Storm Front: "And I saw Victor Sells, struck over and over again by stingers the size of ice picks, the wounds foaming with poison. The demon ignored the pincers and the stingers of the scorpions to begin tearing him apart. His face contorted in the final agony of rage and fear.

The strong survive, and the weak get eaten. I guess Victor had invested in the wrong kind of strength.

I didn't want to watch what was happening below me. The fires consuming the ceiling above were rather beautiful, actually, rolling waves of flame, cherry red, sunset orange. I was too weak to try to get out of this mess, and the entire thing had become far too annoying and painful to even consider anymore. I just watched the flames, and waited and noticed, oddly, that I was simply starving . And no wonder. I hadn't eaten a decent meal since … Friday? Friday. You notice odd things in those final moments, they say…"

It was Morgan's arrival that shook all thoughts of food from my weary mind. He emerged from the smoke on the stairs, rising like an angel of death from the mists, his silver sword drawn and gleaming menacingly. Almost casually, he whipped the blade behind him and, snicker-snack, one of the giant scorpions lay twitching in two pieces.

I gulped, I couldn't help it. The crazy Warden wanted me dead, he'd wanted to personally kill me for years, and this didn't look good. I didn't know where Victor Sells had gotten to, if he was alive or dead, and that left me as possibly the only wizard around, and a demon summoned, loose, and wreaking havoc.

Even I thought myself guilty, when presented with those facts.

"I've got you now, Dresden!" Morgan's eyes glinted eagerly with my impending doom, "You've gone too far – loosed a demon you couldn't control! Did you really think it was enough to stop me? I'll dispatch it as easy as I will you!" Morgan wasn't going to give me a clean execution, I realized as he stood above me crowing with triumph.

He was going to cut me in half as I hung helplessly from a pair of handcuffs from a banister. And here I thought wizards died respectably, in epic duels or some other great hoo-hah.

"Wait, Morgan! It wasn't me!" I didn't sound desperate at all, of course, and fully maintained my dignity as I repeated that, but he wasn't convinced by it, his glee at finally handing down my sentence – delayed since I was sixteen – impairing his judgment. Well, I guess I needed to find another way to do it, then.

I'd never studied much earth magic, under Justin DuMorne. It was generally a slow magic, ponderous almost, but had impressive effects if done correctly. Morgan was a master of it, actually, but I'd only learned maybe two evocations, and never had the chance to practice them well enough to do them without a focus.

However, my fear of the look on Morgan's face as he loosed the sword and brought it down gave me new strength and focus; my frantic will managed, somehow, to just barely move the latch holding the handcuff to my arm. I slipped quickly from their loosened grasp and fell down to the first story of the burning house, into the smoke.

The look on Morgan's face as I fell while he sliced a few locks of my hair, was priceless and is a memory I'll treasure as long as I live.

Landing heavily and awkwardly, I struggled back to my feet, wincing at my suddenly sore ankles, burning hip, protesting muscles, and woozy head; immediately, I noticed that the acrid smoke from the burning potions ingredients, including ammonia and other caustic chemicals, was burning my eyes and throat terribly. They watered and caused me to choke, respectively, so I was forced to fling myself towards where I thought I remembered there being a door, hoping I hadn't disoriented myself in the fall.

By the grace of God or whatever higher power was looking at me right then, I fumbled around for a knob and turned it as soon as my fingers touched the scalding metal, ignoring the hiss of my burning flesh. That's why they teach you better in elementary school, I guess, but I had no time to exercise proper caution around the fire – with so many things looking to kill me, it was the least of my worries.

I flung the door wide and gasped at the fresh air like a man dying of thirst would water, and promptly choked some more, falling to my knees and coughing. Walking was no longer an option, so I crawled across the deck on my hands and knees, willing myself to safety as I realized how futile it really was – everything I was fighting was in a lot better shape than me to begin with, and none as injured or exhausted.

But where could I go? Unbidden, as if put there by another, a thought entered my head. A thought so deprived and terrible that my own head couldn't possibly have thought of it.

'The Nevernever. Your Godmother could help you,' The crazy foreign thought whispered.

That was it. I'd officially gone crazy; a sane wizard would have never thought of that. Oh, it was true, alright – Lea, my faerie Godmother would love nothing more than to protect me from the big, bad, White Council. But eternal slavery just didn't sound all that fun to me, for some reason, so it really wasn't an option.

