Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story

Eleven

I looked at Murphy. She looked back at me. I kept looking at Murphy. Hey, considering what she was currently wearing, can you blame me? I didn't think so.

"Harry, quit gawking at me and get the damn door." said the scantily clad Murphy.

"Uh…do you think that's a good idea?" I asked.

"Harry, do you really think that whoever is out there would knock on the door first if they wanted to hurt us?"

"Stranger things than that have happened to me, believe that." I replied.

"You're impossible. Okay, then, what about your wards? They haven't been activated." Murphy said.

"I'm not so sure that means anything. Ba'al got into my office yesterday and I don't know how he did it. One second I was alone…and the next he was just there. He could be nullifying the magical defenses I have in place. I don't know enough about him. I've been in over my head before…hell, I'm in over my head almost all of the time…but this is different." I replied.

"Harry, for heaven's sake quit your crying, you big baby." said Murphy.

I was getting ready to say something, something probably stupid, but just then whoever, or whatever, was outside knocked again.

"Harry? By the stars, son! Open the door. It's Eb."

Eb? Ebenezar McCoy? What in the hell was he doing here?

I summoned my staff (just in case) and headed towards the door. Murphy stayed put and probably got a few chuckles from watching me struggle to get my damn front door open. Once I finally did I couldn't believe my eyes. It really was Ebenezar. And he looked like he'd just been in a fight…or a couple of them.

I helped Eb inside and over to my couch. He all but collapsed by the time I got him there. He was exhausted; and he bore signs that stated he had been in some tough battles recently. Ebenezar McCoy. My mentor. One of the most powerful wizards on the planet. Blackstaff of the White Council. And here he was in my apartment – all but dead on his feet. How's the old saying go? Oh…yeah…when it rains, it pours.

"You look like shit. Er…Sir." I said.

"Harry…" said Murphy, sounding just a tad reproachful. Well, okay, sounding very reproachful.

"Hey! I couldn't help it. I finally got the chance to say that to someone else and I wasn't going to pass it up." I replied.

"I repeat. You're an idiot." Murphy said.

"Ummm…excuse me…but when the two of you are finished do you think one of you could fetch me some aspirin?" said one extremely tired-sounding Blackstaff.

"Shit! I'm sorry, sir. I'll be right back." I said, already heading for my bedroom (and a first aid kit).

"Hello, ma'am. I remember you from the Mavra hunt. Although you were wearing a lot more clothes then…and you weren't wielding one of the Swords. I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" inquired Ebenezar of the still scantily clad, Sword toting Murphy.

"What? Interrupt…? Oh! No! No, you didn't interrupt anything at all. Um…I'm going to go change." replied Murphy, her face already starting to turn a bright shade of red.

We passed each other as I was heading back to tend to Eb. The look on her face stated in no uncertain terms that now would not be an ideal time to mess with her. Which, in my case, meant that it would be a perfect time to mess with her. Unfortunately, I had a wounded wizard to tend to. Hey, who says I can't prioritize?

I handed the pain-killers to Eb, along with a tall glass of water. I watched as he swallowed the pills and then emptied his glass. Then I handed him a truly magical elixir that I was sure would restore him to full health in no time. That's right…one of Mac's micro-brews…and ice-cold no less. And that's when Murphy came back out after…regretfully…changing back into the clothes she was wearing when she arrived at my apartment the previous day.

"Beer? You're giving him beer? And after you just gave him pain-killers? Are you crazy?" asked Murphy, obviously not very impressed with my healing methods.

"Easy, Murph. This isn't just beer. It's Mac's beer. And wizards, especially ones as powerful as Ebenezar here, are a rather hardy bunch. He'll be fine." I replied.

"Harry's right, ma'am. Don't be angry with him on my account." added Ebenezar.

"Okay, Eb, time to spill it. What happened to you?" I asked.

"On my way here…I was attacked…well…ambushed would be a better word…on three separate occasions. I survived them…that's rather obvious or I wouldn't be here…but…they were tough fights. Someone did not want me to make it here in one piece…but rather in pieces. I believe now that the Gatekeeper was accurate in his assessment of the current situation." Eb replied, pausing every now and then to take a pull from his brew.

"The Gatekeeper? Stars and Stones, Eb. What has he got to do with this?"

"I don't know, really. He came to me a few days ago and said that you were going to need my help. He told me I had to leave right away and get here as soon as I possibly could. He said that you are, or rather, were going to be, involved in a very dangerous plot. One with several potential ramifications, all of them ranging from bad…to very, very bad." replied Eb.

"Hell's bells…" I said, suddenly at a loss for words.

"So what have you got yourself into this time, Hoss?" asked Eb.

Murphy and I both found a spot in which to sit down. I was thrilled to see that Murphy was still carrying Fiddelacchius with her. They seemed to be growing inseparable. Then I launched into my story. I told Eb everything. Well, almost everything. I told him about the abduction of Miss Gard. About Mavra's late night visit. About Scar. And, of course, about Baal. I left out the part about Bob's/Mister's current recon mission. At some point I'm going to have to come clean as far as Bob is concerned…but not now.

"Damn, son. When you go looking for trouble, you certainly don't beat around the bush." said Eb, after I had finished.

"Hey! I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble finds me." I replied.

"Talk about understatements…" I heard Murphy say, attempting to hide it as a mumble. I shot her a look, and Murphy, true to form, shot one right back at me.

"Okay, Hoss, I'm in. What's the plan?" asked my old mentor in his unique Southern drawl.

"Er…plan?" I asked back.

"Yes. Your plan. The course of action you have chosen. You do have one, don't you?"

"Well, yes, sort of…" I replied.

"Good. Very good. Let's hear it." Eb said, sounding very optimistic. I figured that wasn't going to last for very long. Actually I figured that it would last about as long as it would take for me to tell him my…er…plan.

"Um…first, we're going to find Ba'al, and hopefully, where he's taken the Valkyrie as well. That part of the plan is actually in execution as we speak. I assigned the task to a special…er…operative I associate with from time to time. Once we know where the bastard is, well…we rally the troops and confront the dragon in its lair…so to speak. We rip his head off, shit down his neck, and rescue Sigrun. Um, not necessarily in that order, but I think you get the general idea. Oh, and I expect Scar to rear his ugly head somewhere during all of this, probably blowing my well thought out, highly-detailed battle plan, all to hell. So…what do you think?"

Ebenezar just sat there for awhile. To say that he was speechless, well, talk about understatements once again. Then, finally, he broke the silence. "Well, son, I've sat in on a few war councils in my time. And I've been privy to, briefed on, or even developed, just a few battle plans over the years. And while yours is rather simple, well…I like it. Besides, as a German Field Marshall once said 'No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy', and more times than not that statement has been proven true more than it has been false." said Eb.

"Okay, then, just to make sure that we are all on the same page, I would like to recap. First…we're going to find him; second…we're gonna kick his ass; and third…we're gonna rescue the damsel in distress…who in this case just happens to be a friggin' Valkyrie." I said, feeling rather proud of my intuitive tactical genius. And, yes, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that there is no way in Hell that this is going to go down like that. And you would be right. More right than you could possibly know.