A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has enjoyed and commented on my previous stories. I wouldn't keep writing them if you didn't like them!

I'll be the first to admit this chapter is slower than my previous work... but it's building to some good stuff along the way. Please enjoy!

Broken Spirit

"So," the skull said, "was she hot?"

I looked at the skull. It housed the spirit of intellect I had named Bob years ago. Bob was possibly the most knowledgeable being I had ever come across, mortal or not. He was also sex-obsessed. "Bob," I said, leaning back against my work table, "I just explained that I travelled through time, uncovered the one behind the Black Council, and escaped from a memory-eating vampire, and your only question is whether she was hot or not?"

The flickering little orange lights in his eye sockets looked left, then right, then back at me. I don't know how a skull with no muscles or skin can look confused, but he managed it. "Um… yes?"

I rubbed my eyes. "Fine. For the record, she looked a lot like Ancient Mai."

"Ah, the Senior Council member who hates you."

"Yeah, she's one of them."

Bob perked up. "She does have a certain appeal, Boss."

"I'm sure." I walked around my work table. The sub-basement of my apartment is cramped and chilly, and mostly full of table. The table was pretty big - I had to disassemble it, carry it down piece by piece, and rebuild it down there. Shelving and other tables filled most of the rest of the space, and it was cluttered with so much random crap I couldn't list it all if I tried.

I found a stool on the other side of the main table, which was currently half-occupied with a giant pewter model of downtown Chicago, and took a seat. "What about the other stuff I told you? What about Titania?"

"Seems pretty clear to me. You should become an astronaut."

"I'm sorry?"

"For many things, I'm sure. Point is, you should get off Earth soon. Knowing a Faerie Queen is trying to kill you is tantamount to being dead already."

"Unless a friendly wizard offers you protection?" I smiled innocently at him.

Bob laughed; it was nervous, and a three dollar bill was more genuine. "Right. You said it, Harry." Bob had done something to anger the Winter Queen, Mab, a long time ago. He'd never told me what, and I hadn't ordered him to tell me. Yet.

"Maybe I could just kill her," I mused out loud.

Bob took on his lecturer's voice. "One does not 'just kill' a Faerie Queen."

"I've done it before."

"Technically, you killed the Summer Lady, the Queen to Be, not the Summer Queen Who Is. Not nearly so powerful. Plus, you had a lot of help. And she was totally bonkers."

"True, I did have that in my favour. But what if Titania is also crazy?"

"You killed her daughter. Crazy or not, she'd hate you. And if she saw you coming, I doubt you'd get close enough to do anything."

"Alright, fine. Let's proceed under the assumption that she's sane. Why? Why would she want to destroy the White Council?"

"The White Council is the only organization standing between you mortals and all supernatural beings."

"So, with it gone, she's free to do whatever she wants to on Earth."

"Her or her allies, like the vampires. Except that doing so would throw the whole Summer/Winter balance out of whack."

"Right, which brings us back to her possibly being crazy." My phone rang before Bob could respond. "Keep thinking about it," I said, and headed up the ladder. "This might be good news about Molly."

With a whispered word, all the candles in my lab extinguished. I came up into my apartment proper and grabbed the old rotary phone on the fourth ring. "Dresden."

"Warden Dresden," the voice said, with a burst of static.

"Captain Luccio," I said, with just a hint of playfulness. Ah, the joys of your boss also being your ex-girlfriend.

She dropped the formality quickly. "How are you, Harry?"

"Alive. I know there's been some doubt, recently, but Carlos was here yesterday. It's really me."

"I know. I believe you. After all, who would want to pretend to be you?"

"That hurts, Sta - Captain." I'd almost called her Stacey. She'd hated it when we were dating. But I could get away with it, then.

There was a short, awkward pause from her end. Then, again with static, she continued, "I'm afraid I don't have good news for you, Harry."

I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed, silently. "Please tell me you're kidding, Ana."

"I'm sorry, Harry. This is why I don't agree with apprentices being on probation. The rule is old, archaic. But if she fails the exams, it will be assumed she'll never learn control of her magic and be summarily executed as a danger."

"But she's only being forced to take them because everyone thought I was dead! I've been officially alive again for two days!" The static increased with my blood pressure. After a moment, it died down again.

"I know, Harry, but the circumstances are unusual. We haven't had an apprentice on probation whose master died since the American Civil War. And having the master suddenly return is unprecedented. It was deferred to the Senior Council to be voted on, in camera."

"Who voted?"

"The Merlin, Ancient Mai, and Wizard Listens-to-Wind."

