Chapter 28
It was a few nights after that encounter, just as dusk was settling across the cityscape, that my wards lit up like fireworks. Having been down in the lab with Bob, I ran upstairs, wondering if Marcone was going to dare to attack me on my own turf.
But just as quickly as the ward bells had started, they cut off. The lamps were still burning, just in case I had any inclination of thinking I'd imagined them. Based on the color, there'd been a serious threat.
"What is it?" I asked as I got to the top of the stairs. Lacuna was waiting, hovering in place with her armor already on. I could hear distant chatter from the other Guard members as they changed into their battle gear.
"It's him," Lacuna hissed, her anger surprising me.
"Marcone?" I asked doubtfully. "He couldn't even dream of setting off the wards like this."
"No, not Marcone," the tiny fairy replied, her tone almost terse. "Him."
Moving to a wooden box on the hallway table, I muttered a spell as I opened it. The magic activated the oval mirror set into the lid. Its surface changed from a milky gray to crystal clear. But rather than reflecting me or the inside of the house, it showed me a view from the gate.
"Oh," I said coldly. "Him."
A minute later I made my way outside and down the driveway. I had one of my spell-worked suits on, as well as a make-shift shield bracelet I'd thrown together while still under isolation. My soot-streaked staff was slung over my shoulder, and I hoped I looked like a lumberjack about to cut down a particularly annoying tree.
When I got to the gate, I found Nicodemus waiting.
"Harry," the demon said with a smile and a nod.
"I'm going to kill you," I growled as I approached.
Nicodemus blinked at the finality of my words. "Won't you hear what I have to say?"
"No," I replied, but paused just inside the gate. I figured he probably wasn't alone, but didn't see Deirdre anywhere in sight. As far as I could tell, it was just him and a steamer trunk sitting on the sidewalk.
"Very well," he said with a dismissive shrug. "Then let us assume that my daughter is close at hand. If you make an attempt on my life, she will kill her hostages."
My eyebrow rose over my flat look. "What hostages?" I asked dubiously.
Nicodemus shrugged again. "I don't know. School children perhaps, or an elderly couple from up the road. I think there were some Streetwolves a couple blocks over that she took an interest in." His eyes were as sure as his smile. "Regardless, someone innocent and undeserving of such a fate."
"Yeah, I bet," I replied before walking off the property. "There's just one thing wrong with that."
"Oh?" Nicodemus asked, looking mildly surprised.
"Yeah," I replied darkly. "You seem to think that's going to stop me."
As I advanced toward the man, he started backing away, his eyes widening. "You'd let them die? Even if it was your people?"
"Someone recently told me that you can't control others," I replied. "Those that choose to be close to me know it comes at a cost. And that cost might be high."
"But to sacrifice them…" he argued as he continued backpedaling.
"I think they'd understand," I assured him. "If it meant ridding the world of you."
Nicodemus blinked again, before coming to a stop. That surprised me, and gave me pause as well. As did the next thing he did.
He smiled.
"Excellent," the demon replied, sounding almost relieved. "You're beginning to understand."
"Understand what?" I asked, my suspicion growing at his sudden change in demeanor. "That it's high time someone put that noose to good use?"
"That some causes are so great, sacrifices are required," Nicodemus said calmly, coldly. "That some evils are so unthinkable, that a lesser evil must be permitted, even committed, in an effort to stop it."
His words chilled me in a way that the mantle could do nothing for. "What are you talking about?"
Nicodemus's smile became almost rueful. "Harry, Harry… I forget how young you are. How little you know of the world, and what lies beyond it."
My look was dark. "I'm willing to send you ahead to see what lies beyond."
The man's smile grew. "As well you should."
Despite my determination to kill him, I was thrown by the turn we'd taken. "You want me to kill you?" I asked, honestly confused for a moment.
"Heavens, no," Nicodemus said with a slight shake of his head. "It's not yet time for that. No, my work is far from done."
"Your work?" I spat. "You mean killing innocents just to get your jollies?"
"Don't be naive, Harry," Nicodemus said chidingly, a soft frown creasing his forehead. "This was not some vein effort to amuse myself. It was about power."
"Power?"
"Chaos," he replied softly. "Fear. Panic. Desperation." He shrugged. "Progress."
His words were chilling. "Progress," I repeated. "You said that before."
"So I did," Nicodemus said with a nod. "Nor have I lied about my intentions. Not to you."
I took a moment to study his words, to try and understand what he was saying. But all it did was make me feel dirty. "The Knights told me about how you all gain power through strife and suffering," I said with a shake of my head. "You sent the world into a tailspin for personal power, all for nothing."
"Yes and no," Nicodemus said sharply. "The desperation of humanity gives the Fallen a power unlike anything you would believe. But not for nothing. My power has purpose. I have purpose."
