December 1069

I reached into the pocket that served as my wallet and dug out a silver penny. I looked it over, turning it around in my hand, compared its dimensions to those of the Denarii I'd come across. It wasn't exact, and the composition wasn't the same, but they were similar. Small coins, made of silver, low denomination, carved with a face on one side and a symbol on the other.

"Do you have a room here?" I asked Rowena. "I need somewhere to work."

"I do. It's not very large," she replied.

"It'll have to do," I said. "Where is it?"

"Up the stairs, two doors down, on your left," Rowena said, digging out a key. "What are you going to be doing?"

"Thaumaturgy," I said. "Cerdic has an anchor on him, an item that keeps the demon from fully possessing him." That wasn't really true, but I needed some workable explanation fit for everyone, including the vampires. "I can't track Cerdic, and I can't track the demon, but I can track that anchor. But it's going to need some work."

"Do you need my assistance?" Rowena asked, holding out the key.

I took it. "Not right now. Wait for Timothy, the guy that just left, and Helga to get back. Then come see how I'm progressing."

"And if your idea doesn't work, and this Cerdic isn't at the cathedral?" Rowena asked.

"Then I'll figure out a Plan C," I said.

As I moved to get up, Lucille coughed and pointedly looked at Rowena. I sighed.

"Alright, if you need me to get formal about this. Rowena, Timothy and Lucille are here to help at my request. I don't need you to be friendly or personable, but I do need you to work with them. And not attack and kill them for being vampires."

Rowena looked at Lucille. "Do you agree to do the same in reverse? To work with me and my friends and not attack and kill us?"

Lucille nodded, followed by Rowena a moment later.

"Great. Now I really need to get going," I said.

I went upstairs, followed Rowena's directions, and opened the door on the archetypal medieval inn room: one bed snug against the wall, a small round table with a candle, the floor, a window, and not a whole lot of space. There was also a rucksack on the floor, which I presumed was Rowena's. I sat down on the bed, sighed as my legs finally got to properly relax, and started digging through my rucksack. I pulled out my carving tools, set them down on the bed, put the unlit candle down on the floor, and dragged the table in front of me. Then I set to work.

On its own, an English penny was not a good link to a Denarius. It was too generic, more likely to pick up the hundreds if not thousands of similar coins in the city before the Fallen-possessed one. So I needed to redesign the penny.

I was aware that I didn't have as much time as I would have liked, so I was forced to make minuscule uses of soulfire to cut corners. First, I shaved down the front and back as lightly as I could, removing the prior iconography and detail work. Then I started digging into Lash's memories. I pulled out an image of Ursiel's coin, both sides of it, and started first with the portrait, the one that reflected Ursiel's chosen humanoid form.

I had less than three hours of sunlight, maybe another two hours of twilight, and who knows how many hours until Cerdic and Ursiel decided to strike. Time was running out.

About halfway through my face carving, the door opened to admit Rowena and Helga, who both paused when they saw me taking a carving knife to a penny.

"Harry, why are you marking up a coin?" Helga asked.

"As a ritual focus," I replied absentmindedly.

"Yes, I understand that, but why a coin?" she pressed.

I stopped, pursed my lips, and looked up at them. "Close the door, and come in."

They did so, moving to the far end of the room by the window.

"Have either of you heard of the Order of the Blackened Denarius?" I asked.

Helga shook her head, while Rowena looked up at the ceiling and furrowed her brow. "It sounds… familiar," she said. "I think I've seen it in some texts regarding the history of the White Council. I never looked much further; I just assumed it to be a council of warlocks or some such thing."

"Oh, if only," I said. "That would be so much better than the actual truth." I took a deep breath and went back to my carving. "You know the story of Judas? Got paid thirty silver coins to sell out Christ?"

I saw them both nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Right. Well, I'm not sure whether we're talking about the exact same thirty coins, but around that time, the Prince of Darkness somehow managed to send thirty of the most troublesome Fallen Angels in Hell up to Earth, and bound them to thirty silver coins. Whosoever takes one up gets to call upon their power, in exchange for the Fallen influencing them. Angelic knowledge, hellish connections, a demonic battle form." I glanced up at them. "Like a massive rampaging demon-bear that can become immune to magic. The people the Fallen influence, their hosts, are called Denarians."

"What happens when a Denarian dies?" Rowena asked.

"They die. They're still human underneath. And the Fallen's coin falls out, free for anyone else to pick up. All it needs is a moment of skin contact, and they've got you," I said. "Cerdic isn't possessed, not really. He's entirely human. He can just call on the power of a Fallen. That's why I'm carving up a coin. Specifically, as close a copy of Ursiel's coin as I can manage. Now, did Timothy get back? What did he say?"

"That his… companion has not seen or heard of anyone by Cerdic's description," Rowena said.

"Speaking of which, are those the vampires from Berkhamsted?" Helga asked.

"Yeah. I had to use the sister as a guide through the Nevernever to get to the brother," I replied.

Helga nodded slowly. "Okay. Because that makes sense. Now, there are thirty of these… Denarians, yes?"

"Well, probably not right now. A decent number are probably in the Church's safekeeping, but that doesn't always work out. Case in point, Cerdic. He was one of the people in charge of keeping Ursiel locked down, and now here he is," I said. "But yes, there are a lot of Denarians."

"Do we know that Ursiel is the only one here?" Helga asked. "What if there are more?"

"Then we pray to God he sends a miracle, because otherwise we're fucked," I said bluntly. "Either we all die, or we pull out one of those nice fancy 'sell your soul out for power' deals you just seem to get by being a wizard long enough."

"I… what?" Helga asked.

"It's true," Rowena said. "Just being a wizard attracts offers of patronage and power."

