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Tuesday
What I wanted was to snuggle up in bed and sleep for a week.
What I did was pull a worn, nondescript shoebox from under my daughter’s bed, take it to my own, then crack the lid and whisper inside, “Bonnie, check all the wards, and run a scan for any unusual magic or electronic devices. Pay particular attention to the basement and lab.”
“I’ve never done that before,” a tiny voice whispered back.
“I know, but it’ll be easy. Just like Bob showed you.” I could almost feel Bonnie’s apprehension. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”
She let out a small sigh. “Okay.” A trail of faint green sparks dribbled out into the wall, disappearing after a few seconds. I pulled up the comforter and curled around Bonea’s box, letting my eyes close. She’d wake me when she was through, and I didn’t dare examine my lab before getting a better idea of what had happened to it.
I’d barely started to relax when Bonnie’s panicked words startled me. “What’s happening to Bob? He wouldn’t tell me!”
I forced my eyes open again. The spirit coalesced into a swirl of green, pulsing rapidly, obviously upset.
“Someone took Bob’s skull,” I replied, and she gave a thin wail of anguish.
“That means he’s gone!” Then Bonnie dissolved into tiny glimmers flickering chaotically. “But he’s not gone. He’s still here, and he’s in pain. How can we help him?”
“Bonnie, listen to me. We’ll get Bob’s skull back. In the meantime, the castle is helping protect him from the people who took him. But because his spirit is tied to that skull, the protection won’t last long. To help him, I need to get back into my lab, and to do that, I need you to make sure the lab is safe. Whoever took him might have left something nasty behind. I know it’s hard, because you’re worried about him. But I need your help. Can you do that?”
“I… I think so,” she finally replied in a very small voice. “I’m scared.”
“It’s all right to be scared. I’m scared for Bob, too. It’s hard to do things when we’re scared, but we do them anyway because we know they’re right. Because they’ll save lives, or protect those we love, or help us get our friends back.” I made it sound convincing, because I wasn’t sure I could get Bob back. Not in time, at least.
Her frantic spins slowed. “All right, I’ll do it.” She streamed into the wall above my head and vanished again into the castle’s defense system.
This time when I closed my eyes, I drifted off in a matter of minutes. I had hopes for a dreamless sleep, or at least something pleasant.
What I got was my subconscious.
We were seated in a cozy room, stone fireplace taking the chill out of the air.
I was wearing what I’d fallen asleep in: duster over my long-sleeve gray Henley, jeans, and boots I hadn’t bothered to remove. My double was in black pants and a fitted shirt, his neatly-trimmed goatee a mockery of every attempt I’d ever made at growing out my beard.
He took one look at my disheveled appearance and sighed. “Harry, Harry, Harry. We’ve really got to improve your taste in clothes, now that you’re a vampire’s personal gigolo.”
I glared at him, my face burning. “That is not what happened. At all.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Believe what you want, but we both know the truth. She was spectacular, wasn’t she? Besides,” he continued before I could start yelling, “that’s not why I’m here. Well… it’s sort of why I’m here. You iced Mavra - and good job nearly getting killed yourself - but you’re forgetting the larger picture.”
I bit back a nasty reply, though by his smirk he knew what I was thinking. “And what’s that?”
“Lara.”
“Lara? She’s with Barrowill. It’s only been… what, two days since I dropped her off?”
“Right. And what do you suppose has been happening inside the White Court while you’ve been distracted?”
I grimaced. “Nothing good.”
“And what do you plan to do about that?”
His condescending tone pissed me off. I jumped to my feet to tower over him. “Look. I really need sleep, not be reminded of all the other disasters going on in my life that I can’t deal with right now. So quit being a jackass and let me sleep. And give me something pleasant to dream about. I’ve seen enough death for one night.”
My double held up his hands in mock surrender, still with that damn smirk on his face. “Fine, have it your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The next thing I knew was Bonnie whispering in my ear. “Harry?”
“I’m awake,” I sighed, wondering how long I’d been asleep. I sensed the sun was up, so it’d probably been a few hours, but not nearly enough for how exhausted I was.
“None of the wards have been tampered with. Several are still recharging through the ley line, the one in your closet is permanently broken, and the ward inside the front door will need to be powered up since it isn’t tied into the castle.
“I have found unusual traces of residual magic in the basement around the lab’s door and in the lab itself. There is also a runestone secured to one of the lab’s walls, hidden in a corner and not easy to detect. It appears dormant, but I sense magic inside.”