"You've got issues is what you've got," I told him honestly.
Nicodemus shook his head. "Mab has twisted you. Made you think her way is the only way."
And suddenly my breaks were on full. "Whoa, what?"
Nicodemus blinked in surprise. We studied each other from across a short distance, both of us clearly thrown by the other's reaction.
He broke first. "Has she really not told you?" he asked in disbelief.
"Told me what?" I asked, taking an unconscious step back.
"She hasn't," he whispered, almost to himself. His eyes narrowed after a moment, as if he were trying to puzzle something out. "I thought for sure she would have told you once you became her Knight."
"Mab doesn't really tell me much," I said. "I wasn't kidding when I said we don't get along."
Nicodemus nodded, his expression still thoughtful. "She knows what she wields. But she is not yet set to use it." His gaze hardened as he once again looked to me. "That is very bad news for you, Harry."
"Everything about her is bad news," I replied, taking another step back. "Same goes for you."
Nicodemus straightened, his eyes playing to the shadows around us. "If she has not yet drawn you in, then I shall not either. To do so… might prompt her to take action."
I took yet another step back, convinced that the ancient demon-possessed man was going mad before my very eyes. "Okay. Let's not talk about that, then."
The man seemed to suddenly realize that he sounded like a raving lunatic. His smile returned. "My apologies, Harry. Sometimes it's difficult to see every piece on the board for what it is, much less when it should be used."
"Think nothing of it," I said, forcing a smile onto my face. "I'm going to start billing you by the hour, though."
Nicodemus smiled at that, until he seemed to think of something. "You're stalling."
"Who, me?" I asked, feigning surprise.
Nicodemus once again looked around, this time more nervously. "You've called the Knights."
"Why would I do that?" I asked in disbelief. "I mean, a freakin' Denarian rang my front doorbell. Why would I think the Knights of the Cross would be interested in that?"
"Very well," Nicodemus said with a tight smile. "Then our time grows short. Let me be quick." The man met my eyes, something I wasn't willing to do in return. "You see me as the enemy. As the worst monster you've known."
"That just about sums it up," I confirmed. "And trust me, I've known some."
"Then let me assure you, you know nothing," Nicodemus said softly. "There are things out there, things trying to tear this world apart, that make me look like a saint."
"Somehow I doubt that," I told him.
"You'd be surprised," he replied quickly. "But no matter. Someday you will know what I know. Someday you will see the threat that looms over not just this world, but all of reality."
The man slowly reached for his pocket. I kept my eyes on him, expecting the worst. But even then I was still surprised when he pulled out a small silver coin.
"Despite everything, I'm still tempted to make you an offer," Nicodemus said quietly. He absently rubbed the coin, its ancient, cracked surface containing markings I couldn't quite make out.
Still, I had a good idea as to what it was. "I told you before—"
"Yes, yes, I know," Nicodemus said with a roll of his eyes. "You've already made your deal with a devil." His gaze fell to the coin, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he did. "Although I believe you'd find this particular devil much more palatable than your current one."
At that, Nicodemus tucked the coin back into his pocket. "Regardless, you cannot consider such a thing while you remain under Mab's control. But when the time comes, I will give you another chance."
"I don't know if I should be flattered or offended," I told him honestly.
"Very few things in this world are simply one thing or another. Why should you?" Nicodemus said with a shrug. Nicodemus gave a slight inclination of his head, before starting off down the sidewalk. "Until next time, Mr. Dresden."
I watched him go, considering whether or not I had a chance of stopping him. He'd almost wiped the floor with me back in the church, and that had been when his shadow had been somewhat limited. Without a Knight of the Cross, or one of their handy glowing Swords, I wasn't sure what I could do against Nicodemus's power.
Especially if the chaos were adding to it.
"Wait, what is this?" I called out to him, while looking down at the box on the ground. It was a travel trunk, the old fashioned kind with leather straps.
Nicodemus stopped to look back. "Oh. That's yours."
I cautiously opened it, bracing myself for an explosion. But as the lid rocked back, I saw that it was filled with my things.
"You kept all of this?" I asked, looking down at everything the Denarians had taken from me. My duster and suit were on the bottom, both wrapped in plastic as if they'd been to the cleaners. Atop them lay my rods, hat, shield bracelet, and my rings.
And most importantly, my mother's amulet.
"Of course," Nicodemus said. "A favor for a friend."
My eyes rose to his. "I'm not your friend."
Nicodemus laughed at that. "I wasn't speaking of you." He nodded at the trunk. "If Little Maggie wanted you to have that, far be it from me to take it away."
The wind blew across my neck, a cold chill to it that made me shiver.
My mother's name was Margaret.
"What do you know of my mother?" I asked breathlessly.
