Chapter Text
Harry came back from Mouse’s afternoon walk to find an opulent car parked in front of his building, right where the cartoon jack-o-lantern his neighbors put was clearly visible. Since the fancier the car, the worse the trouble that was afoot, Harry drew in a deep breath and prepared his business face while still out of the visitors’ field of vision, readying himself for anything that could range from a rescue mission to solving an international incident. Mouse, the smart pooch that he was, picked up his mood and nudged his hand, earning him some well-deserved head scratches.
The chauffeur, a tall, burly man in the corresponding uniform, got out of the car and opened the door. He didn’t insult the passenger by offering her his hand to help her, though he remained in a solicitous posture. Harry’s first thought upon recognizing her was that the universe must be too bored to start throwing that kind of curves at him so late in the afternoon.
“Ancient Mai. Here. In person.” Harry mumbled to Mouse. “It’s gotta be the apocalypse.”
He had been so caught up in that idea that he almost failed to notice her companion, a young-looking man in white who joined her a few seconds later. They exchanged a few words before spotting him as he crossed the street, still half a block away.
Harry didn’t pick up his pace, but he smiled sheepishly, raised a hand, and waved his fingers hello. While the chauffeur didn’t dignify that with any of reaction, Ancient Mai pursed her lips in judgment. On the other hand, the young man, hands behind his back, smiled and nodded at him. He was handsome—not fairy-handsome, though—and that smile made him seem approachable. His was the kind of face that told a small, lost child that it was safe to ask for help. Whether said trust was warranted, it was yet to be seen, though.
This young man seemed to also be either of Chinese or of Chinese descent, and he wore a white band on his forehead with cloud motifs sewn on it. A long-forgotten passage Harry had read at some point in his life made an attempt to come up to the surface upon seeing it, struggling against the fog of years. Ancient Mai’s decision to start talking didn’t help. It frustrated him not to be able to give his mind enough time to fetch the knowledge. However, at this moment, he’d better remain aware of his surroundings.
“Wizard Dresden,” she said before Harry could ask to what he owed the honor. “You have before you Lan Sizhui, one of the most accomplished cultivators of the Lan Clan.” She then turned to her companion. “Master Lan, this is Wizard Dresden. Is this the one you seek?”
She said it as if she couldn’t believe it—rude—but also, and this was the most surprising part, as if she actually respected this Master Lan, youth and all.
“He is,” Master Lan replied, bowing hello to Harry, his hands now cupped in front of him. “A pleasure, Wizard Dresden,” he said in well-practiced English.
He also bowed to Mouse, who bowed back, lowering his head between his paws.
Dang it, that was cute. But, also, the dog not flagging him as an immediate threat put Harry enough at ease and convinced him to act like the adult he was, even if he didn’t want to.
“Likewise,” Harry replied, bowing back the best he could. “Say, if this is official Council business, we can continue the conversation upstairs. I have cocoa,” he added because, hell’s bells, if he was going to be a host, he was going to be a good one—if only to annoy the present company.
“Even though I’m here, it’s not official Council business just yet,” Ancient Mai said.
“But I would love some cocoa,” Master Lan interjected before she could continue.
With a grin, Harry obliged and got his key out to lead the guests to his apartment. He thought he was beginning to find this Master Lan agreeable.
The chauffeur remained downstairs in the car but the other two followed their host inside. Harry led the way up the stairs—just one high-caliber magic practitioner was enough to send the elevator plummeting to its doom; imagine three. Master Lan helped Ancient Mai, holding her by the elbow, and Mouse closed the procession. As they did, Harry went through what he had read about cultivators once upon a time.
When he first heard about them, he thought that they were farmers, which earned him a hearty laugh from his then-mentor Ebenezar McCoy.
“What they cultivate is energy—qi, they call it. They’re powerful warriors and a few of their clans are sought-after allies to the White Council.”
Then, Ebenezar gave Harry a book where he learned about how these people flew on their swords into the sunset, which had sounded very cool and was the one reason he remembered most of it. He bet Wardens couldn’t do that. Anyway, there had also been a roll call of the most important Cultivation Clans, which quoted the Lans as one of the most powerful families in the business, both in strength and wealth.
