Who she is now
Raith Manor had an extensive basement spread out across several different rooms. I sat in a chair looking through files in a small box we kept locked in an antique safe. Some things you just didn't want hackers getting access to.
If someone wanted these documents, they'd have to break in and steal them, a formidable task, but not as formidable as I wanted.
Memories of that fucking naaglioshii tearing apart my home still made my blood boil. It was the reason I was working with that outrageously expensive sorcerer to increase our home's defenses. Though I'd had to spend a considerable fortune to hire them.
Arrogant prick, they are. But they get the job done, I thought, getting back to my folders. The one I wanted was in here somewhere.
I heard beeping on the keypad outside, and the large steel door slowly swung inward. Even for a member of my family, it took a little strength to get momentum going.
Without turning around, I knew Elisa had entered the room. She wasn't wearing much more than a thin mesh robe, which was a tad more than usual. She wandered over and sat at the table next to me, eyeing the folders.
"Late night analytics?" she asked.
I shook my head. She blew her dark bangs up from covering her eyes and looked closer at the paperwork I was sorting through, various reports from scouts in the field about Black Court movement.
My sister raised an eyebrow as I finally found what I was looking for, the few pages of notes we had on Drakul. I licked a couple of fingers and started looking between the reports, notes, and memos collected through the centuries and typed up by an analyst who died a few months ago of mysterious causes.
Admittedly, it wasn't much. But it was more than Harry had, and I suspected he'd appreciate the knowledge contained on these pages.
"What the fuck are you doing with those?" Elisa asked.
"Why do you care?" I asked, meeting her gaze.
My sister raised an eyebrow and said, "Those are some of our family's most valuable pieces of information. Are you planning on using them?"
Shaking my head, I stood up and put the other papers back. I placed everything back the way it was and reactivated our security measures.
"Did Mab ask you to hand over these documents?" Elisa asked as if that was the one explanation that made sense in the world. And I anticipated when I revealed their destination, she'd have a real problem with it.
"I'm taking them to Harry," I said.
The surprise that rattled across her face revealed just how much trouble I'd face in the next moments.
"Why, Lara? What possible reason could you have to share that information with him?"
"He asked for them," I said, matter of fact, and turned to go. I was trying to end this conversation because I had more pressing issues to handle at the moment.
There was nothing but a gust of wind to alert me Elisa had made a move toward me. My sister snatched the papers and reappeared by the door with them in hand. I wasn't sure if I let her take them to find a diplomatic approach to our conflict, or she was that much faster than me.
"Lara, we need to talk," Elisa said.
I crossed my arms and sighed. The demon inside of me was screaming about how I'd let Elisa get the drop on me like that. Nobody took something from Lara Raith's hands without losing something in return, it hissed.
"Speak your peace, but make it quick, sister," I said, scowling and trying to keep a lid on my agitation.
To her credit, Elisa did choose her next words carefully.
"Sister, I know you've used Harry as a pawn before to great success. I know you think him a great weapon to unleash when the time is right. But this feels different. You've been engaged to this man for a week, and you're just handing over our secrets?"
"What makes you think I'm not about to unleash my fiance again, Elisa? Drakul's elimination would be advantageous to our entire court," I said.
She eyed me warily before sighing. My sister didn't want to speak whatever her next words were.
"You're different this time, Lara. You don't seem yourself handing these over freely. The sister I know would never do this without a massive favor in return," Elisa said.
And then in a lower voice, Elisa said, "It looks like you're going soft."
This time I gave into my demon's inner voice and bolted across the room before Elisa could react. I slammed her into the wall so hard it cracked, and she coughed, the air forced out of her. But I knew she was made of sterner stuff. She was a Raith. Being rattled was fine.
She raised her arm to push me away, but I pinned it down and placed my other hand around her throat. Then I squeezed, gradually. I wasn't trying to kill her, just remind Elisa of her place.
"How about now, dear sister? Do I seem soft?" I whispered, and she started to sweat.
Elisa struggled to free herself as I gradually cut off her air supply. She knew I wasn't going to kill her, but I could drive her right up to that line.
"Now you look like Lara Raith," she choked out.
I still wouldn't let her raise her arm.
"Tell me what color my eyes are, Elisa."
She looked me over and said, "They're a haunting and pale silver, sister. It matches your skin, which is also rapidly paling."
Applying a little more pressure until her eyes bulged out a little, I scowled and said, "I am Lara Raith, and I lead this family, dear sister. So next time you think of accusing me of going soft, I invite you to remember this moment where I held your life in my hands."
Elisa did nothing but squirm and nod. I saw her consciousness starting to fade, and still, I held her there, tightening my grip. The demon inside was pleased for the first time in days, but I wasn't. This was a waste of time and energy. I hated having to project this level of strength. Wait, was that right? Was I tired of projecting my strength?
I did my best to hide the inner conflict from Elisa, and as her head finally nodded over, and consciousness fled her presence, I released my sister.
Of course, I caught her before she struck the floor. And I carried her over to the chairs we'd previously sat in. Placing her in the chair with her head slumped over on the table, I grabbed the spilled notes and headed up to my room.
