"Bob!" I called down, careful not to trip down the stairs, notepad in hand. My lab was clutter built on more clutter, with the numerous shelves up the walls filled with various spell components and knick knacks, several of which would be considered highly suspicious or even illegal to own by anybody snooping around. In a lead box on one wall was a bit of depleted uranium, and next to that box sat a tiger's scrotum (don't ask). These shelves and substances circled the room around a center island where most of my work was done, and most of the table space was cluttered there as well. In the entire room, only two spots could really be considered uncluttered, and I looked at the first on a shelf on the wall.

A bleached white human skull with various inscriptions and designs etched into the bone sat in front of an open romance novel between two mounds of wax that might have once been considered candles, and several more novels were stacked next to it. The skull's eye sockets flashed to life with an orange glow, and the novel turned a page.

"What're you doing up so early?" the skull I've named Bob asked, feigning disinterest. "Finally ready to discuss all the women you've neglected in your life?"

"Bob. Focus," I said. "I need everything you've got on the new monsters, and I need it now."

"Oooh, what's got your panties in a twist this morning?" Bob asked, but he closed the book with a snap and leered at me. "Human women don't catch your fancy, so-"

"Bob!" I cut him off. "I have an appointment with a monster who wants everything I have on the White Council. What do I need to be prepared with?"

"Huh," Bob said, curious. "The new ones with proto souls, right?"

I marked down "proto souls" on the pad, and said, "Yeah, the ones from Wisconsin."

"Hmm… I've got nothing," Bob said, unconcerned.

"Wh- nothing?" I asked. "Give me something here, Bob. What do you mean, Proto Souls?"

Bob's skull seemed to turn left and right slightly. "I'm running out of novels."

"Two new ones, your choice of author, and if you hurry up and answer me I won't take a claw hammer to your skull and take my chances without you."

"Jeez, boss. Kinda harsh this morning?"

I forced myself to take a breath, then reached for the hammer I'd left sitting nearby for just such an occasion but Bob cut me off with an "alright already!" and continued.

"Proto souls, yeah, made out of magic," he hurried to say, then muttered something about wizards not being morning people. I had to drop the hammer to take more notes, but when he got going it wouldn't take much to drag him back on topic. "From what you've had me researching, it looks like these monsters can't handle a ton of human food or physical altercations, because they're made out of magical, well, dust. It's kind of like ectoplasm from the Nevernever," he clarified, "so when the magic powering it falls apart, so do they.

"Don't think they're pushovers, though," Bob warned. "What they lack in density they make up for it magical ability; if they aren't careful, they can easily bleed off magic and hurt regular people and monsters without meaning to. 'Course, it goes both ways, too. If you do have to fight one, all that hate you're loaded with this morning should be enough to kill a weak monster by accident if you happen to bump into one."

I narrowed my eyes, but let it pass; I'd get my mood handled on my way to the Burger King. "And their souls?" I pressed.

Bob took a moment too long, and I tapped the pen on the paper a few times to hurry him along. Finally, he said, "I don't trust what I know on the subject. Everything that isn't a closely guarded secret is conjecture, and a lot of that contradicts itself. Other than that, I don't know anything useful yet."

I shook my head. "Fine. But they're safe to meet in public?"

"Far as I can tell, yeah," Bob's skull nodded, clattering on the shelf. "Public knowledge says they're scared of another war like the one that trapped them under a mountain in the first place, and most are civilians anyway. Just keep an eye out, alright boss? Asking about the White Council sounds like they've had a run in and I don't have to tell you that could mean really bad news."

No, he didn't. I left my lab and threw the rugs back over it, and took one last look over the mess of my home. Mouse barked, wagging his tail, and took the beer-blanket in his mouth. He quickly dragged it along the ground as he ran to the door and then back to me, the blanket pushing the bottles out of the way so I had a clear path to walk. I smiled despite myself and scratched behind his ears. "Good dog."

With my path clear and Thomas still in the shower, there was little to do here at home. I grabbed my leather duster from the wall beside the door, and took my staff in hand, then opened the steel door and hurried up the stairs to my car.

The Blue Beetle hasn't been just blue in years, but is more a mishmash of different parts from the numerous repairs I've put it through to keep it alive. Mike, my mechanic, is some kind of technical genius and can keep it running through my wizardly troubles nine days out of ten. The hood is grey primer from a run in with a chlorofiend I had last summer, and the doors are all kinds of primary colors. I tossed my wizard's staff into the back seat and sat uncomfortably in the bucket seat I had install after a run in with some mold demons; they ate most of the seats.

It's a long story.

I managed to steal a parking spot in the Burger King's parking lot just after car drove off, and I headed inside, ignoring other motorists cussing at me for taking "their" spot.

Inside, I followed the gazes of most of the room to a table in the back, where a large, fluffy creature wearing a button down hawaiian shirt was sitting. Atop his head, between two short horns, was a golden Burger King crown.

I took a deep breath, smiled, and walked over.

