I staggered out of my makeshift cell into the open space of an abandoned warehouse. Rusting machinery and broken crates were piled against the wall, a sort of abstract symbol of my status – a once useful cog now pushed to the side, thoughtlessly thrown away. Light flickered down from large, industrial-sized windows, creating streaks of light that flickered across the open floor. A line of conveyor belts still stood, off to my left. Nothing that seemed to aid in any possible escape I might have to desperately try and improvise.
Of more immediate concern was the delegation of wardens that formed a half circle in the center of the building. As expected, The Merlin stood at the center, catching my eye and returning my furious glare with one utterly devoid of sympathy. I flinched, reflexively unwilling to allow myself to be drawn into a soul gaze. I wouldn't give the bastard that.
Ebenezar McCoy, staring sadly at me with old eyes. Luccio, my soon to be former Captain – her youthful femininity and wavy – girly – brown hair at complete odds with the stony look that she wore like a mask. Inside I cringed – she was also going to be punished for this, for not noticing my treason under her watch. Still, I suppose as far as false accusations go, she was getting off pretty lightly, me being the one about to die and all. Still, the flash in her eyes left me feeling uncomfortably guilty.
Meyers and Carlton were there as well, both radiating a calm anger at my presence. Professionals though, both of them – they allowed none of it to show on their faces. Thankfully, the others from the senior council and a vast majority of the wardens were absent – if I did make an attempt to escape, it was wholly preferable that half the senior council was somewhere else.
So, to sum it up, without my greatest weapons, I was manacled in front of arguably the two most powerful wizards alive, one of whom was a designated assassin for the Council, and until today, I had thought knew me inside and out. I was also surrounded by five wardens, all dressed in identical grey cloaks. God help me, but I was a dead man anyway, what was a little more bluster?
"There are vampires out there, right now dressed up as Wardens killing practitioners." I growled, "Perfect chance to take them down, and you decided to have a go at me instead." Morgan's hand clamped down hard on my shoulder, and he hissed into my ear, demanding my silence. Morgan may be more pigheaded than Murphy on a bad day, but he's strong as an ox and always follows through on his word. Of course, I already knew I was only leaving here feet first, so the threat was less awe-filling than usual.
"Fear not, Denarian" Merlin answered with just a tint of sarcasm, his voice like cold steel. "The White Court has been dealt with, you feeble attempt to force the council to walk into a trap foiled." Well...that's a pleasant last thought, not knowing if my brother and only relation is still among the living. My brother may be a slobbish, self-absorbed, man whore of a vampire, but he's my slobbish, self-absorbed, man whore...in a completely platonic and despite a few incidents around town, heterosexual way.
The Merlin's voice cuts through my thoughts once more. "The Council has found sufficient evidence to convict Harry Dresden, warden of the white council, as a Traitor to the Council and breaker of the Laws of Magic. Both are punishable only by death. The guilty party may now speak."
For a moment, I was tempted to do nothing. Guilty Party my ass. A better part of a decade working with the Chicago Police, and I've had my ear abused more than once with rants about proper procedure. Still, I figured I'd better get my two cents in before Morgan rammed his sword through my intestines.
"Let me guess." I snarked, full of piss and vinegar. "You don't expect me to talk, you expect me to die?" Amazing just how much death can make your balls grow. The entire group was clearly appalled, but I admit the undercurrent of confusion from The Merlin himself made me a bit peevish. Last word's of my life here, think you'd make an effort to pick up the joke! To hell with it, I was a dead man anyway. "As we seem to have skipped the whole innocent until proven guilty bit, I assume my lawyer couldn't quite make it either?" Morgan's hand once more applied a convincing level of pressure, and I shut up. And they say pacifism works...
"If the guilty party is finished," another pointed glare, "we shall move forward. You will remove the glove."
Cold terror shot through me. Irrational and illogical, but a tiny part of me had continued to hope that they had no tangible proof, and maybe, just maybe the wouldn't find it. All bets were off, and I had once more gotten the shitty end of the stick. My arms were unlocked, and Morgan wrenched them forward, locking them once more – though now in front of my body, a slightly more comfortable position. Such comfort was lost the moment Morgan peeled off my glove as I stood there, rigid and helpless. Morgan's eyes widened with shock – seems even the most die hard of followers still take it badly when such a sight becomes open knowledge, even if they've personally never doubted it. As Morgan grasped my shriveled hand and held it aloft, I offered no struggle. I kept my eyes down - I didn't dare look towards Ebenezar – to see his disgust would have been worse than the death that was to come.
Host! Now is the time to flee – all is not lost. Lash's voice rang through my head, soft and desperate, and I felt power Hellfire trickle through my veins. I clamped down on it, banishing Lash from my conscience. I had damned myself, but I'd be damned twice more before I killed people – even these pigheaded bastards – especially for doing the same thing I would have done in their shoes.
Or so I thought. "Harry Dresden is found guilty of betraying the Council, and consorting with a Fallen. The punishment is death by the sword, to be carried out today. Also, Molly Carpenter, apprentice of Harry Dresden, is found guilty of consorting with a Denairan, for deliberate interfering with justice, and accepting aid from a Denarian to escape a prior sentence of death by the sword. The punishment is death by the sword, to be carried out today."
Oh Hell's Bells. Great big hairy...bells. I hadn't expected anything else, but it had festered at the back of my mind, killing me inside a little at a time. Now...It was pushed to the fore, the terrible sight I was forced to witness.
Molly was shackled just as I was, though unlike me her arms remained behind her back. Her legs were also manacled together, just loose enough to allow her to walk forward, though she was stumbling due to the guards' quick pace. At any other time, the combination and what it did to her breasts would have been the stuff Bob, my resident spirit of knowledge and self-described sexmaniac, would trade another century of servitude for.
