December 1069

"You came here to fight a demon," Tim summarized.

I'd given him the Cliff Notes version of why I was here and how we got here. He didn't necessarily need to know all the details, like Lucille's initial ultimatum and all the background on the Denarians and whatnot.

"Essentially," I said, wincing as I massaged my legs.

I'd moved so that my back was pressed up against a wall, and I was currently inspecting and soothing my legs. The ice that had trapped me fortunately hadn't managed to cut anything, and it had all dissolved into ectoplasm anyway, but being pulled out of a solid block of ice had given me a number of sprains and bruises. I wasn't going to be running anywhere any time soon.

So now it was me, two vampires, one mostly naked, and one blissfully conked out naked woman in a bed, all together in a room. In retrospect, the situation read like the start to one of Bob's trashy romance novels.

"And you want my help?" Tim asked.

"Well, that would be a plus," I said. "But there are a few things I need to sort out first. Where is here, exactly?"

"The city of York," he said. "The king decided that we should celebrate Christmas, not fight over it."

"York is how far from Berkhamsted?" Lucille asked, having calmed down most of the way.

"I… am not sure," Tim said. "Two hundred miles, thereabouts?"

"Two hundred miles in a quarter of an hour," Lucille marveled, glancing my way.

"Hold your horses," I said. "Tim…othy, when was the solstice?"

Tim had started to make this faint scowl of annoyance at my use of just Tim, but he seemed to accept the longer, Anglicized version. I'm still going to refer to him as Tim in text though, just for the indirect Monty Python reference.

Wait, no, not indirect. Tim's a vampire. "Tim the Enchanter" is an entirely accurate descriptor.

"Three… yes, three days ago," Tim said. "It's Christmas Eve. Or, I suppose it will be soon, it's not yet evening."

Lucille turned to look at me fully.

"In the Nevernever, time can flow faster or slower depending on where you are," I explained. "Fifteen minutes into two days is one of the more extreme examples of time dilation I've experienced, but we still got here much faster than even a chain of horses at full gallop could've."

"You didn't mention that," Lucille said accusingly.

"I was confident we wouldn't lose time," I replied. "And we didn't." I sighed and tried standing, wincing at the strain on my legs. I was going to have to hobble along on my staff for at least the next hour. "Now, I need to start looking into this demon problem. Where's the king?"

"I am unsure, but in all likelihood he is at York Castle. It's damaged, but it is still the most fortified position in the city. And the people here are still rebellious."

So the city was a powder keg. Even better.

"How do I get there?" I asked.

"It's a fairly short walk south, through the streets. Perhaps a quarter of an hour. You should see the castle right away, it's on a motte on this side of the river."

"Okay. Where are we right now?" I asked. "Am I going to have any problems getting there?"

"Leg pain, perhaps. You'd be going down a hill then up a motte. We're in York Minster right now."

Lucille frowned at that and looked around the room again, staring at the sleeping woman and then at the clothes scattered around the room. "Is that a nun?"

Tim shrugged shamelessly.

It says some interesting things that we went from a brothel in the Nevernever to a room in a church. I'm sure Tim getting his vampire on was a big part of that, but that couldn't have been enough on its own.

"Not my problem," I muttered. Then, louder, I asked, "Have you seen an older man around your height, spindly, short black hair, maybe in priestly robes, calls himself Cerdic?"

Tim shook his head.

"Have you seen anyone else suspicious?" I asked.

"What do you mean by suspicious?"

"Anyone new that seems out of place, maybe spending a lot of time around the king or Robert or other important people," I said.

"Hmm. Well, there may be one," he said. "A woman, tiny, pretty, short-cut blonde hair–"

"Green eyes, dressed either in robes or like a farm girl, won't meet your eyes?" I finished for him.

Tim nodded.

"I know her," I said, sighing in relief. "She's the opposite of suspicious. Anyone else?"

"Not that I can think of," he replied.

"Alright," I said, shaking my legs to get more feeling into them. "I need to go see what I have to work with, what I can convince the king to do. If you end up deciding to help me, then just, I don't know, wait outside the castle."

"What kind of demon are you hunting? One in the shape of a man?" Tim asked.

"One possessing a man, but with the potential to transform," I said. "Have you ever seen a bear?"

He nodded.

