by Jim Butcher
The girl blinked at me. “You know her?”
“Of her,” I said. “She’s a changeling, isn’t she?”
The girl nodded. “Winter, but she hasn’t chosen to go over to them. She was under Ronald’s protection, and she models for us sometimes.” She gestured vaguely toward the young man who was painting intently. “See, there are a few other pieces she modeled for around here.”
I looked around the garden and picked out a pair of statues among all the rest. Both were nudes of white marble. One of them depicted the girl in a tiptoe stretch, arms over her head, body arched prettily. The other showed her kneeling, looking at something cupped in her hands, her expression one of quiet sadness. “Seems like she’s well liked.”
The girl nodded. “She’s very gentle, very sweet.”
“Very missing,” I said.
She frowned. “Missing?”
“Yeah. Her roommate asked me to see if I could find her. Have you seen her in the past couple of days?”
“She hasn’t been here to model, and I’ve never seen her anywhere but here. I’m sorry.”
“Worth a shot,” I said.
“Why are you looking for her?”
“I told you. Her roommate asked for my help. I gave it.” Which was mostly true. Technically, I suppose, I’d sold it. I got the uneasy feeling that I might start feeling too guilty over the cash Meryl had given me to spend it. “I’m a tad busy this week, but I’ll do what I can.”
The girl’s brow furrowed as she worked at the bust. “You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met who was working for Winter. Mab usually likes her agents . . . colder, I think. Hungrier. More cruel.”
I shrugged. “She wanted someone to find a killer. I’ve had some experience.”
She nodded. “Still, you seem like a decent enough person. It makes me sad to think that you’ve gotten entangled in Winter’s snares.”
I stopped chewing and looked up at her, hard. “Oh, Hell’s bells.”
She looked at me and lifted an eyebrow. “Hmm?”
I put the sandwich down and said, “You’re her. You’re the Summer Lady.”
The shadow of a smile touched the girl’s lips, and she bowed her head toward me. Her blond hair cleared out to Sidhe white, her fingers and limbs suddenly seemed slightly longer, and her features became almost identical to Maeve’s, eyes vertically slitted and almost violently green. She still wore the coveralls and blue T-shirt, and was still liberally covered in flecks of clay, though. They stood out in sharp contrast to her fair skin and pale hair.
“Call me Aurora,” she said. “It’s a little easier for everyone.”
“Uh, right,” I said. I finished the bite I was on and said, “So are you going to stop playing games with me and help Elaine, Aurora?”
She glanced over at Elaine, lying on the ground, and her expression grew troubled. “That depends.”
My teeth clenched, and I said in a falsely pleasant voice, “On what?”
She turned her calm, inhuman eyes to me. “On you.”
“Don’t go getting specific on me, now,” I said. “I wouldn’t know how to handle it.”
“Do you think this is a joke, Mr. Dresden? A game?”
“I know damn well it isn’t a game.”
She shook her head. “And that is where you are wrong. It is a game, but unlike the ones you know. You aren’t allowed to know the rules to this game, and it was never intended to be fair. Do you know why Mab choseyou , wizard?”
I glared at her. “No.”
“Neither do I,” she said. “And that is my part of the game. Why choose you? It must be because she expects something of you that she would get from no one else. Perhaps bringing Ela here is what she expected.”
“What’s the difference?” I demanded. “Elaine is hurt. Your Emissary has been wounded in the line of duty. Don’t you think you should get her moving again?”
“But if that is what Winter expects, it could be used against me. I am the least Queen of Summer, but even so I must be cautious in the use of my power.”
I snorted. “Maeve sure as hell doesn’t think that way.”
“Of course not,” she said. “She’s Winter. She’s violent, vicious, merciless.”
“And your centaur is just the soul of gentleness and understanding.”