In short, if Ancient Mai hadn’t been there, Harry would have asked for an intensive training course on sword riding. Perhaps, if he played well his cards… When they reached his apartment, Harry made a show of lowering his protective wards just to give himself time to think how to make his request.
A short while later, both his guests shared Harry’s larger sofa while he sat on a single chair in front of them, each holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Mister had chosen Master Lan’s lap as his new bed, and pressed his face against the young man’s knee, snoring with the abandon of a kitten cuddling up with its littermates.
Master Lan scratched the cat’s head with one hand while he took happy sips of cocoa. Ancient Mai, on the other hand, stared down at her mug with disdain. She did drink it in the end, though, clearly not wanting to seem impolite.
As he drank from his own mug, Harry wondered who exactly this man was, capable of making someone who hated his guts act like this with just his gentle demeanor. How much sought-after were this sought-after allies Ebenezar told him about? What could they want with ol’ little him?
“Thank you. It was delicious,” Master Lan said, placing his empty cup on the table.
Relieved, Ancient Mai hurried to do the same, although her mug remained mostly full.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Harry said. “I can write down the brand for you if you’d like. You’ll find it in most supermarkets in Chicago.”
“I would love to.”
And that was the end of the niceties—which had been, indeed, nice for a change.
“So, to what do I owe the honor?” Harry asked. He kept his eyes on his guests at the same time he scratched Mouse’s back. The temple dog had sat down next to him as an undaunted guardian. Harry could only hope to look as cool as he felt.
“Master Lan has a request for you,” Ancient Mai said. “I was only asked to make the introductions.”
On the one hand, that meant why she had been in such a hurry to get things over with when they met downstairs. On the other, did that mean she could have waited in the car with the driver? That would have been golden.
Don’t get distracted, Dresden, he told himself and went back to pay attention.
“What kind of request?”
Master Lan grew serious. “A member of the Chicago magical community opened a portal in time to several centuries ago and brought an important person, a foundational figure for the Lan Clan, to the present. We would like to hire you to find him and send him back.”
“And deliver the culprit for a fit punishment,” Ancient Mai said. “Before you ask, yes, this task has been sanctioned by the senior members of the White Council,” she added, for sure hating to imply that Harry wouldn’t be in trouble for this.
On the one hand, ‘a fit punishment,’ was Council-speak for beheading, of course, because swimming against the currents of time was a big no-no. On the other hand…
“Shouldn’t you be sending the wardens to deal with this instead? We’re talking about a big violation of the laws of magic. Besides, wouldn’t sending someone back in time mean that I’d have to open the doors for a second time?”
“The portal remains open,” Master Lan replied. “Part of your task is to close it once you’re done with the primary objective. As of your other question, the Lan Clan Elders demand the task to be done by a local with familiarity with the area, a renowned magical prowess, and a talent for improvisation. We’ve done our research and believe you’re our man.”
Despite the blush extending over his face and the swelling of his chest, Harry did his best to maintain composure and a professional attitude.
“When you put it that way,” he murmured right before taking another sip of cocoa.
Master Lan’s smile grew a bit warmer. “I also believe the both of you will get along.” He fished something out of his pocket and offered it to Harry. “Here. Give him this. He’ll understand you’re there to help.”
Harry took the small clay reproduction of a long, white radish, its top linked to a gold chain. The body was carved with a few Chinese characters he couldn’t read, but they looked neatly made. Someone had spent hours of their life crafting this silly pendant.
Then, Ancient Mai announced the catch. “You have until the next sunrise. If you haven’t brought in the culprit by then, the Wardens will take care of it.”
The way she said it made Harry think she wouldn’t be sorry if he got caught in any resulting crossfire.
“Naturally, you’ll receive proper compensation.” Master Lan’s bright smile provided a heavy contrast to Ancient Mai’s not-so veiled threat. “One part now and the rest once you’re done.” He accompanied his words with a thick envelope he took out of his expensive-looking white jacket.
Even though he didn’t want to seem mistrustful, Harry had to take a peek inside. The envelope was, indeed, full of bills that his bank account would appreciate.
“Well, I guess we have a deal,” he replied.