"Dresden! You'll not escape me this time!" Morgan howled from just the other side of the door.

On second thought, there was always the chance that I could outwit my faerie godmother as I'd done before, and get free. Eventually. Maybe.

In an instant, even that plan was taken from me, as I was leapt upon by a bulging bulbous demon. I fought the inhuman strength of the creature admirably, I thought, though the resistance only lasted a few seconds before he overcame me, straddling me like a lover as he pinned both my arms and opened his mouth, throat rhythmically pumping as he prepared to spit his deadly acid on me.

A movement of the ground beneath me, then, sent both of us flying – I barely noticed the impact, jarring though it must have been. I was barely able to see Morgan – the one responsible for the impressive earth magic that had just saved my life – stomp over to me, ignoring the demon. I had but moments before that sword ended my life, I knew.

And I knew I had no other choice, no other thoughts that could save my life save one so reprehensible, so unthinkable, that it was no choice at all.

"Aparturum," I said, despising myself as I forced my will out through my finger, opening a small hole through the Nevernever just large enough to crawl through with a wave of my hand.

I got lucky, because the demon on the other side of Morgan decided it would be a good time to play 'tackle the Warden', so he was too distracted to immediately follow me as I crawled into another world.

It was beautiful, of course, it always was, in an ethereal way that seemed cartoonish, almost, fake in some way. It was too gregarious, too perfect, to actually exist. The trees were bare here, only branches and twigs, and the grass covered in frost that crunched as I crawled forward, my exhaustion catching up with me as I found this temporary safe-haven.

I'd emerged into the realm of Winter, then, but somewhere near the border – thankfully, it wasn't quite the blazing snowstorm that the heart of Winter's territory always was. Sighing as I did so, I loudly called, "Leanansidhe!"

"Hello, my son," Lea responded from behind me, after only a few seconds delay. "I've been waiting for you for such a long time," she said gently and softly.

I nearly cried out at the sight of her, so beautiful and such a comforting sight. Her red hair blossomed down to her hips, and her pale complexion, though odd with vertical slit eyes, smiled down at me as she reached where I lay and cradled my head in her lap. I fought against the glamour with all that I could, but I was too tired, and she was exactly what I'd wanted, what I'd needed, to help me.

"You poor thing, all beat up and defenseless," she began gently, stroking my hair as I always imagined my mother would have, had she not died, "you called for me once again?"

"I…" It was feeble of me, but I stuttered, my brain not working my mouth quite as eloquently as I was used to, "I need…help."

"Yes, you certainly do, Harry. It is a good thing that I've had plans for you, I suppose, because you won't do me any good in a condition like this." She stopped stroking my head after a moment, and I realized that the cloudiness, the murkiness, had drifted away from my head, and that I could think once more. A few more gentle caresses, including on my hip, which sort of burped as the bullet popped out and dropped to the ground – the cold iron burning the frozen grass as it hit the ground – and I was able to stand and function as well as if I'd gone to a hospital and received a month of rehabilitation.

I somehow kept the scowl off my face when I met her expectant stare and little smirk with my own expressionless face.

"Thank you, Godmother, I –"

"I will not extract payment from you for that act of kindness, my child. After all, a godmother could do no less for her godson." With diplomacy I didn't know I had, I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to bring up all the other help she could have given me over the years.

"Now, I believe that you were about to make good on a payment of yours? Are you ready to keep your word, given years ago, and be my vassal, Wizard Dresden?" Lea questioned, her eyes alight with eagerness so frightfully similar to the way Morgan's had been, only moments ago, when he realized he could finally kill me.

Before a witty retort could even form in my mind, an overwhelming voice, thick, sultry, and powerful, resounded in laughter all around us. The air beside Lea swirled in patterns of purples and blues, and there beside my godmother stood another Sidhe.

Her hair, twirled in locks of wintry hues – purples, blues, and whites entwined frostily – settled moments after she appeared, a match for the beauty of the Leanansidhe, as few were, and her pale skin, tinted blue, along with darker eyelashes and lips, flashed along with her white eyes as she regarded me. Lips still twisted upward in a smirk, she turned slightly to address Lea while still staring at me, perhaps sizing me up.

"Oh Leanansidhe, my dear. I'm sure you don't intend to take such as vassal as this," she regarded me casually with a wave of her hand, "all for your own. My, but that would be so very arrogant, especially when you know of the situation I face. Indeed, some would think you were putting on airs." The new Sidhe said casually, the imminent threat downplayed by her demeanor.

