GRADUATION DAY
The great doors of the assembly hall of the White Council (Reformed) opened slowly and silently. The grey-clad wardens on either side of the door snapped to attention. Wizards began streaming out of the hall, the air filling with the buzz of a hundred conversations in a dozen different languages, although Latin, the lingua franca of the White Council, predominated.
The crown parted and eleven smiling young people, looking quite pleased to be wearing their new grey cloaks, strode from the hall to the applause of the assembled multitude. An older wizard motioned them to follow him toward the waiting reception for the newly minted wardens of the White Council of wizards. They dutifully strode off after him, laughing and congratulating each other on their elevation.
The crowd of wizards followed them, and the buzz in the hall faded away. Only then did the twelfth and youngest of the new wardens emerge from the hall. She was tall, a shade over six feet, with long, straight black hair that framed a beautiful, sad face.
Margaret Angelica Rodriguez had just become the youngest wizard ever to don the grey cloak of the Wardens of the White Council.
She looked around the empty entry hall, sighed, and started down the hallway in the opposite direction from the throng of wizards.
A hooded figure stepped from behind a pillar and Maggie stopped short. Her face suddenly brightened and she flung herself at the other. "Molly!" she cried. "You came!"
Molly Carpenter staggered backward at the impact. Although Maggie was several inches taller than her, Molly was more solidly built, with broad shoulders inherited from her father, the former Knight of the Cross. Still, physics being physics, Maggie had momentum on her side. It was all the older woman could do to keep from falling on her shapely butt.
Molly smiled up at the young woman. "You didn't really think I would miss my apprentice's big day, did you grasshopper?"
Maggie nodded. "Well, I was afraid that since you've never exactly been comfortable around the Council…"
Molly gave an involuntary shudder. Her first expose to the Council had been her trial as a warlock, when the Council was threatening to cut off her head. Only the intervention of Harry Dresden, himself once tried as a warlock, had saved her neck. Molly forced the memory away and smiled. "Water under the bridge," she said unconvincingly. "I had to be here. I just… watched from the back row."
Maggie hugged her again. "I'm so glad you came," she said, her eyes wet with tears.
Molly returned the hug and they stood there for several minutes, as if they were afraid to let each other go. Finally, Molly pulled away from the embrace, but held onto Maggie's hands. "I am so proud of you," she beamed.
"I owe it all to you," Maggie said. "You taught me everything I know."
"Well, not everything…" Molly said modestly.
"Okay, so Aunt Karrin taught me how to fight and Grumps taught me a few tricks…"
Molly couldn't help but grin. Who else but Maggie Ramirez would call Ebenezer McCoy, the current Merlin of the White Council, 'Grumps'? Slowly, however, the grin faded.
"Molly?" Maggie asked. "What's wrong?"
"We… We need to talk," Molly said. She looked around. The entry hall was empty, but here, in the stronghold of the White Council beneath the City of Edinburg, the walls could quite literally have ears. "Let's go to my room."
Molly took Maggie by the hand and led her down the hallway. After a few twists and turns, they came to a rather non-descript doorway with a single rune carved in its oaken surface – one of the guest rooms for visitors to the White Council.
"Care to do the honors?" Molly asked.
Maggie grinned. "Still with the testing, boss?"
"Practice makes perfect."
Maggie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her Eyes. The Sight allowed her to see the faint tendrils of power that made up the wards guarding Molly's door. She studied them for a moment and then nodded slowly. "Not very complex," she said. "Not exactly your best work,"
"Getting a little uppity now that you're wearing a grey robe, are you?" Molly asked.
The blood drained from Maggie's face. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean… That is, I…"
Molly laughed, the sound echoing down the empty corridor. "It's okay," she said, laying a hand on Maggie's arm. "I didn't think I needed full-blown wards in the middle of Wizard Central." She tilted a head at the door. "Go ahead."
Maggie made a few quick motions with her hands, and the lines of magic faded away. Clearly, Molly had designed the wards to allow Maggie entrance; otherwise the procedure would have been much, much harder. Molly Carpenter was not the most powerful wizard on the White Council by far, but the she was one of the most subtle. If her combat magic left something to be desired, her veils and wards were legendary. Which was, of course, why Maggie had spent the last year studying battle magic with Anastasia Luccio, Captain of the Wardens.
Once the wards were down, Maggie smirked and pushed the door open…
And a terrible shriek filled the corridor.
Maggie clamped her hands over her ears and grimaced at her teacher.
Molly smiled beneficently. Somehow, her voice carried easily over the din. "Just remember, grasshopper. I didn't teach you everything I know."
"Okay! Okay!" Maggie shouted. "I concede the point! You are still the master!"
Molly waved her hand and the shrieking stopped.
Maggie looked up and down the corridor and shook her head. "I thought that would bring the guard at a run for sure."
Molly shrugged. "They couldn't hear it."
Maggie rolled her eyes and stomped into the room. "Show off," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that?" Molly asked, closing the door behind her and waving the wards back into the place with a simple flick of her wrist.
"Nothing," Maggie said. She pulled off her robe, revealing a tight red dress underneath. Maggie had a very nice figure, and she enjoyed torturing the young male wizards with it.
Molly pulled off her own formal robe and hung it on a hook by the door. Underneath, she was dressed in jeans, combat boots, and a simple white blouse. She motioned Maggie to one of the two overstuffed chairs that flanked a low table in the corner of the room. Maggie threw her new grey cloak over the back of one of the chairs and flopped down into the chair with the innate casualness of youth.
Molly stepped over to the other chair, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the far wall as she did so. The various piercings and tattoos of her youth were gone; the piercings removed and the tattoos fading over time – a byproduct of her body's wizardly healing properties. Her hair, too, was more conservative, having reverted to her natural dirty blonde instead of streaked with blue or pink or purple. Somehow, the whole 'rebellious youth' look hadn't fit for a mature wizard with an apprentice of her own.
She settled into the chair and smiled at Maggie. "I really am proud of you, you know," she said.
Maggie blushed a little and looked down.
"And," Molly said, her voice cracking a little, "your father would be proud of you, too."
Maggie looked up, her eyes wide.
"My… my father," she stammered. "You knew my father?"
Molly took a deep breath. She had practiced this moment in her head a thousand times. It didn't make this any easier. "Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I knew him… and I loved him."
Maggie stared at Molly, but her eyes were unfocused, her gazed focused on something a million miles away. Her breath grew ragged and she blinked rapidly, her eyes focusing now on Molly. "All these years. All this time. How come you never told me?"
Molly blinked back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. "I made a promise," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "To your father. I promised him I wouldn't tell you, until… Until the time was right. Until you were ready."
Maggie was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Who?" she choked out. "Who was he? Who was my father?"
"Your father," said Molly, "was the greatest wizard… the greatest man I have ever known."
"Tell me," Maggie demanded. But she already knew. She knew his name before it ever crossed Molly's lips.
"Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden," Molly said. "Your father was Harry Dresden."