"Let me guess; Molly lost two-to-one."

She sighed. "Yes." The Merlin was a consummate politician, and always played the stronger side. Joseph Listens-to-Wind, a.k.a. Injun Joe, I could generally count as a friend. "I can offer you one point of comfort: She'll being sitting her exams with me."

"You're her examiner?"

"No. I'll just be one of three. Normally, I could have done it alone, but with her history, and recent events…" she trailed off. Molly had been put on probation for using some destructive, albeit well-intentioned mental manipulation. Ana had recently been the target of the same thing, albeit from another source. "At least she'll have one familiar face."

"Ow!"

"Harry?! Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I said. "I just punched the wall." I shook out my hand. "This is bullshit, Captain. And I hope that goes on the record."

"Duly noted. The examination will be on Halloween."

My birthday. Hell's bells, what a present. "So I've got a little under a month to whip the kid into shape?" Kid. Molly was somewhere in her early twenties. But I'd known her since she was a tween. She'd always be a kid.

"Yes. You have a month."

I let my anger control me. For a count of five. Then I sucked it up. Being angry wasn't going to help Molly. "Thanks for trying, Ana."

"Of course, Harry. Is she there?"

"She's been here for two weeks. And she's been seriously cramming since I got back. She needed a break, so she's walking Mouse."

There was a short silence. I found myself not quite ready to hang up. "So, ah… how goes the fight?"

"I'm answering the phones, Harry. You probably know as much as I do." There was no anger in her voice. Just resignation. In a way, it was worse to hear that.

"So, who's in charge? Carlos said he couldn't tell me anything, in case I turned out to be an evil construct, or something."

"Warden Steiger. He's from Johannesburg."

"Is he any good?"

"He's been placed in charge, Harry."

"Yeah, but is he any good?"

She sighed again. "He has my full confidence. He might not have been my first choice, but he would have made the short list."

"Good enough. Should I expect a call-up?"

"I don't know. And it's out of my hands. I'm still technically the Captain, but for all intents and purposes, that's just a title, now. My role was scaled back after the body-switching incident, but now… I no longer even make decisions alone."

There was that resigned sadness again. Hearing it hurt. Ana had been manipulated into a relationship with me, but I'd gone in with both eyes open. I still cared about her.

"I'm sorry, Ana."

"So am I."

"Thank you. For getting back to me so quickly."

"Of course. I should go."

"Right. Goodbye."

We hung up, and I sat down, rubbing my eyes again. I hadn't slept much in the last two days. Since pulling a Marty McFly, I'd been trying to get my life sorted out. Everyone, my friends and enemies, had thought me dead. Because I'd been gone for a few weeks. A bit of an over-reaction, I think.

On the other hand, there had been no way of tracking me, because I'd been stuck I the past. Then, coming home, my teacher and I had overshot our destination. I literally had not existed for more than three weeks. And of course, I couldn't tell anyone where I'd been, because time travel is expressly forbidden by the White Council.

The results had been unforeseen, to say the least. Three things had happened; first, Molly, as my apprentice, had been my responsibility. With me gone, she either had to step up as her own wizard, or die like me.

I believe in covering my ass. Hoping that I could iron out the situation, but knowing it wasn't likely, I got Molly started on intensive training while I was making phone calls.

She was going to be exhausted for the next few weeks. So was I.

The second strange consequence had been a sudden turn in the Council's war with the Vampire Courts. Of the four courts, the Black Court pretty much didn't exist anymore. The White Court was controlled by someone I had a working relationship with. The Red Court had been licking its wounds. And the Jade Court hadn't entered the war at all.

Then I vanished, and things changed. The Jade Court, it seemed, had stayed out because of little ol' me. They eat the memories of their victims, but they can't feed on me; I have a little angelic protection. Their lack of understanding of my immunity had kept them cautious. With me gone, they'd thrown in.

The third thing was a trio of trolls stalking through town, looking for me.

I picked the phone up again to talk to the other short blonde in my life. Sgt. Karrin Murphy answered the phone on the second ring. "Murphy."

"Hey, Murph. It's me."

She immediately started talking a little too loudly. She was being watched. "Yes, hello. Glad you called. I was hoping to talk to you."

"Lunch?"

"Sounds good. Maybe on neutral territory?" Murphy-speak for McAnally's Pub.

"I'll be there at twelve."