"Now double its size, make its teeth as sharp as swords, add curling ram horns that are strong as steel, and enough speed to outrun a horse," I said.

Tim's eyebrows rose with every added quality.

"And as the cherry on top, it can make itself immune to magic."

"And you are hunting this creature," Tim said.

"Yes."

"You are insane," he said.

"So everyone keeps telling me," I muttered.

I managed to cover myself with a crude veil as I walked out of York Minster, which turned out to be a damaged stone cathedral. I didn't pass a lot of people on the way out, and the people I did pass spent more time looking at me shuffling past quick as I could than formulating responses and questions. Then I came out the front door of the cathedral, saw the sprawling expanse of York and the damaged edifice of York Castle past it, and looked down at the hills and roads I'd have to traverse.

"I don't get paid nearly enough for this," I grumbled as I slung off my rucksack and dug out my painkiller potion. I knew techniques to block out pain, Lash had taught them to me, but using those was dangerous. It didn't eliminate pain or strain, it just shunted them aside, and since pain was a sign that something was wrong, ignoring pain wasn't always a good idea. The painkiller was a decent compromise there; enough to take the edge off, not enough to block out the nerve signals entirely.

I noticed a definite and interesting tension in the air as I started walking towards York Castle. The streets were decked out for the holidays, wreaths and garlands of holly, mistletoe, ivy, and other kinds of foliage hung off sign posts, door frames, windows. There was a sense of festivity, of impending celebration. But under that I could see an undercurrent of wariness. People were tense, throwing unhappy glances at the castle I was heading to. The streets weren't very full, and I occasionally came across small patrols that drew glares when the townsfolk thought the soldiers weren't looking. Kill an unpopular king in a rebellious territory on the eve of the longest and debatably holiest holiday of the year?

Nicodemus himself couldn't have picked a better time and place.

We'd arrived sometime around noon, judging by the position of the sun, which hopefully gave me at least six hours before Ursiel would strike – assuming he was in York, of course. Between Helga, maybe Malfoy, and even more maybe the vampires, we just could stand a chance, if we approached the problem intelligently.

If.

Getting to the base of York Castle or motte or whatever didn't take long. I wasn't stopped by anyone, and the roads were fairly sensibly laid out. Now, getting inside, that was a different matter. Maybe I should have brought Tim.

Now, I could have just used the blending potion to slip past them, but I didn't want to use that for something so simple. I was hoping to save it for Ursiel, or rather Cerdic. But that meant I needed to somehow talk my way past the guards at the front gate.

That was going to be fun.

I started the climb up the steep motte, wincing all the way. The guards noticed my approach, but since I was seemingly unarmed, moving slowly, and not making any threatening motions, they just watched me. Fortunately they looked Norman, so this next part would hopefully be easier.

"Excuse me, good men," I said, deciding to lay it on thick. "Is Robert, Count of Mortain inside?"

The two guards glanced at each other, before one of them answered, "What business is it of yours?"

"I have a message of great importance I need to deliver to him, in person," I said.

"Do you now?" the guard asked.

"Yes. Please, good men, could you just let him know I wish to speak with him?" I asked.

The guard who was speaking looked at the guard that wasn't, and the second guard sighed. "What's your name?" the second one asked.

"Harry Dresden."

"Wait here," he said.

I nodded and leaned on my staff as the guard went inside the gate and disappeared into the castle. The other guard didn't look like the type for small talk, so we just stood there in silence. About five minutes later, the second guard came back out and walked up to me. "The Count will see you. Follow me."

"Thank you," I said, beginning to hobble after him.

York Castle was smaller than Berkhamsted Castle. Judging by the way it was made of wood, it had been set up as a somewhat emergency measure to secure territory. Judging by the way it was damaged, that hadn't worked out so well.

It took us two minutes of walking through wooden halls before we came to a thick wooden door. The guard stopped, knocked on the door, and waited for a voice that sounded like William's to yell, "Enter!"

I opened the door and hobbled inside, taking a quick count of the occupants. There was William, Robert, Malfoy, and Helga, all sat around a long rectangular table. All of them looked surprised to see me.

"Hello," I said. Then I hobbled over to the nearest chair and sat down with a sigh of relief. The guard closed the door after me, and then we were alone.

It took a few moments for Helga to break the silence. In English. "Harry, I thought you were dead."