When Nicodemus smiled, it wasn't cruel or lecherous. It was simply gentle, and almost sad. "I have a fond memory or two of her," he said softly. "I respected her. As I do you," he added with a nod. "But as pleasant as this has been, I really must be going. Farewell, Harry."
At that, the demon left. Within strides, he'd disappeared into the shadows of the tree-lined drive, leaving me to stare after him, wondering.
Murphy arrived a few minutes later. I was still standing on the corner, rummaging around in the crate. I'd been careful to run my senses over it and its contents, just in case Nicodemus was trying something subtle. But as far as I could tell, he'd left my things alone. And more importantly, he hadn't slipped a coin into anything.
As her sedan came to a stop, I looked up. She'd arrived like a bat freshly escaped from hell, although her lights and siren were off. She was out the driver's side door in a flash, her eyes swiveling about as she circled around the vehicle. I noticed the sheathed sword she carried.
"Where's Michael?" I asked as she strode up. When I'd seen Nicodemus standing outside, I'd known that he wouldn't stick around for long. But I wasn't about to meet him without any backup. I'd called the Carpenter residence, and hastily left a message for Michael with his eldest. I hadn't waited around for her to deliver it, as I didn't want to risk Nicodemus getting away.
"Out of town," Murphy replied as she came to a stop. She'd relaxed somewhat as she realized we were alone, although she did a double-take at the crate. "Molly called and told me what you said. I got here as quick as I could. I take it I missed him?"
I nodded as my eyes fell to the Sword now resting on her hip. "Taking that up permanently, then?"
The detective glanced down at the hilt bearing a Nail from the Crucifixion. A blush crept across her face. "No, I just…"
"It's fine," I told her, saving her from the embarrassment. "I understand wanting to figure things out. Accepting power, and the responsibility that comes with it, is no easy thing."
Murphy nodded, before gesturing to the crate. "Is this your stuff?"
"Yup."
The woman's eyes narrowed as she studied me. "So Nicodemus came back to town just to return your things?"
"I guess so," I said, nudging the trunk with a boot. I had no intention of using any of it until after it'd received a more thorough inspection.
Murphy gave of a soft grunt at that, crossing her arms in front of her. "That's a little suspicious, isn't it?"
"I guess so," I repeated.
"What else happened?" Murphy asked, looking around as if she expected the Denarian to pop out of a shadow at any moment.
I quickly filled her in, telling her everything but the last bit about my mother. Well, and the fact that he'd all but offered me a coin. No need to worry her about those minor details. Not when we were just beginning to trust one another again.
I wasn't sure what to make of his comment about my mother; for all I knew, Nicodemus was lying. But if he wasn't, I didn't want to bias Murphy against her. Somehow that felt like it'd be unforgivable.
When I finished relaying most of our exchange, Murphy gave me a concerned look. At first I thought she'd realized I'd held something back, but that fear faded when she spoke. "Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?" I asked, confused by her inquiry.
"That it wouldn't matter who Deirdre had captured?"
I couldn't help but sigh. "Murph, let's try and focus on the important things."
"I think that is important," Murphy said softly. Her gaze didn't match her tone.
I shook my head, wishing she'd understand. "Let me ask you something. Why does the government not negotiate with terrorists?"
The question surprised her, as I watched her blink and consider my question. "Because if you concede to their demands, you risk repeat occurrences."
"Exactly," I said with a nod. "If you give them what they want once, they'll try it again and again. So we have to deny them, even when the cost is great."
Murphy blinked again. "Harry, there's a difference between protecting a nation and protecting an innocent bystander."
"Is there?" I asked her with a frown. "I gave the Denarians the Shroud, all to save one life."
"That's different," she argued. "You didn't know—"
"That doesn't matter," I said, waiving her off. "Let's say Father Vincent had actually been Father Vincent. And lets say that we knew what the Denarians planned to do with the Shroud."
Murphy hesitated. I could see her at war with herself, arguing both sides. The cop, who knew perfectly well that sometimes you had to do ugly things to protect the masses from the few. And the woman she was, who would never give up on saving anyone she could help.
"We can't change the past, Harry," she finally said, as if that were what I was concerned about.
"I know that," I told her calmly. "What I'm talking about is the next time. When the next demon or monster comes along, and holds someone hostage, to force me into doing what they want. Or they try and blackmail me into doing something; or worse, into not doing something."
"It's just not that simple," she insisted.
"I think it is," I replied, keeping my voice soft. When she looked up, it was to find me shaking my head. "I don't like it, Murphy. The idea of someone out there dying because I failed to act is horrifying. But the truth of the matter is, there are things out there that don't play by our rules. Don't respect the laws of society.