“I appreciate your readiness,” Master Lan said. “However, we have two more things to address.” Gently, without waking the cat, he set Mister on the sofa. Then, he stood up and went to Harry, holding a yellow piece of paper between his fingers. It had more Chinese characters in black ink written on it. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“What for?”
Harry got his answer when Master Lan pressed the talisman against his throat. Harry felt a magic current in the place where the paper touched his skin. The jolt stopped instantly, however, and, when he scratched his neck, the paper was gone too.
“What was that?”
“An amulet that’ll help with the language barrier,” Master Lan said. “I like to call it the Babel Fish Charm.”
“I understand you’re a man of culture, Master Lan, but a heads-up would’ve been appreciated,” Harry said, doing his best not to pout. He did notice, however, Ancient Mai raising her eyebrows. “Can I help you?”
“You just spoke perfect Chinese,” she answered.
Without a reason to doubt her, Harry touched his throat again. “Holy—! I’d never done that. Am I doing it again? What if I need to talk in English? How long will the effect last?”
“Twenty-four hours,” Master Lan said. “Beyond the assigned deadline. The charm’s been extensively tested and we haven’t seen any side effects, either. You’ll speak the language you’re spoken to while the effect is on, so don’t worry about being unable to talk to your neighbors.”
“Man, this is amazing.” Maybe he could get some extra cash in the more touristic areas between the end of the mission and the magic wearing off. “What’s the second thing you mentioned?”
Master Lan’s sudden rueful look made Harry feel like he wasn’t going to like the next part. “This personage is dreadfully afraid of dogs.” He glanced at Mouse. “I’m afraid we’ll have to insult your companion and ask him to remain aside.”
Well, yes. Harry didn’t like that, but it was less bad than what he expected.
“Sorry, boy,” he said to Mouse, who scoffed. “Besides, you like spending time with the Carpenters, don’t you? I’m sure they’ll let you stay.”
Mouse scoffed again, this time sounding somewhat more resigned.
“Thank you,” Master Lan said, although addressing Mouse. Then, he turned to Harry. “We’ll leave it in your hands now.”
“Don’t mess it up,” Ancient Mai whispered on her way out. “The Lan Clan is extremely important. They could have handled this themselves, but chose to ask you for some reason.”
“Important enough to make the White Council withhold the wardens,” Harry mumbled. There had to be something else behind this—something big and ugly, given his luck. An elaborate trap, maybe. Yet, the weight of the envelope in his pocket was louder than his survival instinct’s. As a White Council-sanctioned task, this was a most delicate matter. Chances of literally losing his head were about the same either way, so he might as well get paid for it. “I won’t mess it up,” he promised, more to himself.
Ancient Mai grunted what Harry chose to interpret as her farewell.
With his guests gone, he went to make a phone call, hoping to convince Michael to take care of Mouse overnight despite the late notice.
Only then, Harry realized that he never asked what the person he should find looked like—or even his name.
Twilight fell as Harry got ready to leave.
“Aren’t you glad of having me around?” Bob asked from the copilot’s seat, where his skull had been carefully strapped. “Hey, watch the drooling!” he exclaimed when Mouse, who had taken over the entire backseat, went over Bob to get his muzzle out of the copilot’s window.
Harry smiled at the image as he adjusted the rearview mirror, then started the engine.
“Alright, here we go. To the Carpenters’!” First gear changed to second gear as they drove through the Halloween-decorated streets. For a second, Harry had forgotten it was Halloween Eve. This was going to be a night, with everything he had going on plus the increased magical activity. “So, Bob, what can you tell me about the Lan Clan?”
“I’m guessing that’s you ignoring the drooling problem.”
“Come on, Bob. Mouse’s behaving. Although, I can put you in the glove compartment if you want. That’ll keep you dry.”
“Ugh. Pass. Regarding your question, while the Lans have a reputation of being uptight, they’re also among the most righteous. All thanks to this old-timey guy called Hanguang-jun who taught his students to help those in need even if they couldn’t cough up the cash.”
“Okay. On the one hand, that’s admirable. On the other, the privilege of not having to work to eat is showing.”
“Speaking of privilege, I bet you can’t guess what he did next.”
“What?” Harry asked after Bob made too-long a pause.
“He married a necromancer with a terrible reputation.”