"Perfect." She hung up on me. Murphy trying not to attract notice was nothing new, and sadly, neither was her avoiding my name. The Special Investigations unit knew me, liked me, and brought me in whenever they could. But someone higher up didn't like any of those facts, and wouldn't let me in the door. I was persona non grata as far as the regular civil services were concerned.

My senses tingled a little; There was someone at my door, but not a hostile someone. I waited. After a moment, the door popped open, a little stiff but not as bad as it had once been, and my dog and apprentice came through it.

I'd once considered putting in a dog door for Mouse, but it would have ended up bigger than my own, and I just didn't want to go to the effort.

Mouse looked worried. I don't know how. He took one look at me, and turned back to Molly, as she closed the door. She turned around and took off her jacket, and to me she looked like hell. Her hair was purple, and her eyes had circles under them that almost matched. Under her jacket, her tank top was black and rumpled. Her skirt was on sideways, and for once, it wasn't a fashion statement. She took three tries to get her boots off.

"Heya, kid."

"Hey, Harry." She looked like she wanted to collapse. But she didn't. Tired or not, she was her parents' daughter. "Do we have any Pepsi?"

I raised an eyebrow.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. "You're right. Silly question." Her voice was weak. She moved to the kitchen and dug a pair of Cokes out of the old icebox. I gave her a half smile that she almost returned. We opened them together and drank. "It's bright outside."

"Too bright?"

"Just haven't seen the sun in two days."

"Yeah. Rough weekend," I said.

"Wait, it's Sunday, isn't it?" She finally showed some life, her eyes popping open. She looked at the clock on the mantle. "Oh, crap!" She guzzled and moved to the door.

"What? What did I miss?"

"It's Sunday morning, Harry!"

"So?"

"I'm going to mass with my family."

"You're… you still go to church?"

She paused while putting her shoes back on. "I might be a witch, but I'm still Catholic."

"No wonder you always look guilty." I glanced at the clock myself. "You're going to be late."

She grabbed the door. "My father would say, 'Better late than never.'"

"Yeah, but your mother would say, 'Why are you late?'"

"Well… true."

I sighed. "Ah, hell. I've almost forgotten what the sun looks like, too." She smiled at me, and it took some of the strain off her face. I grabbed my leather duster, and made sure the car keys were in a pocket, then we headed outside.

*****

I drove quickly, but not crazy-fast. The Sunday drivers weren't out in force. Besides, autumn had finally arrived, and the whole city was covered in trees of every shade on the warm side of the rainbow. I tried to enjoy the view. It also let me look somewhere other than Molly, who was straightening her skirt.

I drove with the window open a crack. The cool air kept us both awake.

The Carpenter's Church, St. Mary of the Angels, is easy to find. It takes up a whole city block and does it with style. An old, beautiful building, it also has a nice big parking lot. Though, I'll admit, I'd never tried to park there during mass. I inched up to the door, dodging the dawdling churchies.

Molly jumped out once I stopped, then poked her head back in. "You want to come in?"

Any time I came near a Carpenter at a church, they always invited me. Politely, never pushing, never begging. They always left the decision to me, and it's one of the reasons I respect them. "God and I have an understanding, Molly. I stay out of his way, he stays out of mine."

"If you say so. I only ask because my parents said they wanted to talk to you."

Oh, right. They needed to ask if I was going to let their daughter die. Call me superficial, but I think it's the sort of thing a friendship might ride on.

I waffled a moment, but before I could say anything, Molly looked up, behind me. Her face lit up. "Mama!"

Oh, boy. I turned around slowly. Molly jogged up to a stern-looking blonde woman who was leading a young boy by the hand. At seven years old, Harry Carpenter had his father's colouring and his mother's bearing. He was also tall for a 2nd grader. I pitied anyone who made fun of his name.

'Cause, you know. Harry's an easy name to make fun of.

Man, I have childhood issues.

Charity's face softened considerably when Molly hugged her. Barely an inch taller than her daughter, and barely half a foot shorter than I, Charity also had the build of a long distance runner. I'd seen her in action. Though we got along much better these days, I knew she could kick my ass if she wanted to.

"Molly, it feels like it's been forever. You look tired. Is he riding you too hard? Is he letting you sleep?"

I tried not to think sexy thoughts.

Failed.

"Of course he is. I'm riding myself. I mean… you know what I mean. I'm going to pass these tests, and it'll all be over. It's no different than Daniel cramming at college. Hey, Brat."

Little Harry grinned up at his big sister.

I admired the kid's chutzpah. Charity looked sceptical, but then, she usually did. I could see the worry on her face as she gazed at her daughter, but to her credit she said nothing, just nodded.