Fucking Marcone. “Anything else?”
“I reactivated the threshold’s protection. It was taken down by strong necromancy, exploiting a flaw in the original design. I know how to fix it, now that I have examined the residual energy. I can show you later.”
I pushed myself upright and rubbed my eyes. “Thanks, Bonnie.“
I took a bracingly cold shower, because a warm one would’ve put me right back to sleep. It was awkward with only one hand; I shoved the other into a plastic bag to prevent the sutures from getting wet.
I also took the time to shave, since I hadn’t for several days.
I called Will. He and Georgia were still in the hospital, and she was sleeping. The doctors said Georgia’s kidney suffered mild bruising but should heal on its own in the next two weeks. Provided there were no complications, Georgia was set to be released tomorrow morning, home in time for Thanksgiving.
I sagged in relief. The last I’d seen her, she’d been unconscious and in Will’s arms as he carried her out to their car. I didn’t bother telling him about Bob. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, and I wanted him focused on his wife.
Then I called Michael, gave him the quick version of the night’s events since Will had already spoken to him. When I reached the part with Marcone and Amoracchius, which Will hadn’t seen, Michael stopped me.
“He did what?”
“Marcone unsheathed the sword, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then I saw the angel inside it, or at least its wings, and heard it speak. Thorned Namshiel replied, and by the expression on Marcone’s face, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. It almost looked like… like he was grieving.” Spoken out loud, it sounded even more ridiculous than it had in my head.
“Hmm,” was all Michael said for a long moment. “When I first took up Amoracchius, I researched the legends behind the sword, and read a lot of things that couldn’t possibly be true. One rumor I found… it claimed the angel inside Amoracchius had once loved another angel who Fell. Afterwards, that angel begged to be bound to the sword, to atone for the evil the Fallen had perpetuated, and to offer redemption for those who were tempted by the Fallen’s promises.”
I played the scene over in my mind. “It would explain why he was able to touch Amoracchius. The sword let him.”
“Until Marcone fulfilled his duty by killing Mavra,” Michael added. “It is the Sword of Love, after all. And in the end, Thorned Namshiel rejected redemption. Or at least Marcone did.”
“Can one of the Fallen even be redeemed?” I asked.
“Harry, I believe anyone can be redeemed, so long as they truly believe in it. Even one of the Fallen. Though I have to admit, I have never heard of such a thing happening.”
And yet… Lash had redeemed herself in the end, sacrificed her life to save mine. A spirit, a mere shadow of Lasciel, sure, but that proved to me someday it could happen with the right person, and the right Fallen.
I finished up the night’s events, ending with Bob’s abduction.
“Be careful, Harry. There’s no telling what surprises might have been left behind in your lab.”
“I had Bonnie run a thorough inspection, so I have a pretty good idea of what’s there. About to head downstairs and deal with it.”
He made a noncommittal noise. “Do you intend on taking the skull back from Marcone by force?”
“I don’t know, though direct confrontation is probably off the books for at least a few more days. I can move under my own power, but I’m not going to be dancing with the stars any time soon. My magic hasn’t fully recovered yet, either.”
“Don’t do anything foolhardy,” Michael replied. “Don’t risk your life for that spirit’s sake. I’ve told you before that I do not trust it, and I dislike the influence it has over you. It has the potential for great evil.”
“In the wrong hands,” I replied, anger stirring. “Which is why I need to get him back from Marcone. Besides, Bob -“ I emphasized his name “- is my friend.”
“It isn’t your friend, Harry. It’s a tool. What did you tell me once? A way to store centuries of knowledge and pass that knowledge on to others. But consider this. If these spirits are so vital to being a wizard, why don’t more wizards make use of them?”
I didn’t have a good answer for him. In fact, I was the only wizard I knew that had access to a spirit of intellect, and I had two. And the Council had wanted Bob destroyed, back when he belonged to Kemmler.
My stomach twisted in knots as a new thought occurred to me. What would happen to Bob if Marcone destroyed the skull? Would he be able to use the castle’s wards as a substitute, or would he fade away? Could he share Bonea’s wooden skull, since I’d originally carved and enchanted it for him?
“Harry? You there?” Michael prompted after I’d been silent for too long.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I don’t know why there aren’t more, Michael. But I do know leaving him in Marcone’s hands is a recipe for disaster. What Thorned Namshiel could do with Bob’s knowledge…” I trailed off.