“I struggle to think of a necromancer with a good reputation,” Harry answered without missing a beat.
“This one got one—after the marriage, that is. Before that, thousands upon thousands were killed, graves were dug up, corpses walked all around the evil lair, etcetera.”
“And this necromancer got a recovery from that?”
“Hanguang-jun’s reputation and standing were that good. Also, they helped a lot of people together, so I guess that balances the scales.”
“I feel I should be taking notes. Either way, the energy signature of a cultivator should be different from a wizard’s, right? Can you track it?”
“Harry, Mouse can do that, you know?”
No, Harry hadn’t known—but he wasn’t going to admit it. “That’s the thing,” he said instead. “The person I’m looking for is, and I quote, ‘dreadfully afraid of dogs’. That’s why the client requested not to involve Mouse.”
“I see,” Bob replied. “You said it was also a very important historical figure, right?”
“Foundational, according to the client. Someone who will get along with me.”
At this point, any piece of information could be useful.
“I see, I see. Important, historical, will get along with you, afraid of dogs… Mmm….” Bob’s eye sockets lit up. “Huzzah! I know who you’re looking for!”
“Who?” Harry asked more annoyed at Bob’s second pause for effect.
“The necromancer I’ve been telling you about!”
So, time-traveling magic and necromancy in the same mission? And on October 30th? Joy.
“On the plus side,” Bob continued, “now you know what you’re doing.”
“Joke’s on you,” Harry muttered, eyes focused on the road. “I never know what I’m doing.”
Harry spent the rest of the trip wondering whether Ancient Mai would be so twisted as to set him up like this on purpose; Mouse, at peace with the universe receiving the wind on his face, and Bob’s eyes glowed in his skull at the rhythm of some tune he was humming.
Still about twenty minutes away from the Carpenters’ thanks to all the traffic caused by people attempting to go to costume parties, Bob interrupted his song. “Harry! Turn right on the next intersection!”
“Wha—?”
“Someone’s summoning ghosts by the handful. I see them passing by, all of them in the same direction—and I can also see the energy threads binding them. They’re strong, skillfully made. Beautiful, if you press me. Therefore, either that’s our guy or you’re about to score some extra points with the White Council for stopping whatever shit’s going on.”
The traffic was so slow that the spirit of intellect finished his speech before they reached the corner and with ample time for Harry to make his call. He decided to take that turn and follow the ghosts, entering a less busy street. A few minutes later, they were parking on the curb in front of a cemetery. Because of course.
The cemetery was already closed to the public, but when had that stopped anyone with enough determination and enough raw magical power? Harry got off the car alongside Mouse, straightened his duster, placed Bob’s skull in the crook of his elbow, grabbed his staff, and marched toward the entrance.
“Listen, gang. We need to watch out and be ready for the kinds of weirdos a graveyard attracts this time of year. People think they can come and do rituals—which they can, technically, but—”
Harry never got to finish that phrase before the main gate burst open. A bunch of teenagers dressed in black—the aforementioned weirdos—came out running and screaming, leaving the door open. Harry managed to intercept one of them.
“Hey! Hey! What’s going on?”
“Ghosts! Oh, my god, so many ghosts!”
“Wasn’t that what you came to see?” Bob asked.
The kid didn’t even react to the talking skull, probably thinking it had been Harry himself doing a ventriloquist act. Although he was probably too scared to think at all.
“Not like this! Please! I need to see my mom!”
Before he got out of the boy’s way, Harry slipped a business card into the pocket of his jacket. “If, after today, you or your friends start seeing anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, give me a call, alright? I can help.”
The boy gave the faintest nod and ran away, disappearing into the night with his friends. None of them seemed to be harmed for real, but with these things, it’d be best to cover all bases. In an ideal world, he would’ve performed a thorough check on them right then, but he had a necromancer to find before sunrise. At the moment, this was what he could do to thank them for sparing him from climbing the wall—he was getting too old for those stunts.
“Alright, Bob. Where to?” Harry asked as he strolled in.
“Go straight this path. When you start hearing the flute, follow the song.”
“The flute?”
“In technical terms, it’s a dizi.”
“Ah. A transversal flute?”
“Harry, did you just speak Chinese?”