Then she looked at me. "Harry."

Oh boy. This is going to suck.

Harry, a voice in the back of my head said, you have been putting this off since you learned about the situation. You have to talk to her parents.

I was forced to admit the voice was right.

I got out of the Blue Beetle leaving my staff behind. Church folk and magic folk don't mesh well. "Charity. It's… good to see you."

"Uncle Harry!" Little Harry squealed. He threw himself into my left leg and I patted him on the head.

"Been a while, Kiddo." I reached down and lifted him up. He was a fair bit heavier than I remembered. "Where's everybody else?"

"Daniel's not coming back from school until Thanksgiving. Matthew is at a friend's birthday. Alicia and Amanda are already inside, holding seats. Hope is - "

"Right here!" The little girl's voice came from her father's shoulders. And they were broad shoulders.

Michael Carpenter was the best man I had ever known. A loving father, an excellent friend, and a fierce warrior. He was also a damn fine carpenter, if you can believe that.

He limped forward, favouring one leg while the other stiffly followed. Hope held her father's cane in one hand, and Michael's big hands held her gently at the shoulders. His smile was almost as wide as hers. "Harry!" he boomed. "Molly, I need a little help."

One sister reached up for the other. "Come on, Hobbit. Time to use your own big, hairy feet."

"My feet are not hairy! They're pretty!"

"Molly," I said, "could you?" I put my namesake down, and he offered his biggest sister his hand. I jerked my head at her parents.

"Sure," she said quietly, nodding.

Michael had reclaimed his cane, and now leaned against it, eyeing me as his children walked away. Charity, likewise, was staring at me, arms crossed.

I decided to jump right in. "Remember eight years ago? That fun-filled night we had with vampires and werewolves?"

He nodded. "You've just come due to talk about it."

"Well, it ties in with Molly's situation."

"What is her situation?" Charity asked, I like to think more harshly than she intended. "She won't tell us what the consequences are if she fails."

I hesitated. Charity and Michael were more than protective of their kids. They would fight the world for them… and on a good day, they'd win. Luckily, I didn't have to answer.

"There you are!" We all turned to see Father Frank Forthill, the senior priest of St. Mary's, standing at the door in full green-and-white regalia and his usual friendly smile. "I was beginning to wonder. Mr. Dresden, a pleasant surprise. Joining us today?"

Oh, jeez. Well, I'm a guy who doesn't like to ignore signs, and they were all pointing me inside. I glanced around, waiting to see if anyone else was going to save me from saying something, but Michael and Charity just looked at me. So, I nodded. "Uh, yeah, I guess I am." The voice at the back of my mind took a virtual deep breath.

"Wonderful," the old priest said. "Don't worry about the car; no one will tow it unless I ask them to." We followed him inside. He stopped in the vestibule, and waved us forward. "The girls are up near the front, he whispered."

I followed the Carpenters up the nave, to a pew just a couple rows back from the front, on the left side of the church. Though, I guess from God's perspective, we'd be at his right hand. Something told me the family always managed to sit close to this spot. When Alicia saw me, she grinned and waved. She somehow manoeuvred herself into standing next to me. I gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder, and she let out little sigh.

I had time enough to think I had to stop rescuing women who were illegally young, then mass began. I won't bore you with the details. There was a lot of standing, kneeling and singing, which as a favour to the Chicago Catholics, I did not join. After an hour, it was over, and the seven hundred or so people inside seemed to leave in high spirits.

As they left, I turned to Michael and Charity again. "We need to talk. In private."

Michael nodded and led us all towards the back of the church, and down a corridor. The corridor was familiar; I had soulgazed Molly here. I had seen her potential futures. I had seen how much power she had, and how much darkness was inside her. I'd worked for four years to steer her away from that.

There was a room a the back of St. Mary's that Michael and I had used several times when trying to recover from or hide from… things. We went there now.

Michael sat in one of the chairs, one leg jutting out stiffly. Hope climbed into his lap. Charity stood next to Molly, one hand absently on her shoulder. Alicia and Amanda pulled up to a table on boxes. I sat on another chair, looked at my hands and wondered where to begin.

If I may, Harry, the voice in my head said, it may not be your place to say anything.

What do you mean?

They may count you as family, but you are not Molly's parent.

I almost grimaced. You're right.

Lash, the friendly Fallen Angel who was renting out my extra head-space went quiet again.

"It's not really my place to say much, here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Charity asked. Molly gave me a guilty look.

