefer it if I went first?”
Mai considered that for a moment and then bowed her head in a slight acknowledgment.
Lara proceeded without further ado. “My brother, Thomas Raith, has been taken by a skinwalker, one of the ancient naagloshii. The skinwalker has offered an exchange. My brother for Warden Donald Morgan.”
Mai tilted her head to one side. “How is Dresden involved in this matter?”
“He claims that he is attempting to establish Warden Morgan’s innocence in some sort of matter internal to the Council. As a gesture of goodwill to the Council and to help keep the peace within Chicago, I have instructed my brother to offer reasonably low-risk aid and assistance to Dresden.” She glanced at me. “He has abused my good intentions repeatedly. This time, he somehow involved my brother in his investigation, and Thomas was ambushed by the skinwalker.”
“And that is all?” Mai asked.
Lara glared at me again, and seemed to visibly force herself to take a moment to think. “He claims that a third party was behind Warden Morgan’s predicament, and attempting to set the Court against the Council. To my surprise, my own investigation did not immediately disprove his statements as lies. It seems possible that one of my financial managers may have been somehow coerced into embezzling the contents of a considerable account. Dresden claims the money was sent to an account that was made to appear to belong to Warden Morgan.”
Mai nodded. “Was it?”
Lara shrugged elegantly. “It is possible. My people are working to find evidence that will establish what happened more precisely.”
Mai nodded and was still for several seconds before she said, “Despite how carefully you have danced around the subject, you know exactly why we are here.”
Lara smiled very slightly.
“The tale Dresden tells us lacks the credibility of simplicity,” Mai continued. “Despite how carefully you have danced around saying the actual words, it seems that you wish us to believe that the White Court was not involved in the matter of LaFortier’s death. Thus, your story, too, lacks the credibility of simplicity.”
“In my experience, matters of state are rarely simple ones,” Lara responded.
Mai moved a hand, a tiny gesture that somehow conveyed acknowledgment. “Yet given recent history, the actions of a known enemy seem a far more likely source for LaFortier’s murder than those of some nameless, faceless third party.”
“Of course. You are, after all, wizards,” Lara said without a detectable trace of irony. “You are the holders of great secrets. If such a group existed, you would surely know of it.”
“It is possible that I am unfairly judging your people in accusing them of plotting LaFortier’s death,” Mai replied, her voice utterly tranquil. “You are, after all, vampires, and well-known for your forthright and gentle natures.”
Lara inclined her head, smiling faintly. “Regardless, we find ourselves here.”
“That seems incontrovertible.”
“I seek the safe return of my brother.”
Mai shook her head firmly, once. “The White Council will not exchange one of our own.”
“It seems to me,” Lara said, “that Warden Morgan is not in your company.”
“A transitory situation,” Mai said. She didn’t look at me, but I felt sure that the steel in her voice was aimed in my direction.
“Then perhaps a cooperative effort,” Lara said. “We need not allow the skinwalker to take the Warden.”
“Those who ally themselves with the White Court come to regret it,” Mai replied. “The Council has no obligation to assist you or your brother.”
“Despite the recent efforts made on your behalf by my King and his Court?” Lara asked.
Mai faced her without blinking and said nothing more.
“He is my blood,” Lara said quietly. “I will have him returned.”
“I appreciate your loyalty,” Mai said, in a tone that suggested she didn’t. “However, this matter of the skinwalker wishing an exchange is hardly germane to where we stand at the moment.”
“Actually,” I said. “It kind of is, Ancient Mai. I had someone tell Shagnasty where to meet me tonight. Depending on how he crosses the water, he could be here any moment.”
Ebenezar blinked. Then he turned his face to me, his expression clearly asking whether or not I was out of my damned mind.
“Wile E. Coyote,” I said to him soberly. “Suuuuuuper Genius.”
I saw him thinking and I recognized it when my old mentor got it, when he understood my plan. I could tell because he got that look on his face I’ve only seen when he knows things are about to go spectacularly wrong and he wants to be ready for it. He let his staff fall to rest against his chest and idly dug in a pocket, his eyes flicking across the woods around us.
I don’t know where Mai’s head was, or if she worked out anything at all. I had a feeling that she wouldn’t. Since her thought processes would all have to start from given assumptions that were incorrect, she didn’t have much of a chance of coming t
o a correct conclusion.
“All that means,” she said to me, “is that it would be wise to finish our business here and retreat from this place.”
“Sadly, I am reaching a similar conclusion,” Lara said deliberately. “Perhaps it is time for this meeting to adjourn.”
Behind her, one of her sisters shifted one hand very slightly.
Lightning flashed overhead, and thunder forced a pause into the conversation. The wind picked up again, and Listens-to-Wind suddenly lifted his head. His gaze snapped around to the north, and his eyes narrowed.
An instant later, I sensed a new presence on the island. More people had just touched down onto the far side of the bald hill where Demonreach Tower stood. There were twelve of them, and they began moving toward the hilltop at inhuman speed. White Court vampires, they had to be.
Seconds later, another pair of humanlike presences simply appeared in the woods four hundred yards away. And if that wasn’t enough, two more people arrived on the northwest shore of the island.
Mai took immediate note of Injun Joe’s expression and tilted her head, staring hard at Lara. “What have you done?” she demanded.
“I have signaled my family,” Lara replied calmly. “I did not come here to fight you, Ancient Mai. But I will recover my brother.”
I focused on the two smaller groups, both of them pairs of new presences, and found that their numbers were growing. On the beach, many, many more pairs of feet had begun beating the ground of Demonreach, thirty of them or more. In the forest nearby, a presence that the island had never before encountered appeared, followed by more and more and more of the same.
There was only one explanation for that—the new arrivals were calling forth muscle from the Nevernever. I was betting that the pair on the beach was Madeline and Binder, and that he had begun calling out his grey men the moment his feet hit the ground. The two who had simply appeared in the forest had to have taken a Way and emerged from the Nevernever onto the island directly. It was possible a second summoning like Binder’s was under way, but I thought it far more likely that someone had gathered up support and brought it with them, through the Way.