“Oh, right. The charm. I’ll be speaking the language I’m spoken to for the next several or so hours. I didn’t know it could be triggered with one word.”
“Tell me the colors of the sky and the trees.”
“Black and black at this time of day. What for?”
“Your charm works even with High German!” Bob snickered. “So fun!”
“It’s for work.”
“Modern Turkish too, huh?”
“Stop it.”
“Fine, fine.”
Harry shook his head and kept on walking. After a few steps, he asked, “How many ghosts are we talking about?”
Bob’s eyes flickered. “At this point, closer to a thousand than I would like.”
“Of course. Anyone we know?”
“Nope.”
“Any hostiles?”
“So far no. But I make no promises regarding the one summoning them.”
Harry made a mental inventory of his gear and congratulated himself for bringing most of it—shield bracelet, blasting rod, and even a spare potion—just in case.
He heard the dizi soon after. The melody it played was soft and melancholic. Sweet, even. Nothing in it telegraphed the dangerous necromancer Bob had talked about. Which didn’t mean much.
Once Harry turned around a corner, the famous necromancer came into view, standing next to a mausoleum. Early twenties, long fingers dancing over a black dizi, and long, black robes fluttering behind him. He was tall, although not as tall as him, and had his long, dark hair pulled in a high ponytail. Despite the lamps around them being in a fixed position, the shadows gave the impression of dancing to his tune, and the atmosphere felt charged in a powerful way Harry had never felt before.
“Yup. That’s your guy,” Bob whispered.
“I gathered as much, thanks,” Harry whispered back.
The necromancer stopped playing and looked up at them with bright, intelligent eyes and, when he lowered the instrument, his mouth formed a huge grin that broke the ominous scene and his delicate features became even more alluring, although in a human and not fairy way, to Harry’s relief.
“Hello,” he called, waving a hand up above his head. “Could you by any chance tell me where I am?”
Harry made a sign for Mouse to stay behind a wall before approaching, staff in hand, aiming for a wise-yet-friendly neighborhood wizard look.
“Hi, there! Most happy to help. My name is Harry Dresden. I’m a wizard. You’re in a city called Chicago, far away from your home town both in space and time, actually.” He made a pause to let the gravity of his words sink in. “You’re a few centuries in the future, in fact. But not to worry! Master Lan sent me to find you and send you home.”
The necromancer tilted his head.
“Which Master Lan, specifically?”
“His name is Lan Sizhui,” Harry replied as he handed over the small clay radish on its chain. “He said to give you this.”
The necromancer’s eyes widened first in surprise, then in recognition. He reached out for the radish and turned it around in his dexterous fingers until he found the characters carved on it. Then, his face went from a sweet smile to a grin and, finally, he threw his head backward for a loud laugh.
“It must be a very funny inside joke,” Bob whispered.
“Quiet,” Harry warned him.
“Very well. If he sent you, then you must be okay.” Still grinning, the necromancer placed the radish and the chain in a pocket inside his sleeve and leaned forward for a better look at the skull in Harry’s arm. “Hello, there. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Bob. He’s a spirit of intellect.”
“Wei Wuxian,” the necromancer replied. “But you knew that already.”
“Of course,” said Harry, who hadn’t known that yet.
“I’m so relieved to find someone I can communicate with. Do you have any idea how many ghosts I’ve had to summon in order to find someone I could talk to?”
“A lot?”
“A lot! You know, I tried with the living first. I think I made some friends, but I couldn’t get my point across at all! I said one thing, they understood whatever and their pronunciation was all wrong! Someone gave this to me at some point, though. What is it?”
Harry unfolded Wei Wuxian’s piece of paper, took a look at the English text on it, and promptly gave it back, all while keeping his professional demeanor. “Congratulations. You won third place in a costume contest. It’s something people do around here this time of year.”
“Only third place? A costume?” Wei Wuxian hit his fist against his open palm. “Ah! I see. That explains why everyone's clothes are so weird. But also that nobody dresses like this anymore, doesn't it? A shame. I’m the height of fashion back at home. Are you the height of fashion in your hometown, Master Dresden?”
Nonchalant, Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I follow my own drum—although I like to think of myself as more stylish than most.”
Bob chuckled, which earned him a most terrifying wizardly glare.