Lea, a being who'd demonstrated her absolute power over me and prodigious skill just moments before by healing me almost completely, backed down from this stranger. I knew this wasn't a good sign. Like the brake lights of a semi-truck ten feet in front of your face when you're riding a motorcycle aren't a good sign.

"Of course not, my Queen, it would not be proper." Lea said, nearly gulping with proper obsequium. Queen? As in Faerie Queen? And since this was Winter's domain, Queen Mab?

Hoo-boy, this really wasn't good.

"My greetings, Queen Mab. Your beauty and power are no doubt downplayed by any language's inadequacy to describe them properly." Hey, since my life now depended on her good mood, no reason to set her off, right?

Give me a break, I'd been taught proper manners by a sixteen year old witch who was my only friend, and who threatened on more than one occasion to withhold sex if I didn't suitably impress her.

Mab, too, seemed somewhat flattered by me, since she quirked an eyebrow as she extended a hand, which I promptly took and kissed the back of. Any questions I may have had about her power ended there; when my lips touched her hand, my breath froze in my lungs and my lips felt the chill of Winter. With some trouble, I removed them and slowly regained feeling and the ability to breathe as I dropped Mab's hand.

"Indeed, Wizard Dresden. What deal have you to make with the Queen of Air and Darkness?" Mab asked, quickly cutting to the point.

Dealing with Faeries is a phenomenally bad idea, even in a small capacity. Making a deal like I was about to was just about condemning my soul to somehow winding up in the clutches of one of the two Sidhe I faced. A little part of my mind said that I was smarter than this, but the rest of it asserted that it was my only chance to stay alive if I was to avoid being hunted by the White Council and executed.

"I am, as of a few moments ago, hunted by the White Council, because they falsely believe that I violated the Doom of Damocles that they placed me under. Should they catch me, I will be summarily and quickly executed." I began; neither faerie looked surprised by this – did the creatures of the Nevernever just stare at me all day? "I don't wish to die, obviously, but they have the means to track me that my own magic cannot protect me from. I desire for you to use your own power to prevent their magic from finding me."

"I see," Mab began, each syllable pronounced slowly, "So you did not come here to make good your deal with the Leanansidhe, then?"

According to the Old Rules of etiquette, which every supernatural being followed, I couldn't lie. Sidhe were masters of manipulation and partial truths, of course – and I myself was none-too-shabby at it, in my own estimation, but with such a direct question, I couldn't avoid it. If I lied to them now, then they might determine my word to be of little value and kill me for wasting their time or any myriad of other reasons.

"No, I did not." I finally said. Mab seemed to grow thoughtful at this.

"Then you admit that your previous bargain goes unpaid, Wizard, and that already you owe a debt to Winter?" Mab questioned leadingly. She could have a future in legal proceedings, I thought wryly as I tried not to squirm like the weasel I was.

"I believe my debt is to the Leanansidhe alone, not all of Winter, Queen Mab." I said for clarification; Lea looked to Mab, too.

"She will be compensated for the debt, but you are mine, now, Wizard. However…the terms have changed, I think." She paused once more, thinking, then continued, "I will agree to your request – the Wizards will not find you by magic – but I require payment. You will live here, in Winter's demesne, as one of my subjects for five of your years. After that, you can begin working off your remaining debt to Winter."

"One year, and you have a deal, Mab." I said, bartering down as I knew faeries liked to do. They were predictable bargainers, though; I'd been calling minor faeries for years, and they did it just like their Queen – start off too high, then acquiesce to a reasonable counteroffer.

"Agreed, Wizard. For one of your years, you shall serve me as a Warrior of Winter. Lea, you will show him around." Mab smiled maliciously and disappeared in a great swirl of winter wind, leaving me alone with Lea. My godmother, far from looking pleased, had an odd expression on her face; on a person, which I knew well she was not, I would have thought she was showing some concern.

"I am not certain that was wise, child." She said simply. I didn't respond, but walked next to and slightly behind her as we tromped through increasingly colder territory towards an enormous icicle jutting from the ground.

***

"And through here are the rooms of the malks – they are quite vicious even to other Winterfae, and you are significantly more fragile than most here, so I'd recommend staying away from them." Lea said as she pointed to what was probably a giant version of Mister's litterbox.