"Nicodemus held Sía over me to have me retrieve the Shroud," I continued. "Deirdre threatened Charity to make Forthill get Ursiel's coin. Not to mention their trick with Vincent. But if I'd been willing to let him die, how many more would be alive? If the Denarians had never gotten the Shroud, how better off would the world be?" I waived around us. "How do I justify hundreds of deaths, thousands of lives destroyed, millions of people suffering, all to save one?"
Murphy took her time answering. When she finally did, I knew she didn't understand. "I don't know, Harry. All I know is that every life matters. And that I'll always do everything in my power to save them."
I shook my head, unsurprised. "So will I, Murph. But there comes a time when sacrifices have to be made."
Murphy's look was wooden and pale. "Horrible things have been done in the name of the greater good, Harry," she replied softly. "It doesn't change the fact that they're horrible."
"I'm not talking about going out and killing people indiscriminately, Murph," I told her.
"Not yet," she replied with a shake of her head. "But you're getting close."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, letting some heat creep into my voice.
"I mean, I saw what you did to Cassius," she said in a hushed whisper. She wouldn't meet my eyes as she said it.
"I did what was necessary," I replied. "To get the information we needed to save lives."
"I'm not talking about the torture, Harry," Murphy said, looking away. "Although that's pretty bad." She shook her head, as if reliving that moment and not liking the memory. "I'm talking about mutilating him. I'm talking about executing him."
"He was a murderer," I reminded her. "He killed Shiro. He tortured me. He helped Nicodemus unleash this hell on earth," I said, gesturing around us. "And he was a practitioner. One that would have gotten himself free if we'd left him for the authorities. And then he would have hurt more people, whether he found a new coin or not."
"You're not judge, jury and executioner, Harry," she insisted.
I gave her a sad smile. "Maybe not in your world. But when it comes to the supernatural, I have to be." I shook my head. "I'm sorry you don't understand that."
She didn't seem to have anything to say to that. The wind blew between us as we stared at each other, across a distance that seemed greater than it was.
After a while, she shuddered, shaking herself as the early evening grew colder. For once, it wasn't because of me. "I'm supposed to meet up with Charity and the kids for dinner," she finally said. "I don't suppose I could convince you to join us?"
"That's probably the worst idea you've had in a long time," I told her with a genuine smile.
That drew one from her as well. "Yeah. Maybe that was pushing things." She hesitated, before glancing up at me. "Maybe we could get together, then. Just the two of us."
There was a time I would have jumped at that offer. Even if it was just made one friend to another. But I wasn't the same person I'd been.
I refused her in the gentlest way. "I don't think that's a good idea. That'd probably upset your boyfriend."
At that she blanched. "Frank is not my boyfriend."
"Suuure," I said, with a knowing nod and a wink.
Frank had been the lab technician that had helped her smuggle out the samples, blackmailing her for a date in the process. He'd thought he was dealing with just another crooked cop; once he'd found out that Murphy had been trying to stop the terrorist attack, he'd told her not to worry about the date.
She'd gone anyway.
And from what I'd heard, there'd already been a second date.
"He's not," she insisted, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Probably just the cold weather. "And he's not a bad guy. Apparently that was his first time doing anything like that."
"Well you've probably corrupted him," I told her. "Now that he's seen what he'll get for bending the rules, there'll be no stopping him."
Murphy and I shared a smile that slowly faded, as my comment unintentionally reminded us both of my other words, of giving in to blackmail and the like.
As the moment passed, Murphy nodded one last time. "I've gotta go. You know where to reach me?"
I assured her I did. "Have fun at dinner."
Murphy gave me a weak smile before heading for her sedan. I watched her go, and then started the trek back up the driveway alone, dragging the trunk with me.
Maybe a time would come when Murphy and I could be friends again. Maybe one day Michael and I could hang out, and manage to not have a conversation about my eternal soul. Maybe I could even have someone to be close to, someone that I didn't have to worry about being helpless against the forces that might try to hurt her, all to come at me.
Maybe that day would come. But it didn't feel like it'd be there for quite some time.
It wasn't that I wanted to be alone. It wasn't that I was blaming myself, punishing myself, for everything that had happened. There'd already been enough of that already.
No. I was simply preparing myself to live in the world we had created. A world where the lines between black and white were growing ever more gray. A world where perfect solutions weren't always going to present themselves; where sacrifices would have to be made, whether you were ready for them or not.
A world where you didn't just worry about the things in the shadows; you worried about the shadows themselves.
I inspected all of the things Nicodemus had returned, before putting them away. I hung my pendant over my neck, taking comfort in its weight. Then I got to work, preparing myself for whatever came next. Alone, like every wizard I'd known.
Maybe that's why the wizards of lore were always loners, distant from the societies they strived to protect. Because they have to remove themselves from attachments, to do what needed to be done.
Maybe some things just aren't meant to go together. Things like oil and water. Orange juice and toothpaste.
Wizards and loved ones.
But tomorrow was another day.