Wei Wuxian snorted. “You two are funny!”
Harry shook his head. This Wei Wuxian really was easy to amuse. At least, he wasn’t on a mission to kill anyone or to destroy the city, always a good start. However, Harry had yet to complete the job.
“Thank you. Now, to send you back.”
“Sure. As soon as I find my husband.”
“Your husband?”
Wei Wuxian pouted. “My husband! He and I were kidnapped together!” He folded his arms. “The weird thing here is that Lan Zhan hasn’t found me. Maybe he’s caught up winning one of those contests you told me about. Either that or he’s helping someone in trouble. He’s that kind of person,” he added with a carefree shrug that somehow matched the now proud expression on his face. “My third choice is that he’s hunting down the person who brought us here. Or perhaps he’s doing everything at the same time.”
Well, no one commented on that during the briefing. But it wouldn’t be Harry’s life without a complication or two to keep him on his toes. Either way, allowing another fish out of temporal water to roam around Chicago unsupervised would be a bad idea. Most of all if said fish carried a sword and had a tendency to meddle. Not to mention that Harry also needed to hunt down the fool opening time portals.
“No problem,” Harry said. “If you have anything of his, I can cast a tracking spell.”
“If I have—? Ah! His headband! I’ve got it tied up around my—”
Harry didn’t get to find where Wei Wuxian had tied up his husband’s headband. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, next to the necromancer, and pressed down by a very fluffy and very heavy weight that threw itself at them with the urgency of a pixie targeting a pizza slice.
“Mouse? What—?” Bob’s yelling as he landed in the nearby bushes echoed in Harry’s ears when he looked up to see two darts embedded on the mausoleum wall next to them. Darts. Their attacker had dared to go against a full-fledged wizard, a necromancer with a list of war crimes as long as his hair, a temple dog, and a spirit of intellect, and he used something as pedestrian as darts? “I’m counting that as an insult,” Harry muttered.
“Is this a bear?” Wei Wuxian began as he tried to push Mouse away—a fair assessment, to be honest. It was only when Mouse sniffed his face and gently licked his cheek that the necromancer’s denial shattered, making him go as rigid as one of the corpses he used to raise.
“Hell’s bells. Mouse, go get whoever tried that shit. I’ll handle things here.” Immediately, Mouse jumped away and Harry busied himself grabbing Wei Wuxian by the shoulders to shake him. “Come on, man. Put yourself together!”
“D-dog!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, holding to his flute for dear life. “Dog! Hanguang-jun! Help!” He made himself small and closed his eyes tight. “Lan Wangji! Lan Zhan!”
Seeing that Wei Wuxian would not get on his feet on his own, Harry sighed and grabbed him like a sack of potatoes, throwing him over his shoulder.
“Should I charge extra for this?” he wondered when Mouse barked in the distance, which prompted Wei Wuxian to start thrashing all over him, almost kicking him in the face.
Yeah, he definitely should, he decided when the dizi failed to impale his ear by an inch.
Mouse came back to find his master rubbing Wei Wuxian’s back while the latter curled up against a wall closer to the entrance. He was breathing into a paper bag Harry had shoved in his pocket after eating a muffin earlier that day.
“It’s fine. You’re safe now.”
“No! It’s not fine!” Wei Wuxian said through a pout, looking at Harry with eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I called for my husband to rescue me and he didn’t come! He always comes no matter what! Where is he?” he asked, his voice cracking under sincere distress. After a beat of silence, the sound of leaves crunching under Mouse’s paws distracted him. “Oh, what’s that?”
Harry placed his hands on the sides of Wei Wuxian’s head and had him turn toward the wall. This guy’s attention span was worse than a pixie’s.
“Don’t move. Close your eyes and don’t ask questions. Just trust me, alright?”
“Wh—?”
“What did I say? Keep on breathing. I’ll be right back.”
With an upset-yet-wary expression, Wei Wuxian turned back to the wall and continued to breathe into the paper bag, even though he didn’t seem to need it as much as before. Meanwhile, Harry went to meet Mouse. The dog had understood the assignment and angled himself to stay out of Wei Wuxian’s sight. He did seem a bit sad at being denied a new friend, but his body language communicated that he would survive. To help him overcome this difficult moment, Harry gave him extra enthusiastic scratches behind his ears.