Now it was Michael’s turn for silence. “You’re right. It would be better off destroyed.”
Given a choice of leaving Bob in Marcone’s hands or destroying him completely, Michael probably wasn’t wrong. Still. “I’m getting him back.”
Michael let out a long sigh, and then proved once again how true a friend he was. “Let me know if you require my help. But please, think before you act. One last thing. You and Sanya are both expected here for Thanksgiving.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
After I hung up, I donned my duster and boots and went downstairs. Sanya’s bedroom door was still closed, so I let him sleep, figuring he’d be up eventually.
In the basement, nothing looked out of place. The rug covering the lab’s entrance was precisely where I’d left it, with no damage to indicate Gard had broken my wards. I extended my senses briefly, enough to do a thorough sweep and verify what Bonnie had discovered. Only trace amounts of magic remained, and nothing dangerous.
I flipped up the rug and opened the soot-stained trap door. Instead of going down the stairs, I stuck my head through the hole and surveyed the room. Wasn’t much to see since it was pitch black without candles or a lantern.
“Where’s the runestone?” I asked, and Bonnie’s green sparks flowed into the lab, stopping in one corner.
“Right here.”
“Come out and let me have a look.” Once she’d cleared the lab, I closed my eyes in concentration, then opened my Sight. A number of items I had in containers on the shelves lit up with unearthly glows, which wasn’t a surprise considering their sources. I focused on the corner, the rune’s magic inside its stone shimmering with icy blue power. I didn’t know rune magic, didn’t recognize what Gard’s rune was meant to accomplish. Maybe it was triggered by motion, or sound, or body heat. Or even by the presence of a practitioner.
“Can you tell what it does?” I asked Bonnie.
“Not precisely,” she replied after a moment’s hesitation, “though it does look similar to proximity runes I’m familiar with.”
Chances are the rune wouldn’t kill me. Had Marcone wished me dead, he had ample opportunity last night. Hell, he could’ve just let Mavra finish the job. It was probably what Bonnie suspected it was, a way to alert Gard to my presence in the lab. But I couldn’t risk it attempting to drain my magic or physically injuring me.
I studied the rune for a few minutes. No weak spots I could exploit, no node of power buried inside; simple, but elegant.
Brute force it is.
I gathered power, as much as I could spare considering how weak I was, shaping it into a spell I’d used before. “Forzare,” I snarled, pushing it out as I released my will. Hundreds of tiny needle-sharp lances of power flew towards the rune, embedding themselves into the stone. I followed it quickly with another spell, encasing the runestone in a bubble of energy. “Defendarius.”
The runestone exploded, the shield preventing the fragments from destroying my lab. A second explosion - more volatile than the first - obliterated all traces of the rune and nearly blew apart the shield. I frantically scrabbled for more power and poured it into the spell, holding it together until the rune’s residual energy faded. Then I released the spell and drew in a deep breath, closed my Sight and slowly sat up. The sudden change in position made the room spin for a few seconds.
“Bonnie, can you check the lab again?”
“Okay.” While she did, I stumbled over to grab a thick flannel robe from a hook on the wall and slid it on. The cold was affecting me more today than it had in years, thanks to the Mantle’s weakened state, but the robe also made me feel more like a wizard. More like myself.
Bonnie’s swirl of green sparks streamed from the lab and danced in front of me. “All clear. The rune’s magic is gone.”
“Thanks, Bonnie.” I climbed down the ladder, lighting the lantern I picked up with a tiny pulse of power. “Flickum bicus.” Bonnie followed me into the lab, settling on my work table in the center of the room.
“Are you going to save Bob?” she asked. The fear was back in her voice.
“Of course I am,” I replied, exuding confidence for her sake. “Just need the right spell.” I knelt next to the nearest table and hauled out one of the plastic containers underneath. “Where is it, where is it,” I mumbled to myself, sorting through and discarding book after book. Then I pulled out one covered in worn black leather, a seven-pointed silver star embossed on the cover. “Yes!” It only took me a moment to find the page I needed.
It was a variation on the tracking spells I often used, but with the right modifications - found on a different page - I’d be able to use Bob as the link to track his skull. In theory, they were really two parts of one whole, since Bob couldn’t exist without the skull’s protective wards, and they served to bind him.
I brought the book and lantern to my work table, jotting down a few quasi-physics equations in my notebook, playing with variables until it made sense. Then I looked at Bonea. “What do you think?”