"Exactly what it sounds like." I turned to Molly. "As far as the magical world is concerned, you're my responsibility, Molly. But they're not my parents. You're an adult. It's your place to decide what gets said and what doesn't."

She took a deep breath as most of her family looked at her. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at her mother. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't want to scare you."

Charity's mouth dropped open as realisation dawned. "No. No, I am not going through this again." She raised a very scary-looking finger in my direction. "Do you hear me? I am not letting someone threaten my daughter again! I thought this was over!"

"Charity." Michael didn't raise his voice, but his wife stopped talking. "Harry?"

"Normally," I said, "when an apprentice takes their exams, there are two components: power, and control. If they show good control but little power, they are not invited into the White Council. If they show power but no control, they are put under the Doom of Damocles until that changes, and are re-tested every year. But in Molly's case, given what happened before, and the fact she's already on probation, if she doesn't show control now, it'll be assumed that she never will."

The consequence of that spread across his face slowly.

"How long does she have?" Charity whispered. She grabbed Molly's hand without looking.

"We've got until Halloween to prepare. And she is going to be ready."

"She had better be," Charity said, very quietly. Her eldest daughter was weeping. The younger children didn't appear to quite understand, and I was grateful for that.

Michael stood, awkwardly, letting Hope take his seat. He hobbled over to me, and offered his hand. I stood and took it. "I have every faith that you will give her all the skills she needs. But," he said, pulling me in close, and lowering his voice, "if anyone were to raise a hand against my daughter, I would stand in front of her."

"I know you would. And I like to think you know I would, too."

He gave me a fierce smile and slapped my on the arm.

As my vision cleared, I saw Father Forthill had joined us, back to wearing his simple black suit and white collar. "Oh, my. Did I walk in on a hugging moment?"

"Wait," Charity said suddenly, turning to me. "This is happening because you disappeared. Where did you go?"

Oh, boy. I had planned to tell Michael this part alone. But Charity had asked, and as Molly's mother, she had every right to know. And the way my life goes, Molly was going to find out, sooner or later. What the hell. If I couldn't trust Michael and his family, who could I trust? The only other person I'd told was Murphy, and she had other fish to fry at the moment.

"Well, that brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk about. Everything I'm about to say cannot leave the room. I'm especially looking at you, Molly, since we move in the same circle." I obviously had their attention. She even stopped her tears. "Now, do any of you believe in time travel?"

*****

As story-telling skills go, mine have refined a lot over the years. Everyone pulled up a seat. I couldn't stop all the interruptions, but I got most of tale out in under ten minutes. Molly was surprised when I said I had gone back in time. When she pointed out that it was against the Laws, Charity got angry. And cold. Very, very cold. "My daughter is being persecuted, but you get away with it?"

So, I had to explain about the Blackstaff. "Everyone is held to the Laws, with exactly one exception. The Blackstaff is permitted to break them, but only in the direst of circumstances, and only to protect others. Doesn't mean it's right, and I took a long time to even speak to him again after I found out. But I've seen that it's necessary, sometimes. To be frank, that's one reason among many that I stood up for Molly 4 years ago."

Molly's mouth hung open, and I knew I was going to get questions later. Good. She was growing up.

Charity quietly stewed for a moment, and I swear the little room got colder. Then Forthill spoke up. "The Bible has a few examples of people stepping forward to do what no one else can, even when it was frowned upon."

"Such as?" Charity demanded.

"Jesus." To the shocked silence that followed, he continued, "Removing the money-changers from the Temple. Others were afraid of instigating violence in God's house, but He took it upon Himself to throw them out, for they were the greater sinners."

"The lesser of two evils," Michael said thoughtfully. "You needed to know who has been moving against the Council." His face went still and he gently squeezed Hope and Harry. "Who has been attacking innocents."

"Exactly." I continued my story, getting to the point where Michael and I entered the Nevernever in pursuit of Sumi Kitoro, the Jade Court vampire, pausing long enough to say, "It goes high. This Black Council has members all over the place: vampires in all four Courts; at least two or three Denarians; at least one traitor on the White Council; a few uber-powerful necromancers; and some Fae."

Forthill perked up. "The Fae?"

I nodded. "That's what I found out. When Michael and I were in the Nevernever, I overheard a meeting between the vampire we chased and the Summer Lady. She basically said that her mother, the Summer Queen, is the mastermind behind the Black Council."

Michael bowed his head, thinking. Molly covered her mouth, eyes wide. Curiously, Forthill went pale and still. "Father? You okay?"