“Good boy,” he murmured, earning himself some tail wagging. “What do you have there?” Obedient, Mouse dropped the strands of hair wrapped around a piece of cheap fabric he got from the attacker. “Fantastic. We’ll use this to find Dart Guy later.”
Mouse already knew that, for sure, but Harry figured it might help build his confidence back.
“You’ll also help me find Lan Zhan, right?” came a whiny voice behind them. Wei Wuxian hadn’t turned to look at them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from participating.
“Actually, finding your husband is first priority,” Harry said. “We don’t even know if the person who threw the darts at us has anything to do with your being here.” Ah, he’d better come clean. “Let’s say that there’s no shortage of people who take the things I do a bit too personal.”
“You too? We should start a club! Haha!”
Despite the apparent levity and laughter, there was an undertone in Wei Wuxian’s voice that told Harry that was a topic to elaborate upon with some alcohol running down your veins—or maybe he was projecting. Either way, a change of topic sounded like a wise move. “So, you said something about a headband, right?”
“Yup. Give me a second. Now it’s your turn not to look,” Wei Wuxian added with a snicker.
Harry opened his mouth—and closed it promptly when he figured out the implications. Thus, he followed the request not to look and busied himself preparing the tracking spell, while he repeated to himself that the headband was just a fancy piece of cloth, and no one would use it for any other ends.
“Here!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed after a moment.
Harry turned around to find him standing up, more disheveled than before, and holding a white ribbon with embroidered clouds, similar to the one around Lan Sizhui’s forehead. Swallowing a sigh and, with all the stoicism he could muster, he reached out to grab that headband—only for Wei Wuxian to yank it back.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d have to touch it. It’s a sacred thing for the Lan Clan. Only a spouse or close family member can touch it.” He closed his eyes and turned up his nose. “And I’m not sure I’m ready to share Lan Zhan with a second wife.”
Harry gaped at that, unsure at first whether he should feel offended or relieved. Once his braincells engaged, he opted for the second. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian’s pursed lips broke into another loud bout of laughter.
“Hahahaha! Look at your face!”
In the name of professionalism, Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands. “It’s alright. I’m happily single,” he lied. “Plan B, then. Stay still and hold out your arms, please.” As he gave the instructions, Harry circled until he stood behind Wei Wuxian. “Hopefully, this will be less invasive than touching a sacred object. Just bear with me for a moment.”
Wei Wuxian tilted his head questioningly. However, his inquisitive nature allowed Harry to proceed, if only to find out what the wizard was on about. The wizard moved over to cover Wei Wuxian’s eyes with his hands. The necromancer’s skin was cool, thanks to the wind blowing around them in the cemetery, and smooth the way you’d expect from a movie star with access to the best skin care.
“Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?” Wei Wuxian asked.
“I have no idea what you mean. Anyway, imagine you’re in a lovely garden with a lovely pond and lovely flowers.”
“And lovely carps?” Wei Wuxian suggested.
Harry rolled his eyes. What a wonderful moment for him to realize he needed a thesaurus. “Yeah, that too. So many carps dancing in the water.”
As Harry went on with the guided meditation, Mouse, having understood the cue, approached to sniff the headband from a respectful distance. It didn’t take him long to wag his tail to indicate he got the magical scent—and probably even the physical one—and he was ready to go.
Harry nodded in acknowledgement and to convey how much of a good boy the dog continued to be.
“First part done,” he announced out loud. “The next bit is going to be a bit tricky.”
“I can cover my eyes with the headband,” Wei Wuxian offered. “And pretend we’re following a qilin or something.”
His laughter this time was a bit more awkward, as if bracing himself to do something he definitely didn’t want to. Which was exactly what he was doing—and all for love. Given the way he had reacted when he first met Mouse, Harry could only commend him. He also thanked him silently for catching on the strategy.
“Yeah, that works.” He addressed Mouse again. “Go fetch Bob while we work out the logistics here.”
Mouse nodded and carried on with his instructions. Once he was out of sight, Harry let go of Wei Wuxian.
“Are you ready?”