She hovered over my notes. “It should work, provided the skull’s not warded.”
“They can’t ward the skull. Otherwise Bob wouldn’t be able to return to it.” Did I have enough magic to make it work? Tracking spells usually didn’t require a lot of power, but I’d spent a lot destroying the runestone. And I couldn’t use the anchor beneath my lab that tapped into a distant ley line, not if I needed an active circle.
Whatever I had would have to be enough.
I took a small, sharp knife from the shelf then settled myself inside the summoning circle, a concentric ring of three metals embedded into the concrete floor.
“Bob, I need you in the circle.”
“I… I can’t,” he said, a pale blue light on the ceiling above me. “There aren’t… wards… to protect… protect me in the lab.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea. I can’t have them interfering with the spell, or with you.”
Bonnie’s trail of green sparks surrounded Bob. “Hold on to me. I’ll help.” Both disappeared, then a comet of emerald fire flew towards me. As soon as they crossed the ring, I touched a fingertip to the circle and sent a pulse of will to close it. The barrier snapped up, cutting us off from ambient magic.
Bob and Bonea separated, the two spirits now on opposite sides of me.
I pricked my thumb, watching the blood bead on my skin, drip down into my cupped palm. Without prompting, Bob settled over the growing pool, my hand prickling from contact with his spirit. Closing my eyes, I focused my will, forming a detailed mental image of Bob’s skull. Then I envisioned a thick rope tying Bob’s spirit to his skull and coated it with my blood.
“Duo et unum,” I whispered, pushing will and power into the shape I needed the spell to take, then slowly opened my eyes as I held it fixed in my mind. “Okay, get ready. I need to break the circle.” Bonnie’s essence intertwined with Bob’s, a shimmer of green and orange that was beautiful to watch.
“We’re ready,” Bonnie said. Bob, uncharacteristically, said nothing.
I leaned closer to the two spirits. “Don’t worry, Bob. I got this.”
“I… I can’t hold on… much longer…” he replied.
“I know, and you won’t have to. Just a few hours, all right? Then it’s all the porn you can watch.” Bonnie, of course, was prohibited from Bob’s Den of Iniquity when he was otherwise occupied.
“Boobs…” he sighed dreamily, and I hid a smile. At least he hadn’t lost his appreciation of the female form.
“Exactly. Okay, on the count of three.” As I reached three, I slid my hand over the circle, breaking its energy. Bonnie shot through the ceiling and both spirits disappeared, just as a sharp tug in my chest yanked me from my body.
It was disorienting and terrifying, letting something blindly control my destination. I could see nothing, feel nothing, even though I had a sense of forward motion.
Until I smashed into a brick wall.
“The spirit should have been here by now,” someone said, the words echoing hollowly around me. Marcone.
“Are you sure this is the right skull?” Gard asked. “There are no markings on it. I had expected something more… formidable.”
“What else could it be? I doubt Dresden had the skull locked up in a warded lab simply because it was a souvenir. Besides, I can see the enchantments woven into the bone.”
Gard sighed. “Perhaps Dresden trapped the spirit somehow, preventing it from returning to its home.”
“Or he’s found it a new home. These enchantments are not complicated. Anyone with a modicum of talent could create one, given enough time.” Several loud taps in succession; Marcone was drumming his fingers. “We will wait one more day. If it does not return by then, I will summon it.”
“You’ve already attempted to summon it. Hasn’t worked so far.”
Marcone cleared his throat. “Yes, well… summoning a spirit without its true name is nearly impossible. But not entirely impossible. It requires a lengthy preparation I’ve already begun and the night of the new moon, which is tomorrow.”
Hell’s bells. One day, I had one day to figure out where Marcone had stashed the skull and get it back. I strained my senses, trying to catch a glimpse of where I was, or hear a sound that might provide a clue, but it was useless.
Dammit.
A knock. “Sir? Mr. McCrae has arrived.” Wait, I know that voice.
“Thank you, Ms. Demeter,” Marcone replied.
And I knew where Bob’s skull was.
I released my hold on the spell, snapping back to my body with enough force to knock me over. I caught myself before I slammed face first into the floor, smearing blood across the concrete. “Hell’s bells.” I cleaned up with a nearby rag before turning off the lantern and hanging it on its hook, then climbed up and closed the trap door. “Bob?”
“Here… boss,” he said softly, his blue light halfway up the basement wall.
“I’ve found your skull. I just need to round up a little help to get it back. Stay safe in the meantime.”