Inside, I found Emil had cleaned up the remnants of my mirror and dragged up a replacement. This one had a thicker iron base and was at least a few decades older than the one I'd smashed.
I tucked the papers under my pillow and sat on my mattress for a moment, just looking at the wall. And at last, I started to ponder Elisa's accusation.
"Am I going soft?" I whispered, and without warning, my room was plunged into a frigid temperature. The cold was nothing to Raiths. We much preferred a chilled environment. But this made even me tense up.
Before I could turn to see my visitor, I heard her voice. It carried all the authority of the Winter Court and all the enormity such a presence demanded.
"If you are going soft, then our alliance might not be as useful to me as previously indicated," Queen Mab said, taking a few steps away from my windows.
I turned and looked at a more human-looking winter queen. She was masking quite a bit of her powers and presence. This was an unannounced visit, which meant it was to be kept off the books.
Mab stood before me wearing a sleek purple gown and matching boots, cold radiating from her presence. My windows didn't just fog over. They iced up completely.
"Queen Mab, what is this about?" I asked, standing.
The ruler of Winter walked over to me, purpose in every step, and said, "It's about your marriage. You and my knight have had a full week together, and you've not made any public appearances. That was the agreement, was it not? One year for my knight to grieve, and in exchange you two make appearances."
My chest tightened, and at this moment, Harry was the absolute last subject I wanted to discuss. Somehow it seemed our awkward stumble out of the gate had offended the queen. And that was not a place I wanted to be trapped in.
"My apologies, Queen Mab. My fiance and I have been meeting to. . . figure out how this relationship will work," I said, my brain madly burning to find words that would keep this sudden slight from escalating.
Queen Mab raised an eyebrow at me. Her mulberry lips accompanied a scowl that was both curious and disappointed. I looked for any sign of understanding in her cat-like eyes and found nothing but the building winter storm.
"Lady Raith, it's unlike you to have become so inefficient over trivial details," the queen said. "I care not for your relationship with my knight. What I'm here to correct is the relationship's appearance. What other accorded nations see in the relationship is more important to me than what's actually in it."
Her tone sent a shiver down each lumbar in my back. And I knew immediately what she demanded, acknowledgment of the error committed by Harry and myself, and my word that it would immediately be corrected.
I imagined she had a choice between visiting me and visiting Harry to resolve this image problem. And she chose me because she probably wasn't in the mood for her knight's legendary backtalk.
Now the queen, who stood over six feet tall, looked down at me, waiting for the answer I'd come to.
"You're correct, Queen Mab. We made a bargain, you set terms, and they haven't been upheld. I will speak with my fiance immediately and rope him into an appearance as fast as possible," I said, trying not to think about how difficult it'd be to drag that blockhead to any sort of gala or party. The only thing Harry did quickly was set buildings on fire.
This seemed to satisfy the ruler of Winter, but she wasn't done yet.
"I'll save you the trouble. My sister is throwing a sunrise celebration two days from now. My knight will attend as my vassal, and you will be on his arm walking into the Summer Court. Or he'll be on yours. I care not for the minor details of your egos," she said. "There, you'll be announced in front of all the Summer nobles and court members as a couple engaged to wed."
Scanning through my mental calendar, I figured that would work for me. Any worries I had about wrangling Harry and getting him up and looking presentable at sunrise were already cleared by Mab's previous order. If she'd commanded him to attend, he'd be there.
"We'll be there," I said, nodding.
With that business settled, Mab turned to leave.
"Wait— um, I wish to ask you a question if you have an extra moment," I said, clearing my throat and trying not to verbally stumble. All this talk about my fiance had left me on awkward ground, and I needed to settle something here and now.
If both Elisa and Mab had seen a major change in me these last couple days, it needed to be addressed. My house depended on it, especially if our enemies really did see me as going soft.
"Speak," Mab said, and I fumbled for words, wanting desperately to kick myself. My face burned, but I took a deep breath and tried to cover any embarrassment.
"It's about your knight," I said, trying to verbally distance him from me so I could think a little more clearly.
Once more the queen raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever nonsense I would seek from her trove of knowledge.
"Do you ever regret allowing Harry Dresden into your employ and trusting him to accomplish your goals?" I asked.
The queen's expression sank into a cold neutrality while she thought on my question and its implications.
"Let me tell you what you already know, Lady Raith. My knight can be a useful tool. Occasionally I point him at a problem, and he makes it disappear. His biggest flaws are he's not easily contained, and his mortal stubbornness and pride make him slower to react to commands than I prefer," she said. "And he's not exactly a scalpel. He's more like a bonesaw in a mortal operating room."
I could tell that's all she wanted to say on the subject, but it didn't quite answer the question I really needed solved. And part of that was on me for not asking what I really wanted to.
"Do you consider your knight's human morals a detriment or an advantage in your operations? Do you ever ponder on whether his ethics might somehow weaken your position in future conflicts?"
Mab let out a microscopic sigh and shook her head. But then something I could never have anticipated happened. She walked over and sat on my mattress facing me.
"Have a seat, Lady Raith," she said, quietly.