"Why, because I didn't reply to whatever reply you sent back?" I asked.

"Yes!" she cried. "You sent me a scrawled rambling letter about a demon coming to kill the king and said what to do in the event of your death, and that was it! That was the last I heard of you."

"Yeah, well, I was busy getting here in a hurry," I said. "Nice to know you care though."

Helga sighed.

"How did you get here, if I may ask?" William asked, in a tone that suggested not answering wasn't an option. Also in English, for reference.

I glanced at Helga and Malfoy. "Did you tell him about the Ways?"

Both Helga and Malfoy looked at me as if I was insane. Oh well. That feeling was going around anyway.

"In short, your highness, there is a realm of Faerie adjacent to this world," I said, shuffling and shifting around in my seat. "Traveling through it is highly dangerous, and not something to be done lightly, but if you know the right paths, you can travel long distances in short amounts of time. Assuming you don't die in the process, that is, as I nearly did."

There. A passable public explanation of the Ways that didn't put any ideas into William's head about marching an army through the Ways and getting them all killed by irate fae.

"And you traveled here to warn me of an assassination attempt by a demon," William said slowly. He sounded skeptical, but not heavily so; evidently Malfoy must have explained that demons were very real and it wasn't inconceivable that one might be sent against him. Well, him or Helga.

"Yes."

"Harry, why?" Helga asked. "One magic resistant demon isn't worth… this! Between all of us," she waved at the rest of the table, "we can handle it."

I stared at her and blinked. "You read my letter, yes?" I asked slowly.

"Yes."

"Did you miss the part where I said it was a Fallen?" I asked.

Helga glanced at Malfoy, who shrugged. "Yes, a demon. I discussed it with Armaund, that was our conclusion."

I sighed, put an elbow on the table, and pinched the bridge of my nose. "This is what I was afraid of," I said, my eyes closed. "You not getting it." I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and raised my head. "I was not exaggerating, misattributing, or miscategorizing, Helga. I meant exactly what I wrote. There is a literally God-damned Fallen Angel coming to kill the king."

For a few seconds, there was absolute silence. Then, Malfoy scoffed. "Now I know you've gone insane. The Fallen are trapped in Hell. To summon them into this world while loosening even a small portion of their bindings would require the synchronized sacrifice of thousands of people."

I leaned my staff against the table and crossed my arms as I tried to figure out how to make Malfoy see reason, how to get the danger across without going into detail about what the Denarians were, how they came about. Because to be honest, I didn't trust Malfoy and William to know about the Coins, about how the Fallen worked. William had started a war just to get a crown. What would he do to get the power promised by a Coin? And even if I did go into all that detail, I still didn't have any firm proof at hand.

Fine. I didn't really need Malfoy, when it came down to it. An extra, average wizard with little real combat experience wasn't going to make a difference when it came to Ursiel. He could be more useful as an emergency last line of defense-slash-evacuation.

"Disregard me, then," I said with a shrug. "But when the massive demonic bear breaks into this castle and starts killing everyone inside, don't waste time trying to put it down. Just grab the king and run." With that said, I ignored him and turned to Helga. "What was your plan?"

"To fortify the castle and set up detection wards that would alert us when something spiritual tried to enter," she replied.

"Basic, but not nearly enough," I said. "In bear form he'll shrug off any direct magical assault. And dropping the roof in on him probably isn't going to kill him." I leaned back and started tapping my foot. "Warding the entire castle would take too long. Fortifying a single room is more feasible, but then Ursiel will just slaughter everyone else and set fire to the castle before moving onto the army and the town."

"Then what would you suggest?" William asked.

I sighed. "Somehow, we need to find the Fallen's host, Cerdic, before he transforms. Then…" I took a deep breath. "Then we'll need to kill him."

I know that's not how the Knights do it. The Knights prefer to try and redeem the Denarians, give them an opportunity for redemption. And if I had more reliable allies, more firepower, I would have tried to do that for Cerdic. But I didn't. The only viable option I could see that didn't risk things spiraling horribly out of control was to sucker punch Cerdic before Ursiel came out.

And if everything played out that way, there would be no proof of the Fallen. No proof of Ursiel. Malfoy would still think I was insane. William might buy into that. And I would've risked my sanity and freedom and pissed off Mab's right-hand woman for no tangible reward or recognition.