“I’ll… do my best.”
Upstairs, Sanya was puttering around the kitchen, his walking boot and jaw full of stitches unable to dampen his high spirits. “Harry!” he greeted me, mixing batter by hand in a large stainless steel bowl, bare arms dusted with flour. “I make pancakes, Russian kind, fill belly better than American kind!” He managed a wide grin despite the sutures pulling at his skin. “We need big breakfast to celebrate victory.”
My smile was fleeting, remembering Chandler’s screams, Lacuna’s limp form being carried by Molly, Georgia crying in pain. Marcone’s backstabbing. And he hadn’t even been invited. “Marcone stole Bob. Well, Bob’s skull. Bob’s still here in the castle, but the wards will only protect him for so long.”
Sanya scowled in anger. “We go now, get your friend back.”
“I appreciate that, but I have a better idea.” I brought out my notebook, flipped pages until I found the number I wanted, then dialed.
“Executive Priority Health. How may I assist you?”
“Ms. Demeter. Your boss has something of mine, and I want it back,” I all but snarled at her.
A long pause. “Dresden. You said no strings attached. Are you calling to threaten me?” Ms. Demeter - or Helen Beckitt, as I first knew her - had given up the location of John Marcone’s safe room several years back to the Denarians in the hopes they’d kill him. No such luck, but I made sure she knew that I’d discovered her betrayal, and that I had no intention of betraying her.
“No, but I would appreciate your help. I told you your secret is safe, and it is. I thought you might enjoy the opportunity to deprive your boss of a prize he went to a lot of trouble to obtain.”
Her nail clicked against the phone’s receiver several times. “What do you propose?”
I told her my plan. To my surprise, she agreed.
Then I hung up and enjoyed a plate full of thin Russian pancakes stuffed with raspberry jam and a small spoonful of sour cream.
They were delicious.
*
After breakfast, I put two frozen pizzas into the oven.
“Purpleweed?” She was a Kernel, and while Toot-toot was gone, in charge of his army. My army. There were always a few Little Folk in and around the castle, on patrol based on a schedule taped to the refrigerator. They even managed to follow it roughly half the time.
Purpleweed, a pixie shorter than the length of my index finger, buzzed into the room and saluted. “My lord!” Because she was so small and her voice so high, I had to Listen to hear her properly. I doubted Sanya could make out any words at all.
I saluted her back, pretending I knew what I was doing. “Kernel, The Glowing Skull has been stolen by the enemy. I require twenty of your sneakiest sneaks to help me rescue him. There are two pizzas in the oven for any who will assist, and I promise another two on successful completion of the mission.”
Her eyes grew large. “At once, Za Lord.” She flitted off, moving too fast for me to track.
“You think this Ms. Demeter will do what you ask?” Sanya asked, frowning.
I sighed. “Honestly? All I can do is hope she will. She detests Marcone, and this is an easy way to ruin his morning without putting herself in danger.”
Purpleweed returned, a line of Fae following her. They alighted on the kitchen table in almost perfect formation, dressed in matching black armor with knives and swords strapped to their waists. “My lord, as you commanded, twenty of the sneakiest sneaks.”
“We were promised pizza,” a pixie said, her aquamarine and pink hair in a braid over one shoulder.
“Plan first, then pizza, so listen up. I’ll drive you to a very tall building. Your job is to fly to the roof and get inside the air ducts, then follow the magic trail to a vent. Open the vent, take the skull, and bring it back to me.”
The air burst into buzzing, none of which I could understand. Purpleweed pulled a whistle out from under her armor, secured on a chain around her neck, and blew it several times. “Quiet! I am the Kernel, and you follow my orders. We bring The Glowing Skull back to the Za Lord, then we will be rewarded with pizza.”
“What about now?” another of her soldiers asked, a dewdrop faerie with a puff of blue-green hair, his wings fluttering behind him.
“So glad you asked.” I turned around and grabbed the pizza peel, pulling each out of the oven and dumping them onto a plate. I cut them into smallish squares so the Fae could lift them easily. “Enjoy the pizza with my compliments.” I set the two plates on the table, watching as the pizza was devoured in record time.
“I will get my sword,” Sanya said.
I glanced down at his boot. “You’re injured. You don’t have to come.”
“This is what friends do! We go steal back what was taken, make Marcone laughing stock.” Then Sanya grinned, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin, and clapped me on the shoulder. The still very-bruised shoulder, and I did my best not to yelp in pain. “Besides, your car stands out like Russian bear at tea party. We take mine.”