Aurora sighed and lowered her clay-crusted fingers. “I hope you will forgive Korrick’s temper. He is usually a merrier sort. Everyone’s been edgy because of matters here.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Just so we’re clear, that was really mortal food, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have no desire to threaten your freedom, Mister Dresden, or to bind you in any way.”
“Good.” I knew she couldn’t lie to me, so I took another bite of the sandwich and some more chips. “Look, I’m not here to try to undermine your power or sabotage Summer, Aurora. I just want you to help Elaine.”
“I know,” she said. “I believe you. But I don’t trust you.”
“What reason do you have not to trust me?”
“I’ve watched you,” she responded. “You’re a mercenary. You work for hire.”
“Yeah. To pay the bills and—”
She lifted a hand. “You’ve made bargains with demons.”
“Nickel-and-dime stuff, nothing huge or—”
“You traded yourself to the Leanansidhe for power.”
“When I was younger, and a hell of a lot stupider, and in trouble—”
Her inhuman eyes met mine, penetrating. “You’vekilled .”
I looked away from her. There wasn’t much to say to that. My stomach turned, and I pushed the food a bit away from me.
Aurora nodded, slowly. “From the beginning, you have been meant to be a destroyer. A killer. Do you know the original purpose of a godparent, Mr. Dresden?”
“Yeah,” I said. I felt tired. “A godparent was chosen to ensure that a child had religious and moral guidance and teaching.”
“Indeed,” she said. “And your godmother, your teacher and guide, is the most vicious creature of Mab’s Court, more than Maeve’s equal, second in strength only to Mab herself.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Teacher? Guide? Is that what you think Lea is to me?”
“Isn’t she?”
“Lea barely noticed me except when she thought she could get something from me,” I spat. “The rest of the time she couldn’t care less. The only thing she taught me was that if I didn’t want to get walked on I had to be smarter than her, stronger than her, and willing to do something about it.”
Aurora turned her lovely face fully toward me and regarded me with deep, quiet eyes. “Yes.” Unease gnawed at my belly as she continued. “The strong conquer and the weak are conquered. That is Winter. That is what you have learned.” She leaned closer and said, quietly emphatic, “That is what makes you dangerous. Do you see?”
I stood up and walked a few paces away. Aurora didn’t say anything. I heard drips of water as she washed her hands in the little bowl.
“If you aren’t going to help Elaine, tell me. I’ll take her to the hospital.”
“Do you think I should help her?”
“I don’t give a damn if you do or not,” I said. “But one way or another I’m going to make sure she’s taken care of. Make up your mind.”
“I already have. What remains is for you to make up yours.”
I took a wary breath before asking, “Meaning?”
“Of the two people who entered this garden, Mister Dresden, Elaine is not the most grievously wounded. You are.”
“Like hell. I’ve just got some cuts and bruises.”
She rose and walked toward me. “Those aren’t the wounds I mean.” She reached out and laid a slender hand over my heart. Her skin was warm, even through my shirt, and the simple fact of her touch brought me a small but noticeable sense of comfort. Susan had been gone for months, and with the exception of the occasional assault, no one had actually touched me.
&nb
sp; She looked up at me and nodded. “You see. You’ve been badly wounded, Mister Dresden, and you have found neither rest nor respite from your pains.”
“I’ll live.”
“True,” she said. “But this is where it always begins. Monsters are born of pain and grief and loss and anger. Your heart is full of them.”
I shrugged. “And?”
“And it makes you vulnerable. Vulnerable to Mab’s influence, to temptations that would normally be unthinkable.”
“I’m handling temptation pretty damned well, thank you.”
“But for how long? You need toheal , wizard. Let me help you.”
I frowned at her, and at her hand. “How?”
Aurora gave me a small, sad smile. “I’ll show you. Here.”
Her palm pressed a bit closer to me, and somewhere inside me a dam broke open. Emotions welled up like a riotous rainbow. Scarlet rage, indigo fear, pale blue sadness, aching yellow loneliness, putrid green guilt. The tide flooded through me, coursed over me like a bolt of lightning, searing and painful and beautiful all at once.