I always knew my cat was intelligent – he certainly thought himself even more intelligent than me – but maybe he had some malk blood in him. It was worth investigating, anyway.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you folks don't really die very permanently here unless someone hits you with cold iron. You told me before. Five times since we started the tour, I believe." I said, rolling my eyes. Besides, it wasn't like I'd never fought fae before. I'd tromped with trolls once or twice.

"I am merely attempting to impress upon you the danger you placed yourself in. It is not my fault you made a foolish pact with the Winter Queen. Do you care to wager your firstborn to the Winter Lady, as well? I am sure she'd give you quite the bargain for it!" Lea said, scowling at me as I rolled my eyes ignoring her.

The crash course in Faerie-world was taking far too long, in my own estimation, and was far too boring. Yada yada, Arctis Tor housed the elite Winterfae. Blah blah, Mab lived at the top, everyone else below – except the Winter Lady who lived elsewhere. Oh yeah, there were two Queens of Winter, not just Mab like I always thought. Learn something new every day, I guess.

"…And your room will also be on this level," she said, as we ascended the stairs once more.

"Wait, what?" I said dumbly; Lea somehow demonstrated patience – not hard for an immortal, I suppose – and repeated herself.

"I said," she stated once more, "That Mab's favorite 'playthings' are all housed on this second level, just below her own. The Winter Knight keeps a residence here, as do I. Your own new room is right next to my own, in fact."

"Convenient for all those late-night 'mothering' sessions, eh? Hope I don't have an Oedipus Complex." She turned on me, then, a sultry expression on her face as I realized that her green gown was nearly transparent. My eyes flicked downward of their own volition as I admired her body and she purred, "That is not such an impossibility, my godson."

I shook my head violently – the one housing my brain – to clear the effects of the faerie glamour from it. I was breathing heavily, panting almost, from her effects, but forced myself free from her control and narrowed my eyes at her.

I was really going to need to work on my resistance to the desires of faeries if I was going to stay for a whole year.

"Note to godmother: that ain't happening. Second note: I really hate faerie glamours. Unless you'd like to kiss a piece of steel, keep them to yourself." Even at the mention of steel, Lea kept a smirk on her face. Damn her, but I think she knew that when I threatened faeries with steel, it meant I was scared.

And I'd never been more scared of faeries than right now.

Trolls were big and mean, sure, and I'd met quite a few other nasties from the Nevernever, but Queen Mab scared me more than I'd ever been scared. With good reason, I think, because she was probably more powerful than the entire White Council put together. At least, that wasn't too far from her level of power.

And I'd made a rather hasty and debatably foolish bargain with her.

I put that from my mind as I entered the room Lea told me was my own. It was furnished comfortably, with a large bed, probably queen-sized, in one corner and a bookshelf, armoire, and tall dresser completing the décor. A large rug took up most of the floor; I was thankful for this, because I didn't feel like walking on ice or whatever the floor was actually made from.

Inside the dresser and armoire, I was surprised to find an entire new wardrobe, most of which was faerie-style clothing I would rather die than put on. Shirts that looked vaguely like spider web silk, many that looked like gossamer wing sewn together, and tight leather pants more suited to a rock star than a wiry Wizard.

Those, I immediately tossed out the window of my bedroom. Debt or not, there are some things you just don't do. Wearing tight leather pants was one of mine.

The armoire hosted a slightly better selection, in my eyes; there were several robes, which I'd grown up wearing from time to time, as they were the formal wear at White Council meetings, along with bulky coats that might make the sub-zero temperatures I was currently freezing in more bearable.

I stripped out of my burned and tattered attire – even my sturdy canvas duster had taken quite the beating, I noticed mournfully, and put on some of the less ridiculous of the choices offered, reluctantly finding them to be a gossamer shirt and pants more opaque than some alternatives.

To my shock, the cold seemed entirely bearable – my teeth even stopped chattering once I pulled the shirt over my head. It might be thin as hell, but this gossamer thing kept in heat like I'd never seen or heard of; I suspiciously eyed the thick coats, and wondered just where I'd need to go to warrant their protection, if a simple shirt was this incredible.

I didn't know just where to go, didn't have any instructions, and certainly didn't have any plans, so I just walked out of my room and decided to explore my new prison a bit.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?" Golly, Winter is such a friendly place. It was a man, or at least the best damn faerie glamour impersonating a man that I'd ever seen. He was rough looking, a medium build, slightly older than me, with a dark stubble around his otherwise bald head. He was just under six foot in height, but stood with an confident, strong pose, a pose that signified a bit of arrogance on his part.