"I… yes." He breathed out. "It's just… the Church has noted, in recent years, that the activities of the Denarians have become much more… organised. Particularly the ones who follow Imariel. If she has partnered with one of the most powerful beings in existence… we could be in trouble."

I nodded. "The Faerie Queens are on the same level as the average archangel."

"I find that hard to believe," Charity said.

"Oh, in this reality, they have their limits. But the Nevernever is another plane of existence. You saw Arctis Tor, Charity. Mab didn't hire contractors. She willed that place into existence. Might have had some trolls do the heavy lifting, but it was mostly her. And the land, air and life within the realm of Winter obeys her will. It's a lot of power.

"Titania is her equivalent in Summer. She rules from Equius Val, and commands things just as bad as the trolls and fetches."

Charity bowed her head and silently crossed herself. Molly crossed her arms and didn't look at anybody. Arctis Tor had been a bad time, made easier by the fact that the Denarians, the Fallen Angels, had attacked Mab before we got there, pumping out Hellfire and destroying anything and everything in their path. The carnage had been remarkable, but not absolute, and we'd barely found Molly and escaped with our lives. I thought I heard a murmur from Lash.

I know, I thought back. I'm coming to it. After.

The best thing about Michael is that he's so direct and honest. That being said, the main problem with Michael is that he's so direct and honest. He can't help but inspire those qualities in others, including certain professional wizards. As with the time travel bit, I'd only told Karrin Murphy that Lash was again bouncing around in my cerebral cortex. She'd taken it remarkably well, only making one crack about how I can't resist a damsel in distress.

"Anyway," I continued, "I figured you had a right to know. The unintended side effect of my trip was the return date. I overshot the day I left, meaning I literally didn't exist, and couldn't be found, magically or otherwise. The consequences of that, I've spent the last two days trying to undo. Unfortunately, I can't." I paused, waiting for the awkward silence to end. It didn't, so I finished, weakly, "I'm sorry."

"You did what you thought was right," Charity said a century later. Mentally, I let go of a breath I'd been holding.

I saw Michael nod. "You had no control over what happened here while you were gone, Harry. We can't blame you for Molly's predicament. However, I know we can count on you to get her out of it."

I half-smiled, and looked at Molly. "You can count on both of us," I said.

She gave me the other half of the smile, and nodded.

"Why don't you report back after lunch, Grasshopper?"

"Really?"

"Sure. I'm getting sick of the sight of you, anyway."

She jumped out of her chair and hugged me. "Thanks, Teach."

A few moments later, we were all walking back into the church proper, the children clinging to their mother (though Alicia kept glancing back) and Forthill silently keeping Michael and me company behind them.

"So," Michael said in a low voice, "something else is bothering you. What is it?"

I came right out with it. "Lasciel's shadow has returned."

Forthill gave me a sharp look, coming out of his reverie, but Michael just nodded without looking at me. "And?"

"I'm not driving her away. She's no longer asking me to take up the coin."

"How long since she returned?"

"If I add it all up, about four days."

He shook his head. "Four days without suggesting the coin? Without offering power?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't prove much, Harry. She has millennia of experience manipulating people."

I smiled at him as we walked through the front doors into the sunshine. As promised, the Beetle was still where I'd left it, in everyone's way. "People have the ability to change, Michael."

"Yes, people, Harry. Not immortal beings."

I opened the car door and bounced my eyebrows up and down. "Ah, come on. Have a little faith."

He just shook his head again, Father Forthill looking worried beside him. "I will be keeping an eye on you, Harry."

I nodded. "I wouldn't expect any less."

As I pulled out of the lot, I saw Michael looking happily at his family. I saw Molly and Charity, both looking tired. And I saw Alicia looking at me.

It creeped me out, a little. I mean, I just went to her 14th birthday a couple months ago. Crap. I went through this with Molly, too, and it turned out awkwardly, to say the least. I'm starting to feel like a very dirty, old man.

Maybe I just need to spend less time with children.

The drive out to Mac's wasn't a lonely one. Lash took the opportunity to project an image of herself into my passenger seat. She appeared as a pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties, wearing a very flattering toga, and bright red hair.

"Settled on red, have you?"

"It seems to be the most eye-catching."

"I'll give you that. So, what's up?"

"I wanted to thank you. For standing up to Michael for me."

"It wasn't really standing up. I just told him I wasn't kicking you out."

"Which is more than you would have done before. And more than any previous host I had would have done."

"Michael isn't the type of guy you convince of things. He has to come around to it himself." She appeared to think for a moment, then nodded and vanished.