And after the tide receded, a deep, quiet stillness followed. A sensation of warmth suffused me, gently easing away my aches and bruises. It spread over my skin, like sunlight on a lazy afternoon outside, and with the warmth my cares began to evaporate. My fear vanished, and I began to relax muscles I hadn’t realized were stretched tight as the warmth spread. I floated in warmth for a time, the release from pain an ecstasy in itself.
When I came back to my senses, I was lying on my back on the grass, staring up at leaves and silver-starred sky. My head lay in Aurora’s lap. She knelt behind me, and her hands rested lightly, warm and soft, along the sides of my face. The pain began to return to my body, thoughts, and heart, like some quiet and odious tide washing in garbage from a polluted sea. I heard myself make a small sound of protest.
Aurora looked down at me, her eyes concerned. “Worse even than I suspected. You didn’t even realize how much pain you were in, did you?”
My chest heaved and I let out a quiet sob. The warmth faded entirely, and the sheer weight of the difficulties I had to face pressed down on me, suffocating me.
Aurora said, “Please, let me help you. We’ll make it a bargain, Mr. Dresden. Desist. Relax your efforts to help Winter. Stay here for a time and let me grant you a measure of peace.”
Real tears formed, making my vision blur. I mopped at my face with my hands, struggling to think clearly. If I took the deal, it would probably mean my ass. Backing off from Mab’s offer would mean that I didn’t get a good outcome for the White Council, which meant that they would buy peace with the Red Court of Vampires for the low, low price of one Harry Dresden, slightly damaged.
“Forget it,” I said, my voice weak. “I’ve got a job to do.”
Aurora closed her eyes for a moment and nodded. “At least you are true to your word, Mister Dresden. Your honor is admirable. Even if it is misguided.”
I forced myself to sit up, away from Aurora. “Go on,” I said. “Help Elaine.”
“I will,” she assured me. “But she is in no danger for the moment, and it will take me some time. There is something I wish to say to you first.”
“Okay. Talk.”
“How much did Mab tell you about Ronald’s death?”
I shook my head. “That he was dead. That the mantle of power he wore went missing. That the killer had to be found.”
“Did she tell you why?”
I frowned. “Not exactly.”
Aurora nodded and folded her hands in her lap. “Summer readies to go to war against Winter.”
I frowned. “You mean it’s not just a theoretical possibility anymore. It’s real.”
“I know no other kind of war. The loss of the Summer Knight has forced Summer’s hand.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
Her pale brow knit into a soft frown. “The power of our Knights is considerable. It carries a sort of weight that only a free mortal will can possess. That power, that influence, is a critical element of the balance between our Courts.”
“Except now yours is gone.”
“Exactly.”
“Which makes Summer weaker.”
“Yes.”
I nodded. “Then why the hell are you planning an attack?”
“The seasons are changing,” Aurora said. “In two days’ time, Midsummer will be upon us. The height of Summer’s strength.”
She said nothing more, letting me do the math. “You think Winter has taken away your Knight,” I said. “And if you wait, you’re only going to grow more and more weak, while Winter gets stronger. Right?”
“Correct. If we are to have any chance of victory, we must strike while at the peak of our strength. It will be the only time when our Court might be near equal to Winter’s strength. Otherwise, the seasons will change, and at Midwinter Mab and her creatures will come for us. And theywill destroy us, and with us the balances of the mortal world.” She lifted her green eyes from her hands to my face. “Winter, Mister Dresden. Endless Winter. Unending and vicious cycles of predator and prey. Such a world would not be kind to mortals.”
I shook my head. “Why would Winter pull this now? I mean, if they had waited another couple of days, they could have held all the cards. Why leave you enough space to wriggle out?”
“I cannot even pretend to know the mind of Winter,” Aurora said. “But I know that they must not be allowed to destroy us. For your sake as well as ours.”