*
Sanya hadn’t been wrong about the car. The one he’d rented from the airport was a nondescript dark gray sedan, blending in seamlessly with the other cars on Chicago’s streets as I headed downtown. The twenty Little Folk covered the back seat, the interior of the car awash with buzzing from their wings and their chatter.
“Hope you have good insurance,” I told the Knight, who’d brought Esperacchius in its scabbard just in case, propped next to his feet and leaning against the door. “You know the car won’t last long with me driving.”
I felt him give me a sidelong look, then tapped his sword’s pommel. “You do remember name of sword, yes?”
The Sword of Hope. I let out a snort of humor. “Right.”
Twenty minutes later, I parallel parked across the street and a block down from The Madison. The hotel had been renovated by one of the construction firms in Marcone’s pocket, the second floor turned into Executive Priority Health, a fitness center disguising a high-end brothel. Marcone had provided me a lifetime gym membership, supposedly to keep me from wrecking the place. More likely he found the situation too humorous to pass up.
Marcone’s offices were on the floor above. Marcone himself tended to move around, not staying in one particular office for very long. A wise precaution for a man with as many enemies as he had. To be honest, I was a little surprised he’d brought Bob’s skull here, to one of his more well-known locations, rather than a temporary office at one of his construction sites. Maybe he believed the building’s security was enough to keep me out, or at least keep me out long enough to force Bob back into his skull.
But everyone underestimates the Little Folk.
“Kernel, please bring your soldiers up front.” I waited until the buzzing had stopped, all twenty Fae standing in formation on the dash. I pointed through the windshield to the building. “That’s where you’re going.” All turned around to gaze up at it. “Remember Kernel, to the roof, into the air ducts, follow -“
“Follow the magic trail to The Glowing Skull and bring it back,” she finished. “Do not worry, my lord. We are the sneakiest sneaks that ever sneaked a sneak!”
“If there’s trouble, don’t fight. Run. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”
Purpleweed saluted once more, then turned to her team. “You heard the Za Lord. We sneak, we do not fight.”
“Good luck, Kernel.” I pressed the button to roll down Sanya’s window. It shorted out a second later, but by that time the window was halfway down and the Fae poured out of it, heading straight for the top of what’d once been The Madison Hotel.
Thirty stories up.
I shuddered, remembering the sight of the men who’d fallen to their deaths a few weeks ago. Men I’d tossed off the roof of that very building.
I tried to suppress the feeling I’d just sent twenty Fae off to die. If Helen truly didn’t have enough magic to send a trail of it through the ducts, if she couldn’t get Marcone out of the office for a few minutes, if she’d changed her mind and decided not to help…
The minutes ticked by, and my fear grew.
“Do not frown,” Sanya said. “Worrying will not change what happens now. If little ones fail, we can always go in front door. Guns blazing, as you Americans say.” He tapped his sword once more with a grin, then drew a gun from inside his jacket.
I pushed his hand down. “Put that away. Last thing we need is for someone to see you waving a gun around and report us to the police.” I checked my shield bracelet and blasting rod, then glanced over my shoulder at the staff behind me. “While I wouldn’t mind making an entrance, now is not the time. Better if we can get Bob out by stealth with none the wiser.”
A distant alarm went off and I jerked my head around. It only took a few seconds to realize it was coming from The Madison.
“Hell’s bells,” I said, straightening in the seat. I started the engine, not sure if I should leave or drive towards the slowly growing mayhem as people streamed out of the building and gathered on the sidewalk.
Something large plummeted from the sky, heading straight for our car. “Oh, crap! How do you open the sunroof?” I nearly screamed, jamming several buttons in succession. Sanya reached out with a steady hand and flicked a switch on the center console. The sunroof opened, just in time to receive a bone-white skull surrounded by Fae. They landed in the back seat with a thump.
“Everyone all right back there?” I asked, pulling into traffic and taking the first left, heading away from The Madison as quickly as I could. I checked the rear-view mirror, trying to assure myself that Bob’s skull was fine and all of the Fae had made it out.
“We are victorious!” Purpleweed declared, buzzing once around my head to land on the dash, waving her tiny sword. It was steel, the handle carefully wrapped in tape to protect her hands from touching the metal. “We are the sneakiest sneaks that ever sneaked a sneak!” she declared, loud enough that even Sanya heard her easily.