I pulled into Mac's a minute later. Located in the sunken bottom of an older office building, it's a cool, small, familiar tavern, and one of the only places I've ever seen that's been accorded neutral territory rights by the signatories of the Unseelie Accords, the major multi-lateral peace agreement running through the supernatural world. The steak and beer are made off-site, somewhere. Heaven, I think.

Murphy was waiting in the parking lot, sitting in her Saturn. Bummer. I wouldn't get to go inside, and I was hungry. Hungry Harry, cranky Harry. There was a large black man in the passenger seat. He appeared to be asleep, but experience told me her was faking.

I squeezed the Beetle into a parking spot between a wall and a rusty piece of Detroit iron, and headed over to Murph's Saturn. She got out, wearing a Cubs jacket and jeans, and brought a brown paper bag with her. She had her good-cop face on, which meant she was in a good mood, but still all-business.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hey, Murph. How's Rawlins?"

"He's just fine, thank you," the old cop's voice came out of Murphy's car. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "You know, I suggested lunch. Not standing around near lunch. Not approaching lunch. Not passing by lunch, but - "

She thrust the bag at me, and I saw a steak sandwich inside.

" – actual lunch." I grabbed the bag and took a whiff of the manna inside. "Oh, you are a saint, Karrin." I started to eat.

"Shut up."

"Wait. Mac doesn't do take-out."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"That's true. He does like you."

"Again, shut up. I'm being nice because we're in a hurry."

"Oh?" I said around a mouthful.

"We have a lead on those trolls."

I swallowed. "I'm coming."

She sighed. "You can't."

"The hell I can't, Murph. They were looking for me. And three cops got hurt."

"Yeah. Three cops got hurt. Which is why you can't come."

"What do you – oh, godammit. Politics?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry. But when cops get hurt, other cops get angry. SI is the red-headed step-child, but we're still part of the family. There are 20 additional officers and detectives on this case. Normals. Including a few who would take note if you came along."

I was quiet for a minute, thinking. I came up with nothing useful. "That sucks ass, Murph."

"Tell me about it. One troll, maybe two, I'm not worried about. Four, and I start to hope you'll come along." She grinned. "But, maybe it's better this way. No chance of you trying to go all chauvinistic on me, save my life or something stupid like that."

"I would never!"

She punched me lightly on the arm. "It goes down in twenty minutes. I have to go."

"Call me the instant it's over."

"Of course."

She got back in her car and drove off, Rawlins opening his eyes just long enough to give me a thumbs up. He's a good cop, and there are few people I'd trust to watch Murph's back more. I silently hoped the police didn't find the trolls at all, but SI was too good at what it did. So, I hoped instead they'd all come out of it alright.

I decided to finish my lunch inside, maybe grab a beer to go with the steak. As I was walking across the lot, another car pulled in and rolled up beside me, a nice big town car.

It stopped, and after a glance, I kept walking. It pulled up beside me again. I kept walking, trying to keep a smile off my face. The car pulled up again just as I was about to descend the steps into Mac's.

I heard a powered window rolling down. "Very cute, Dresden."

I turned around. "Oh, hello, John. I didn't see you there."

Gentleman Johnny Marcone owned most of Chicago, and it annoyed the hell out of me. The most polite gangster you'd ever meet, he was also quite good at keeping the collateral damage from crime at a minimum; in many ways, he was the lesser of all potential evils. I understood him and his motives, if nothing else. Didn't mean I liked him.

He'd helped me out of a scrape or two, though, and I'd given him a few things he wanted, too… including official standing as an independent Baron and signatory of the Unseelie Accords.

He was also a smooth-talking, smarmy bastard who always got what he wanted, unless I was involved. Which is why it always surprised the hell out of me when he sought me out. Maybe he just liked a challenge.

His faded green eyes twinkled a little as he said, "I was wondering if we could speak for a moment, Dresden."

"Actually, John," I said, knowing he hated it, "I was about to enjoy my lunch." I rustled the bag.

"Perfect. I'll join you."

Before I could think of something witty to say, the front door of the car opened and a very large man with very short red hair and a very serious expression got out. "Hendricks," I said with a nod. He nodded curtly back and opened Marcone's door.

Marcone stepped out, buttoning his very expensive suit jacket as he came, a vague smile on his face and a perennial boater's tan sunk into his skin. "My treat?" he suggested.

"Well, now I can't say no." I turned and headed down the stairs, not waiting for him. I stuffed my half-eaten sandwich in a deep pocket. He followed me in, weaving among the carved pillars and occupied, mismatched tables, right up to the bar. Hendricks stood off to the side, back to a wall. Mac, possibly the world's greatest cook, was standing behind the bar, apron spotless, arms crossed and eyes sharp.