Not wanting to risk invoking her wrath anymore than I might have already, I sat about a foot to her left and waited for her answer.
"My knight's human ethics might be construed as an obstacle by some," she started, not looking at me. "But as frustrating as it is to admit, I find they make him stronger than any knight to have previously served me. There are times when Harry makes me want to freeze him naked in an iceberg and drop him into the deepest depths of Lake Michigan for centuries."
I didn't know if I was supposed to laugh at that, so I kept my expression neutral. I'd already insulted the queen once in the last week. I didn't wish to do it again.
"I trust Harry to do what he considers right, and I make relevant plans based on that outcome. Thus far, he has not failed me. I own his soul outright, but I've seen it's much more efficient to let him think he has his own autonomy and even make small decisions here and there for the sake of his own bravado and ego," the queen said.
All of this was fascinating insight into her mindset, the way the unseelie queen had operated over the last millennium. But she still hadn't answered the question I'd failed to ask. And part of me worried she wouldn't.
"His human wizards having shunned him now, I see my knight increasingly in the company of monsters like us. And I wonder how much longer his human morals will stay intact," she said. "You asked me if his morals might compromise my position in the future, but what I really think you're asking is will they compromise your position."
I held my breath at this point. There was nothing left for me to say.
"Lady Raith, I don't believe trusting Harry has made or will make me weak. I confess that stubborn fool has dragged what shred of humanity I have left from under the Winter Mantle on more than one occasion now. He regularly does the same for the Winter Lady. I expected her humanity to fade in a matter of weeks after the mantle claimed her, but it hasn't come to be. And yet I do not consider myself or Lady Molly weak."
Outside a truck driving by backfired, but we ignored the noise as Mab's eyes locked with my own now.
"Trusting your fiance doesn't make you weak. And the more time you spend around him, the more important it'll become for you to realize a basic truth: You will not be the same person you were before you met Harry ever again. He won't make you human. And you won't make him a monster. But you will influence and change each other. Strong? Weak? That's up to the two of you. So fall in love with my knight, Lady Raith. Or don't. It matters little in my overall design. Either way, you will marry him. And I trust you both will remain useful to my cause," Mab said, standing up, her back facing me.
I still didn't speak a word.
"My advice to you, Lady Raith? Stop worrying about whether you've become weak. Simply decide to be strong, and you will be. It's as simple as that for monsters like us," she said. "I expect you at that sunrise gala, with the future Harry Raith in tow. Or maybe Lara Dresden will show up. You'll figure it out. You know what'll happen if you don't."
Those were Queen Mab's last words before she vanished from my room. I sat there on the bed thinking over her words for a moment. And that moment became a minute. That minute became an hour. Finally, I checked my locks on the windows and doors and went to sleep. I brought a few extra blankets over to the bed and turned up the heater, but Mab's chill remained, as did her words.
And as I slept, I dreamed I was downstairs on the patio eating breakfast and reading the newspaper. A few small details led me to suspect I was dreaming. The weather was changing too quickly, from sunshine to cloudy to overcast and threatening to rain then back to bright morning once more. I also noted I was alone in the manor.
Stopping to listen for noises of any kind, I found myself completely isolated on the compound, which made no sense. This manor never stood empty. There were always guards or my sisters or wait staff, someone.
Gradually I became aware of the fact, something else walked onto the patio. Grabbing my breakfast knife, I turned to face whoever had invaded my dreams with my greatest speed.
I watched as a man in janitor's clothes walked slowly across the patio, not toward me, but the metal railing. The man's belly was as round as the knob on the door behind me. His worn dark skin and curly silver hair gave the appearance he was in his 60s or 70s. But that made no sense because I knew nobody we employed as house staff was above the age of 35.
Whoever the man was, he didn't seem at all interested in me. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a blue and white rubber container. With this other hand, the man pulled a cloth from his front pocket and rubbed it inside the container.
Then the man went to work, polishing the rails around the patio, stopping now and again to dip his rag back in the container before getting back to work.
When he turned toward me, eyeing the railing by my table, I saw a name tag sewn into his coveralls that said, "Jake."
I blinked for a moment, and he went back to polishing the rails.
"Who are you?" I asked, still clenching my knife. There was something about this man that let me know he wasn't mortal. But I couldn't get a bearing on what Jake was.
He waited until he finished polishing the metal right in front of him and then turned to look at me. I saw a short beard covering the lower half of his face.
"Oh, I've got a few different names. You can call me Jake if you want, Lady Raith. For some reason or another, the man you've promised to marry calls me Mr. Sunshine. If neither of those names is preferable, I can give you a few more if you want."
This man knew Harry? Mr. Sunshine did sound like a dopey name my foolhardy fiance would give to someone, probably someone 50 times more powerful than him. Harry was infuriatingly casual that way.
"What are you doing in my dreams, Jake?" I asked, waiting for some other clue about what he was and how much I needed to be on guard.
Again, Jake waited until he'd finished polishing the rail he was working on before answering me.
"I figured I'd be your third guest this evening, Lady Raith. Three is one of my favorite numbers, after all."
When I didn't respond to that, his face changed to a more neutral expression, and he merely said, "We need to talk."