For a human to have that kind of arrogance in the midst of powerful faeries was rather peculiar. Together with his casual mortal attire – a black tee and jeans – despite the chilling cold and a white brand of a snowflake on his throat, I cleverly deduced that this was no mere mortal. Quite possibly, he could kick my ass.

"Somebody ordered a pizza?" I asked with a smile, "That you?" Apparently he didn't find me very funny, because with impressive speed and strength, he slammed me up against a wall, hard. Then he seemed to sniff suspiciously.

"You have the smell of Winter on you. What are you doing near my room?" He growled menacingly.

If there was one thing I didn't take well, it was threats and displays of power. I may have slung around quite a bit of magic today, but Lea's healing had done me good, and I focused my will tightly without words as I threw my will at him.

It wasn't very effective, as far as magic goes, but I was without a focus and without even the help of words or any time to aid the spell. But it was enough, and he was tossed back a few steps like a club bouncer shoved him. Don't mess with a Wizard.

"I'm one of Mab's new 'playthings'. Harry Dresden, Wizard." I said jovially, a stark contrast to his own demeanor. I'd stuck my hand out in a friendly manner, too. He eyed both me and my hand rather carefully before shaking it.

"Lloyd Slate. I'm the Winter Knight." He probably expected that to mean something to me, but my relations with the High Sidhe being so limited, it didn't. Where was Bob when I needed him? I made a mental note to take a little jaunt to my apartment and gather the skull when I next had a free moment.

"Ahh…I think Lea mentioned something about a Winter Knight being housed on this floor." I said casually. "Anyway, I'm off to explore this place a bit. I guess I'll see you around." I walked away, then, my magical senses extending cautiously to make sure he didn't take a cheap shot at my back.

I'd gotten to the troll's hangout on one of the lower floors when I noticed someone walking beside me. She'd appeared without a sound or any other indication, and could have been beside me for ten minutes or ten seconds; I never would have known. It was Mab, of course.

"How are you finding my hospitality, Wizard?" She asked, a smirk on her face. Didn't Queens have to go…be royal or something? Surely they had better things to do than pester professional Wizards with questions that would inevitably end badly for said wizards..

"Everything is fine, Queen Mab. The shirts and pants are surprisingly warm, even though they look like something that should have died in the '80's." Mab smiled more broadly.

"Your impertinence is one of my favorite things about you, Harry Dresden. So many of my subjects have been tortured and killed for showing me that kind of disrespect, and yet you persist. I think it will be…delightfully frustrating, having you around." Her tone never changed when switched from "favorite things" to "torture and killing". Both were said with a pleasant, everyday kind of fond tone. It unnerved me more than a bit.

"Yeah, 'frustrating' is how people usually start off describing me. Then they move on to other new and exciting words." I said, turning to humor to hide my nervousness.

"I am certain you are wondering how you will serve me for this year." Mab replied, ignoring my attempt at comedy.

"Hey, if you want me to sit in my room and twiddle my thumbs, you can feel free to keep silent – no skin off my back." I was once again ignored as she continued.

"To begin with, you will perform odd jobs for me and my lesser servants, commensurate with your skill. Specifically, you will open portals to help them travel faster. Also, you will aid me here with punishments." My stomach tightened involuntarily at the predatory smile she adopted when she said this.

"Punishments? Surely you, or someone else, is much better suited –" I started warily. She interrupted immediately, with a tone that brokered no argument.

"And yet I chose you. Remember that you are here at my will, Wizard Dresden. I have made you untraceable, and denied entrance to my realm to all of the mortal wizards; you are safer from the White Council here than anywhere else you could possibly go. My end of the bargain is more than kept; I expect to receive little quibbling over the trivialities of payment from you." Safer from the White Council, perhaps – especially if what she said about barring entrance to them was true, and I didn't doubt it was – but lots of things could kill me.

"Your payment, for the time being," she continued, "is to administer punishments to faeries who disappointed me. And you'll be doing it in an arena, for the enjoyment of all. I'm sure the Leanansidhe can show you the way, if you have trouble finding it. Oh, and you must administer your first punishment soon, so I'd make my way down there, lest you forfeit the competition and your life." Mab smiled as she disappeared in a gust of chilling wind, leaving me alone to contemplate what she'd said.

An arena. I was to be a gladiator for the Winter Court.

Hell's bells.