"I haven't gotten any."

"You're young. Just wait."

Helga frowned. "Is that something we'll have to deal with for Hogwarts?"

"Please don't use that name," I groaned. "And stop distracting me. Time is short and I need to get this done."

"Sorry," she said. "Is there any way we can help?"

I paused for a moment. "Start setting up a full ritual circle, but don't close it yet. Are the vampires waiting downstairs?"

"They're eating," Rowena said. My stomach chose that moment to rumble.

"That's a great idea. One I should get to when I have the time," I muttered.

I got back to work, and about a quarter of an hour to half an hour later, got done with Ursiel's face. Then I flipped the coin and started on Ursiel's sigil. That, thankfully, took less time than the face; while it was more intricate than the portrait, there were fewer minute details and more arcs and lines. Still, by the time I was done the sunlight was a solid, ruddy red.

When I was done, I sighed and stretched my legs. Helga gave me a few seconds to recover before asking a relevant, hard-hitting question. "Harry, how do you know what the Fallen's coin looks like?"

I set the replica down on the table in front of me. "Because I knew a guy who used to be a Denarian, until he saw the light and gave up his coin." I rolled my shoulders back and started working some of the kinks out of my back. "He told me a lot about the Order. Plus, I've seen Ursiel's coin once before."

"Won't it recognize you then?" she asked.

"Coin," I emphasized. I didn't feel comfortable lying to Helga and Rowena about this, but there was really no way I could describe the totality of my experience with the Denarians, so I had to fudge. Hard. "So no, it won't." I sighed. "But my knowledge does play in to a part of the plan that you definitely won't like."

Helga and Rowena both gave me a concerned look, one more than the other. In response, I dug further into Lash's memories and winced as the column of soldiers in my head upgraded to a marching band.

"I'm going to need to pretend to be one of them," I said, carefully stepping into the circle. "And that's going to involve me saying a lot of things that sound horrible. What you're going to have to keep in mind is that no matter how convincing I might look and sound, I'll be lying."

"Can you convincingly fake being one?" Rowena asked.

I muttered "Lumen, camerus, factum" and let the image flow out. The bottom of my duster broke apart into smoke that clouded my entire lower half, forming purplish mist that clung and drifted around me in tendrils. And then there was the part I couldn't see but could easily imagine: a second set of eyes, purple and entirely ornamental, opening above my own. I skipped her sigil though; I didn't know if that would draw her attention, and I didn't want to take the risk.

"Yeah, I think I can," I said in a dual-toned voice that was a mix of mine and Lash's.

There wasn't a mirror on hand to check properly, but just from what I could see and hear, the mist and the voice, the partial hologram was good. Perfect, even, definitely better than my normal illusions. It discomfited me, but I knew it would only help when it came to Ursiel.

I let the spell go, and tried to ignore the faintly disturbed looks pointed my way. I got down on my knees, settled down comfortably, closed the circle with an effort of will, and took off my left-hand glove. Then I balled my hand up into a fist around the replica of Ursiel's coin. Lastly, I closed my eyes and pictured a black void, broken up only by a pair of identical leather La-Z-Boy chairs. I sat down in one. Alterna-Harry appeared in the other.

"You know, I'm touched you're finally coming to me for advice, for once, but I'm not sure what you expect me to do," he said.

"I need to convince a Denarian I'm on the level," I said.

"I know that, but I can't help with that. I'm not some separate, distinct part of you that you can call up whenever you want to pull off a Dark Lord impression," he replied. "Though you could start by changing your look to be less scruffy."

I sighed. "Look, do you have any suggestions?"

"Dig into Lash's memories for a way to mortally curse Cerdic before he calls on Ursiel," he offered.

"That would be breaking the First Law," I said.

"And when it comes to the Denarians I think there's some acceptable leeway," he replied.

I took a deep breath. "You know what, no, we don't have time for this. You say you know what I'm thinking and what I want. I'm not arguing about this right now. Do you or do you not have a suggestion regarding how to sell the act?"

Alterna-Harry steepled his fingers together right under his chin. "You're planning to contact Ursiel and set up a meeting. And at that meeting, you need to look convincingly evil and megalomaniacal, enough to make Cerdic think twice about going down the rabbit hole without tipping off Ursiel that you're faking. Or, failing that, to present a plan so horrible to Cerdic but intriguing to Ursiel, and forcing a conflict that way."

I nodded.

"Then just be yourself," he said after a moment. "And interpret what you've done so far in the worst, most nefarious light possible. You remember the realization we had on Demonreach, when the Senior Council showed up with a hit squad of Wardens?"

I slowly nodded. "They were cautious. They didn't see a high-strung wizard at the end of his rope who scraped by on luck, they saw a potential nightmare warlock that had gone up against insane odds and come out on top, repeatedly. One who had the interest of the Winter Queen, had taken out the Heirs of Kemmler, and challenged the entire Senior Council."

Alterna-Harry nodded. "Now go a step further. Here you are, trusted advisor to the King of England's brother. You're connected with a group of powerful wizards and witches, looking to create an institute of learning that will allow you to spread your ideals across generations. A man of the cloth aware of the Denarians came to you for help. You have power and influence in the palm of your hand and are at the cusp of making something revolutionary. If a demon attacks tonight, and you stop it, everyone will trust you.

"You don't need to sell anything. You just need to tell the truth. The glowing eyes will do the rest of the villainizing."

I nodded, and cleared the void. Then I pictured the demonic form of Ursiel in my head.

Mentally, I cried out, "Ursiel, hear me!"

Author's Note: Just imagine Lash sitting on a couch on the other side of the grave, munching on popcorn and reveling in vindication as Harry finally starts taking her advice.