“Boy, everybody’s looking out for my best interests.”
“Wizard, please. Promise me that you will do what you can to stop them.”
“I’m finished making promises.” I stood up and started for the path that led back to the elevator and out, but part of me wanted to do nothing but return to the comfort Aurora had offered. I paused and squeezed my eyes shut, focusing my resolve. “But I will say this. I’m going to find the killer and straighten this out, and I’m going to do it before Midsummer.”
I didn’t bother to add, “Because I’m as good as dead if I don’t.”
No need to belabor the obvious.
Chapter Eighteen
I got the hell away from the Rothchild and found a pay phone. Murphy picked up on the first ring. “Dresden?”
“Yeah.”
“Finally. You all right?”
“I need to talk to you.”
There was a short pause, then her voice softened. “Where?”
I rubbed at my head with the heel of one hand, trying to nudge my brain into gear. My thoughts stumbled around sluggishly and in no particular order. “Dunno. Someplace public, bunch of people, quiet enough to talk.”
“In Chicago. At this time of night.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Murph said. “I guess I know a place.” She told me, we agreed to meet in twenty minutes, and hung up.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I reflected that odds were that not a lot of clandestine meetings involving mystical assassination, theft of arcane power, and the balance of power in the realms of the supernatural had taken place in a Wal-Mart Super Center. But then again, maybe they had. Hell, for all I knew, the Mole Men used the changing rooms as a place to discuss plans for world domination with the Psychic Jellyfish from Planet X and the Disembodied Brains-in-a-Jar from the Klaatuu Nebula. I know I wouldn’t have looked for them there.
After midnight the Wal-Mart wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t the usual deserted parking lot you’d expect after hours around Wrigleyville, either. The store was open all night, and there were plenty of people in a town like Chicago who would do their shopping late. I had to park about halfway down a row and walk through the cool of the evening before stepping into the refrigerator-cold of the enormous store, whose massive air conditioners had too much momentum to slow down for a few paltry hours of darkness.
A greeter nodded sleepily to me as I came in, and I passed up his offer of a shopping cart. Before I’d gotten all the way into the store
, Murphy fell into step beside me. She was wearing a Cubs jacket, jeans, and sneakers, and she had her blond hair tucked up underneath an undecorated black ball cap. She walked with her hands in her pockets, and her expression, one of belligerent annoyance, didn’t seem to fit on someone that short. Wordlessly, we walked past all the little hole-in-the-wall franchise businesses, closed and locked up behind their grills, and settled down at the generic cafe near the deli section of the grocery store.
Murphy chose a booth where she could watch the door, and I sat across from her, where I could watch her back. She picked up a couple of cups of coffee, bless her noble heart. I dumped sugar and creamer into mine until bits floated on the surface, stirred it up, and took a slow sip that nearly scalded my tongue.
“You don’t look so good,” Murphy said.
I nodded.
“You want to talk about it?”
To my own surprise, I did. I set the coffee down and said without preamble, “I’m furious, Murph. I can’t think straight, I’m so mad.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m screwed. That’s why. No matter what I do, I’m going to take it up the ass.”
Lines appeared between her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“It’s this job,” I said. “Investigating Reuel’s death. There’s a lot of resistance and I don’t know if I can beat it. And if I don’t beat it before tomorrow night, things are really going to go to hell.”
“The client isn’t being helpful?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Hell, for all I know the client is doing this to me just so I can get myself horribly killed.”
“You don’t trust them, then.”
“Not as far as I could kick her. And the people who are supposed to be working with me are driving me nuts.” I shook my head. “I feel like some guy in a magician’s box, just before he starts pushing all those swords through it. Only it’s not a trick, and the swords are real, and they’re going to start skewering me any second. The bad guys are doing their best to get me wiped out or screwed up. The good guys think I’m some kind of ticking psycho, just waiting to go off, and it’s like pulling teeth to try to get a straight answer out of any of them.”