My life in a nutshell.

"Do you believe him?" William asked his brother in French.

"It was difficult for me to follow the conversation," Robert replied. "But there was mention of a Fallen Angel of God coming to kill you?"

William nodded.

"I do not know if Harry is correct," Robert said. "But he has never struck me as one to exaggerate. Whatever the truth may be, I believe that he genuinely believes you to be in grave danger."

"And his proposal to kill a man on his say-so?"

"More problematic, but it is not as if assassins are given much grace," Robert said before turning to look at me. "How did you learn of this demon?"

"John heard about it through other members of the Church, and came to me to see if I could help," I said.

"And John believes this to be a serious matter?" Robert asked.

I nodded.

"Then that is enough for me."

"You would take him just at his word?" William asked, faintly surprised.

"John is a wise and learned man, and it will be simple enough to check if Harry is telling the truth once I return to Berkhamsted," Robert said. "And I do not see what Harry could gain from telling an elaborate lie just to try and kill a man. If it was not warranted I don't imagine he would come to us and spin this tale in the first place."

"Hmm." William turned to look at Malfoy. "Your thoughts?"

"If the madman wants to hunt a demon then let him," Malfoy said, exasperated. "Perhaps he'll die and we'll be spared of his lunacy. And if there is no demon then there is no threat."

Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence there. Just completely ignore the seriousness of the situation.

I took a few deep breaths and bit down on my next few responses. This... this wasn't productive anymore. I had to leave before I did something stupid.

"Great. Glad we've got that sorted," I said, getting up from my chair and grabbing my staff. "Are you coming, Helga?"

Helga looked between me, William, and Malfoy. William beat her to the punch.

"I did not say you could go."

I took a deep breath, looked at William, and fought down my first and immediate response. "With all due respect," a phrase that in my experience has never involved any respect at all, "I am not going to sit here and watch people die because you refuse to believe me." Then, before I could lose my temper, I just turned and walked out of the room.

What a goddamn waste of time that was.

As I started walking down the halls back out of the castle, I heard the fast paced plodding of boots on wood that signified someone short was coming after me. "Harry!"

I turned at Helga's hiss and I turned to look at her. She stopped short a few feet away from me, whatever expression I had on my face giving me pause.

"Helga, either go back in there and smooth things over, or come with me and help. I don't have the time or the energy to argue, not after the trip I just finished," I said. Then I started walking away again. "Should've just dealt with Cerdic directly and not bothered with any of this."

I heard Helga sigh and grab my hand. "Harry," she said in a calmer tone. I turned to look at her. "There's an inn in town, this side of the Ouse. The Drunken Hog."

I snorted faintly and Helga narrowed her eyes at me. "I sent messages to Rowena and Salazar once I got yours, telling them to meet there. I don't know if Salazar has arrived yet, but Rowena's there. Go find her, start figuring things out. Once I'm finished here I'll come join you."

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

"How bad is it?" she asked in a quieter voice. "Really?"

"If Ursiel transforms, we're probably all going to die," I replied. "And I would really prefer that not happen."

And that assumed that Ursiel was alone. Last time I'd seen Ursiel it had taken three Knights of the Cross to put him down, including one that made Nicodemus wary. If there were more Denarians around, and no Knights? Then there was no probably about it.

When I made it back down the motte and got back into the city proper, I found two familiar, fully-dressed figures waiting for me.

"Timothy. Lucille," I said. "What have you decided?"

"You believe there is a demon coming to kill the king and the earl, yes?" Tim asked.

"And every Norman it can get its paws on, start a massive rebellion off with a bloody slaughter," I said.

"Well, as one sworn to a Norman, I can't be having that," he said. "I assume you have a plan that doesn't involve fighting a massive bear with a sword, however?"

"The start of one."

He nodded. "What do I get if I fight the bear, incidentally?"

"The satisfaction of killing a demon and being a hero," I said.

"The satisfaction of being a hero usually includes such things as fame, riches, and women," Tim noted.

"I can't offer any of that. And I doubt anyone will believe you about the demon part anyway."

"Shame."

"Yeah. Playing hero sucks," I said. "Do you know where to find an inn called the Drunken Hog? It's supposed to be on this side of the Ouse, which I assume is the river that runs through town."

"That it is," Tim confirmed. "And as it so happens, I do."