He noticed me immediately and stood up with a smile of his own, standing just a bit taller than my own six and a half foot height. Where I've been told I'm lanky, made of legs and elbows, he's got a Santa Claus figure if Santa lost just a few pounds.

"Dresden?" He asked softly, the same deep voice from the phone. "I am Asgore. It is a pleasure to meet you."

I kept from stumbling, but only just. "You too, Asgore. Harry Dresden, at your service," I introduced myself to the King under the Mountain. "Nice crown."

He chuckled. "I find it nice to step away from my duties and to laugh at myself when I can. Come, sit, I have already ordered your famous Whopper for each of us, and a cup of coffee will be brought for you now that you're here."

Normally I don't care about titles or treating royalty different, but it would have been nice to know I was about to sit down with a King. In the magical world, most of the time you don't get to be a King or Queen just sitting around studying politics. In the Nevernever, a kind of spirit world way bigger than the Earth, you get usually only get a title because you're the strongest of your kind. I hoped that wasn't the case with Fluffy here. Still, he wore a paper crown, and those are just the best.

Speaking of, I saw a second one on the table.

We sat down, my staff leaned against the table, and I wasted no time.

"Who's the second crown for?"

The king looked at it a moment, then admitted, "I wasn't sure a single one would fit my head, but still wished to have one prepared when you arrived, so you would know it was me."

I nodded, then hooked the paper together and put the second crown on as our burgers were brought out. Asgore smiled wider as I put the crown on. I blew on the coffee and drank the whole cup.

"So," I said, unwrapping my Whopper carefully with my good hand. "You wanted information on the White Council? What brought that on?"

His smile faded. "A… an ally of mine has insisted that we learn as much as possible, as quickly as possible. I fear that this White Council may wish to trap us back underground."

I took a bite of my Whopper to cover my swallow. I'd heard rumors from the few people I know with inside information on the Council, and yeah, that actually was one of the plans that got shot down, alongside the crazy one to wipe them out while we still could.

"That's definitely something I could ask around about," I offered between bites. "You just made it sound like you wanted more general information when you called a little bit ago."

He nodded. "Yes, that was why I asked you here. I don't know what I don't know about these new wizards, but I know from before the war that humans do not trust anything that they do not know. I hope to learn about them, and then to teach them about my people in turn. But for now," he insisted, "I must know my people are safe, and for that, I must know what laws the wizards have beyond those of common humans."

"I can understand that," I said, checking my empty coffee cup, then set it down. "You said there was a war?"

"It led to my people's imprisonment underground," he said quietly.

Ah. That war.

"...I'll see what I can prepare," I finally said. "What do you already know?"

"Next to nothing. I barely knew they existed before this morning, and even now I don't know what questions to ask. For your help, I can offer you fifty Gee, and would hope for a report within the next few days."

"What's 'Gee?'" I asked.

Instead of answering me, he took a small, golden coin out of his pocket. He slid it across the table, and I picked it up carefully.

"This is one Gee, my people's currency. Apparently, the exchange rate is highly favorable; with one gram of gold in each coin, and a little more than forty dollars to the gram, I believe I am offering close to two thousand dollars for your help."

Wow. Not bad for a quick report, all told. It wasn't like the White Council had done me any favors over the years, and if all they wanted to know was the basics...

I looked over the coin at my new probable client, then slid it back across the table to him. "Sounds more than fair to me. Half up front, half on completion? And I can list off the laws for you now without going into detail on the White Council's specifics."

Asgore stacked twenty four more of the coins on the table in little sets of five and passed them over. "By all means, list them."

I nodded, glancing around the restaurant for anybody watching me take his money; while people were avoiding looking directly at us, they didn't seem to see the exchange itself. I pocketed the gold.

"Alright, there are seven Laws of Magic, and for now let's just assume they apply to both of us, though they're mostly intended for humans," I said, taking out my pad of paper to write each down as I listed them. "First up, do not kill with magic. Second, don't use magic to change another's shape. Third, do not enter another's mind for any reason. Fourth, don't take over another person's mind, or change it magically. Fifth, do not practice necromancy, or controlling or raising the dead. Sixth, don't mess with time or try to go back in time. Seventh, don't ever try to find out more about outsiders. Ever."

I finished writing out the list, and tore the page off to give to the King. He slowly raised his hand to take it, then read through it a few times, silent. The restaurant's background noise and conversations seemed louder without us talking, and finally Asgore folded the paper and put it into his pocket.

"Thank you very much for this list of laws, Mr. Dresden," he said, and he sounded really subdued to me. "May I ask what the penalty for breaking these laws is?"

I sighed. "Again, these are primarily aimed at other humans, but the White Council usually executes anyone who breaks them," I said, and he gasped. I pressed on. "There are a few ways to get it moved down to a serious parole, but that's really rare. If you know anyone who broke any of these, your best bet is to tell them stop while they still can. The White Council aren't the forgiving type."

"I… I will do so," He said softly, bowing his head. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Dresden." He took another paper out of his pocket, and gave it to me. "My number, for when you can tell us more."

I nodded, then got up and left.

I needed to know more about these monsters.