Wei Wuxian nodded once, his hands tightening around the headband, serious determination shining in his eyes. “I am.” Then, he raised it to his eyes and began tying it up. “By the way, I’m going to need help walking. Is it okay if I borrow your stick?”
“It’s a wizard’s staff and—”
And there was a dignity to it. Unfortunately, Harry didn’t get that far because Wei Wuxian went straight for the killing blow.
“Fine. Staff. Whatever. The important thing here being that you wouldn’t want me to fall down and hurt myself, would you? What will you tell Sizhui when I show up covered in scratches because a treacherous stone crossed my path?”
A great argument that spoke directly to Harry’s wallet. The list of groceries he had made in his mind paraded in front of his eyes as he handed over the staff, which Wei Wuxian received with one of his wide grins.
“Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.” Harry felt like he had given up to a kid. There was a certain charm in Wei Wuxian that made it impossible to remain annoyed at him for long. He was obviously smart, but he also seemed the kind of person who took pains to be impossible to figure out. Was he being obtuse on purpose? Or did he not realize—or care—how others perceived him? Harry forced both the little voice claiming hypocrisy and the one calling projection to the back of his mind where they belonged and carried on with his mission. “Anyway, our qilin is here,” he added as he picked up Bob from Mouse’s mouth and quickly wiped him clean with a napkin that had come with the paper bag. “Let’s go.”
“See how I did end up covered in drool?” Bob uttered.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Harry replied.
“You’d better. There's a book series that really caught my eye.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Harry said as he began to walk.
“Not being closely acquainted with many spirits of intellect, I barely dare to bring this up,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding like a serious expert. “But, when I looked, you didn’t have any eyes to be caught anywhere.”
“It’s metaphorical and you know it,” Bob said in response to Wei Wuxian’s snickering.
Harry shook his head, acknowledging himself as the adult in the group, and followed Mouse to wherever the trail took them.
In the end, Wei Wuxian didn’t seem to be having too much trouble following along despite being unable to see. Harry’s gentle nudges were enough to show him where to turn, and the stick indicated him the end and the start of every sidewalk.
As they walked, Wei Wuxian regaled the group with detailed stories of night hunts, events where cultivators went out to wipe out as many of the things that bumped into the night as they could. They had made it into a competition, which prompted Harry to wonder what would happen if the White Council did something similar—and how many treaties they’d be breaking in the process.
“You should go sometime.”
“I just might. It sounds fun,” Harry replied.
“You can even bring your—qilin. My nephew has one. They can have fun together.”
Together and away from you, Harry thought but didn’t say. He also thought and didn’t say that, at this point in time, it was very likely that neither his nephew nor his dog were alive or in conditions to hunt anything. Better focus on the present matters and handle one crisis at a time.
Despite Harry’s paranoia—even if being paranoid didn’t mean an invisible demon wasn’t about to eat your face—they advanced without problem until Mouse sat down at the entrance of a neighborhood Harry knew quite well.
“Huh.”
“What do you mean huh?” Wei Wuxian asked, pulling the headband up a little bit, only enough to look at Harry.
“I’ve had a few Paranet reunions a couple of houses ahead—a group of people I mentor in magic from time to time.”
“So you’re a teacher!”
“I dabble. But that’s not important now.”
“You’re right.” Wei Wuxian covered his eyes again before he got a glimpse of Mouse. “Lan Zhan is in that house, then?”
“One second,” Harry replied while he stared at Mouse. Acknowledging the silent command, the dog walked the remaining steps and sat right at the corner where the fence began, pointing at it with his paw. Harry sighed. “Yep. That seems to be the case.”
“Great! Lan Zhan!”
Harry extended an arm in front of Wei Wuxian’s chest, stopping him from advancing more than one step. “Wait! We can’t simply walk into Mordor.”
“Mordor? Is that the name of your student’s house?”
Harry scoffed. “He wished. But never mind. What I mean is that we should be cautious. The last few times Art and I met didn’t end well. He kept pestering for ‘theoretical knowledge’ on how to do certain unsavory things, so I gave him a time out. He’s supposed to be due for a revision of his case to see if he can rejoin the Paranet in a couple of weeks.”
“What kind of unsavory things?”
Harry gave a long look at Wei Wuxian as he pondered the timing of his life before answering, “Raising the dead.”