He laughed in delight. “Tiny but fierce!”
“Are all your troops accounted for, Kernel?”
“They are,” she assured me, “but we had to pull the red lever that makes the bell ring to scare all the humans away. Bramble and Buttonwillow were almost captured!”
I wondered briefly how she knew what a fire alarm was, let alone what it did. “But everyone is all right?”
“Yes, my lord, and the skull undamaged!”
“Very good, Kernel. Once we’re home, I will prepare the victory pizzas as promised.”
A tiny cheer went up from the back seat, making me smile.
As we drove, I attempted to roll Sanya’s window back up, but the electronics in the door were burned out. None of the buttons did anything, though he managed to close the sunroof despite the alarming grinding noise it made as it slid shut.
“Sorry about the breeze,” I told him, gesturing to the window.
“Harry, I am from Russia. This is delightful springtime weather!” he said, chuckling.
The car made it back to the castle without further incident. I opened the back door to grab skull and staff, while the Fae swarmed ahead of me.
“Bob!” I shouted as soon I was inside the house. “I’ve got it!”
Orange sparks leapt from the castle’s wall and dove into the skull I held. A moment later, Bob’s eyelights flickered on, blinking at me, and he let out a relieved sigh. “That was close. Thanks for getting me back, boss. I wasn’t looking forward to working for Marcone, or that monster riding around with him. The things they’d make me do…”
“Never gonna happen,” I said, carrying him into the kitchen. He yawned once I set him on the counter.
“Gonna get some sleep. Night, Harry.”
“Night, Bob.” His eyelights winked out, and the skull by all appearances was just a skull. I wondered, not for the first time, whose skull it had been, and which wizard had created it.
“Are you not glad I came for visit?” Sanya asked, smiling. “It has been good vacation! We kill vampires, we steal Bob, we eat pancakes!”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” I said, then turned to the Fae surrounding Bob’s skull. “For the pizza!”
“For the pizza!” they echoed, buzzing around us excitedly. Say what you want, but investing in frozen pizzas was one of my better ideas.
*
The call I was expecting arrived a few hours later. Sanya was up in his room on his laptop, while I was reading on the couch in front of the fireplace, Bob’s skull on the floor next to me. I took him into the kitchen, not wanting him out of my sight. An irrational fear, as he was safe inside the castle, but for now one I couldn’t shake.
“Dresden.”
“Mr. Dresden. I have to commend you on the retrieval of the spirit’s skull. You managed to steal it back without even setting foot inside the building. You also exposed several security weaknesses that I have since remedied. Bravo.” He sounded smug, too smug for having lost Bob, and that made me wary.
“Should I expect you on my doorstep shortly? Perhaps you didn’t get a good look at what the wards of this castle can do with a real wizard in residence. I’d be happy to give you a personal tour.”
He laughed softly. “No, Mr. Dresden. I will not be paying you a visit.”
I decided to gamble, since I had little to lose. I honestly couldn’t afford a direct confrontation, even if the wards had been completely operational. “You’re a man who lives or dies by his reputation, Marcone. If you give me your word that this ends here, then I’ll consider the matter forgotten. If not, then I might have to mention to my Queen that a freeholding lord of the Unseelie Accords violated guest right of her Knight and stole something that didn’t belong to him.” It could’ve been an empty threat, as Mab had proven time and again that she didn’t clean up my messes. On the other hand, if the Winter Queen saw his duplicity as an attack against her person, she’d be more than a little pissed about it.
And Mab knew how to hold a grudge. Now that Marcone had centuries ahead of him rather than mere decades, would he take that risk?
The only thing I heard was the drumming of Marcone’s fingers on his desk as he weighed his options. “I have other methods for obtaining the knowledge I require than using your spirit. Very well, Mr. Dresden. This ends here. I give you my word.”
It was as good as I was going to get, so I let barely-suppressed rage creep into my voice. “Pull something like this again, and believe me, the next time you will see me coming.” I slammed the phone down, which made me feel marginally better. Good thing old phones were built to take the abuse.
“Hey, Bob?” I tapped a few times on the top of his skull, and his eyelights flickered to life.
“Yeah, boss?”
“What do you say we watch Barb Wire? I’m in the mood for a little high-heeled asskicking.”
“And boobs!” he declared with glee. “Don’t forget the boobs!”
I smiled as I picked up his skull, because they were precisely why I’d suggested that particular movie. “And the boobs.”