Chapter 1: Auto Mire

'Life is unfair,' probably the single most imparted lesson in human history after 'don't touch that,' and 'your face will stick that way.' It's meant to explain to a five year old a mystery that has stumped theologians and philosophers for generations; the problem of why bad things happen to good people. Alternatively I suppose it could also be a way to shut kids up when they started trying to use logic to their advantage, not that I really have what one would call extensive experience with children. My dubious parenting skills aside, though, the message itself is a pretty accurate one. Life, in my experience, isn't fair. It doesn't care about good or evil, right or wrong, justice or corruption; in the end we're all just playthings in its sick twisted game.

Of course, that's not to imply life is equally unfair to everyone, after all that would defeat the point. No, when it comes to Life's cruel fun some playthings are more favored than others. Me?

"So, Harry, when you insisted on driving because, and I quote, 'no one knows how to make the Beetle run like me. There's a special bond here that nothing could break,' were you trying to be ironic for humor's sake, or have you finally taken too many blows to the head?"

I'm like a treasured childhood teddy bear. You know, the kind missing an eye and half its stuffing.

The obnoxious pain in the ass currently giving a long and detailed history of my past automotive indiscretions was Thomas, my older brother and member of the White Court of Vampires, which meant he had the body of a Greek god and the sexual restraint to match. Well, okay, he'd never turned into a bull to get with a girl, but probably only because he didn't need to.

As for myself, my name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, Warden of the White Council, slayer of evil, and the only wizard of the Chicago City Phone Book (Previously any phone book, before my ex decided to steal my gimmick). None of which happened to explain why I was standing in the middle of a rainstorm in the middle of Washington State being chewed out by my brother just because I happened to have some bad luck with cars. Bad luck that he was totally exaggerating might I add. I only jumped out of a moving car once.

I think.

Looking around, and tuning Thomas out, I stared out at the lush foliage all around us. Having pretty much stuck to Chicago for most of my adult life, I hadn't had the chance to spend much time in forests, and while these particular woods might have been beautiful on a sunny day the fact that the weather right now could be generously described as disgusting was not doing much to convince me I was missing out. Sure the sound of water pattering against bright green leaves and the distant rumble of thunder might have been soothing to some, but I'm willing to bet my substandard paycheck those people had never been almost eaten by lions. And tigers. And demonic bears. Oh my.

Turning away from thoughts of whatever might be lurking in the woods, waiting for a nice wizardly snack, I returned my attention to Thomas, who was istill/i going on about my luck with moving vehicles. Honestly, I should have known counting on him to get bored was a lost cause. Thomas never got bored of the sound of his own voice.

"Look," I started, forestalling another retelling of that time with the fungus demon, "Which of us was the one who wanted to carpool because he didn't want to pay for gas himself? Which of us said it would be good for us to have some family bonding time? Which of us insisted on taking my car to avoid getting his own wrecked?"

Thomas paused and glared, apparently as irritated by logic as the aforementioned parents. "Harry, you seem to be implying this is somehow all my fault, when we both know I'm far too handsome for anything to be my fault. You really need to stop saying such crazy things."

Entertaining the thought of what my brother would look like as a toad, I decided to forgo any violations of the Laws of Magic today, and instead turned to contemplate the third member of our little journey. "Hey Mouse, whose fault do you think this is?"

Staring back at me, my Doggysarus Rex straightened from where he was laying across the back of the car, (not the back seat mind you, the entire back half of the car), and gave me a doggy grin. His opinion on which of us was to blame, if indeed he had one, remained unvoiced. A master of diplomacy, that was my Mouse.

"Well, either way," I continued, running a hand through my hair and staring at my poor much abused car, its noble name 'the Blue Beetle' ever increasingly a misnomer as more of its body was replaced with different colored parts from other Volkswagens, "I think we're walking from here. The last sign said the next town is only a few miles. We should be able to get someone to tow the Beetle there." I didn't want to leave my noble car behind, but it was getting dark and I was beginning to suspect that it never stopped raining in this state, so my options were limited.

Thomas arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the whole way."

"Do you really need to make this experience more miserable?" My brother's vigorous nods confirmed that yes he did, which was about as surprising as my car breaking down. And Murphy thought I took comfort from routine.

"Alright," I said with another sigh, opening the back door to let Mouse slip out with far too much grace for a dog his size. "Lets get going then." Retrieving the massive rolling suitcase that held all our stuff from the back of the trunk one handed, Thomas nodded and fell into step with me.

Setting off at something less than a trot but more than a mosey, and rather far from a skip, our unusual trio set out along the highway, the dark and mysterious woods our only company. Looking around, I half expected to see the bright yellow eyes of an old Hanna Barbera cartoon looming out of the shadows at me. Reaching into my leather duster's pocket I gripped the familiar weight of my blasting rod.

Hey, some people had security blankets; I had phenomenal cosmic powers. Linus, eat your heart out.

"So, what exactly is the name of this place we're going to again?"

"Forks. Forks, Washington."

"Huh, sounds nice."