"The usual, please," Marcone said. "Well, make it two."

Mac nodded and set work slicing bread and meat. "Usual? I've never seen you in here before, John."

"That's because I just discovered the place, Dresden. About, oh, a month ago? Quite the hidden gem."

I gave him a sidelong glance. "A month, you say?"

"Yes, curious timing, I know." Mac set a pair of bottles down, the caps already popped off. Mac's ale is the only thing in the world greater than his steak. If only he'd chill it.

Marcone made a show of spreading out a napkin on his lap.

"You obviously know more than you're letting on, John. Maybe we should just skip to the point."

"In a moment, Dresden. I've been looking forward this all morning."

"I already have my lunch," I said, and showed him the bag again, as I stood to leave.

"Mab's not the one making problems for you, is she?"

It was a simple question, with many possible reasons for being asked, given my history with the Winter Queen. But with Marcone's timing, and his standing among the supernatural forces, it was obvious he was getting at something relevant to my current situation. The jerk.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Oh, there have been some rumblings. Among the other signatories. Some questions raised as to the Winter Queen's sanity. But you already know that, don't you?"

I sat back down, never taking my eyes off the crime boss. "What do you know, Marcone?"

Mac set our plates down. I took a half-second's happiness from the fact that he put down mine first.

Marcone picked up his sandwich while I waited. He had my attention, and he knew it. So, he drew it out. I didn't give him the satisfaction of begging or demanding while he took a bite. I drank my beer instead.

He swallowed and wiped his mouth, then spoke again. "I've had some minor business dealings with the Winter Queen in the last year. Nothing you need be worried about, of course. I have also had dealings with a Mr. Ferro, face-to-face."

"Ferrovax is a dragon."

"Oh, I know. But he was still willing to talk to me, in person, so to speak. And I have also met Mab, again, in person. I have to admit, she is one magnificent creature."

He took another bite, and I took another swig, waiting for him to get to the point. "I'm getting bored, John. I have other places to be today."

Again, he wiped his mouth with his napkin, dare I say, daintily? Well, I would dare, but didn't want to piss him off before he told me something important.

"I've met several other signatories, again, in person. But there is one party to the Accords I have yet to meet, despite my best efforts." He turned to me now, and I saw steel in his eyes. "The Summer Queen. Titania."

I tried to keep all emotion off my face. If he knew anything, I needed to know it, too. "Won't return your calls, huh?"

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "If there is one thing I've learned in all my years of business, Dresden, it's that when a person doesn't want to meet face-to-face, it's because they're hiding something. Something they know you'll figure out very easily."

The last thing I needed was for Marcone to get involved in faerie politics. "Don't take it too personally, John. She's the only Queen I've never met, either. From what I hear, she doesn't like to meet anyone outside her Court."

"Precisely, Dresden. I can appreciate being selective, picky, even. But to turn down all opportunities is bad business."

"Sorry, Commodore Perry, that port is closed. Titania isn't big on outsiders. Hell, it took her several years to warm up to Lily."

"Yes, the Summer Lady. A mortal Summer Lady. Installed when you killed the previous one."

My voice went cold and quiet. "Aurora was insane."

"I know. Everyone knows. Yet, some of the signatories blame you for driving Titania to solitude. Not me, of course. I know why you did what you did. But now, I wonder…" He was quiet for a moment, then took another bite. "You see, as the only mortal signatory to the Accords, I take a different view of things than most. A shorter-term view, perhaps. I don't have a thousand years of memories to refer to. I only have what's right in front of me. And what I see now, today, is a Faerie Queen with a chip on her shoulder and a grudge against you."

He washed down the last of his sandwich. "Excellent. Well, Dresden, I just thought you should know. You're not the only one with reason to worry about the Summer Queen. I don't think any of the other signatories have the same suspicions I do, but given enough time, who knows what conclusions they might come to."

Suddenly, I got it: The son of a bitch was trying to get me to give up what I knew. All he had was his suspicions.

I smiled and stood. "Well, thanks for the warning, John. I appreciate it, but I don't need your patronage."

Then I grabbed the sandwich and left.

On the way to the Beetle, Lash appeared again, walking along side me. "What are you going to do, Harry?"

"Head home, leave instructions for Molly, then make a phone call."

"To who?" I got in the car, and she was already inside.

"The Summer Lady. I need to talk to Lily."