There was nothing at all pleasant though about what she was forced to endure. Her body shivered, not-so-silent sobs racking her frame. One of her two guards was a pimply faced kid who couldn't be much older than her, and was openly leering at the condemned girl. At least Luccio appeared to have enough integrity to be openly disgusted. Molly's normally pleasant face was covered in a black sack, just as she'd been forced to wear to her first trial. This time though, there would be no last minute reversal of fortunes – no Knight of God or Summer Lady to come to the rescue. Just a gangly wizard who'd fucked up one time too many.
"Ventas Servitas!" I growled, thrusting my hands into Morgan's side as I did so. He slammed backward, flying across the room and crashing awkwardly into a rusty pile of junk. Suddenly, I was pumped. Iwas the Michael Jordan of Wizards. Everything was suddenly moving in slow motion times one hundred. Hell, half the wardens hadn't seemed to recognize what had just happened yet – the sudden shock only just revealing itself on The Merlin's face. Ha, take that you so called know-it-all!
Dearest, now is not the time for gloating. I am prepared to assist you, but we must act now. Ah, right – of course Lash was responsible for this newfound and, to be fair, cool as hell ability. Hell's Bells Lash, way to scare a guy. So what's the plan now – I'm fresh out of ideas, and as you've probably noticed, not really sporting any heavy equipment. Not a big fan of blowing myself to bits... Completely as an afterthought, and what's going on, anyway?
Lash sighed within my head, clearly impatient. Too bad I'm so damned stubborn. I've sped up your mental thought processes. This conversation is taking place within a fraction of a second. But host! Harry! There is not time for this right now, however short it may be. Let me help you, I can assist in maintaining you mental focus long enough that you should remain relatively unharmed.
So...rock and a hard place, huh... and how relative is relatively? Lash didn't respond, though I felt a ripple of pleasure run down my spine that was too good to not be evil. Sneaky bitch, trying to play me like that. Worked though.
"Fuego," I shouted, projecting a confidence that went far beyond optimistic. I felt the liquid heat of Hellfire run through my blood, and this time, I did nothing to hold it back. The air suddenly stank of sulfur, and a great cone of fire roared to life, bursting outwards from my palms.
Even with Lash's assistance, the heat was all but unbearable. The intense prickling of heat brought up painful memories that only added a level of burning terror to my situation. Not long ago, an ancient vampire had discovered my shield bracelet did nothing to protect my body from heat, and had used this weakness against me, all but turning my left hand to ash. It had survived, and thanks to my magic was slowly...painfully slowly, regenerating – but the fear of fire was still something I had to deal with. Now though, wasn't that time.
A thick smoke filled the room, and someone let out a shrill scream - presumably my aim was truer than I had intended – figures. I had no idea who I'd hit, as within my seconds-long window, I had only one goal – get to grasshopper. Without thinking, I ran towards where I had last seen Molly being held captive. I may not be the strongest or most powerful of wizards, but I can move it when I need to. I run a lot, so that when I need to run, I'm faster than the other guy. Combined with my height and skinny frame, I can really gun it when I need to.
In the few seconds it took me to reach Molly, I hauled more ass than a playboy in Vegas.
With all the grace and skill or an epileptic rhino, I plowed into one of her wardens, slamming him into the concrete floor. He let out a weak groan, and a large part of me hoped it was the pimpled asshole who'd been leering earlier. Molly shrieked, and I grabbed her arm a moment before her other guard could move her away. Scrambling back onto my feet, I thrust my foot into the fallen warden's stomach once more for good measure, before yanking Molly hard towards me. For a few frantic seconds we struggled, before I successfully wrestled her away from the other warden. Poor bastard – he may have had a grey cloak, but I'd wager I've been in more less-that-fair fights than he ever had. Lesson the first: Knee to the balls is a great way to make someone let go of whatever they're holding.
Molly's a great kid – heart of gold. I like to think that I would have helped out anyone that had been in her position, but truthfully, I'm not that guy. Chivalrous to a fault perhaps, but I've been under the Council's Doom before, and I wouldn't have gone under it again just for anyone, no matter how disdainful I might be about it verbally. Irony really kicked my in the balls now that it was my actions that had gotten us sentenced to be executed, and not my apprentice's.
But, good as she may be, she's not a first-string fighter. Her manipulation of magic is far more sensitive than mine – a dancer or gymnast to my sumo wrestler. She could do things with magic that I would never be able to, but the quick improvisation and brute force that one needs in battle – she lacked. Worse than day time television lacks talent. To make matters worse, she was currently bound and blinded, and a terrified girl who had now nearly been executed by the same group of old men for the second time in a year.
In case it wasn't clear, she wasn't going to be much help in the here and now unless I did something about it.
Holding her close, I crawled under the relative safety of one of the rusting conveyer belts. "Molly...Molly!" I whispered frantically. I'd first attacked Morgan not even a minute ago, and already my plan was unraveling. The Wardens were blowing the smoke away – not as quickly as the might like within the stagnant confines of the warehouse, but quick enough that I wouldn't have a chance for the doors. "Molly, can you hear me?" I called out, trying to sound soothing. Forcing back a sob, she nodded once, shivering against my body and tightening her hold on my arms. "Grasshopper, I need you to put up a veil. I need a little more time and then we'll be out of here in two shakes. C'mon...this is what we signed up for right? A little adventure."
Apparently, I'm hopeless with women. That was completely the wrong thing to say, if her muffled sobs and sudden cutting off of my air were any indication. Obviously, my gift of gab was less than stellar, so I settled for rubbing her back in soft, hopefully soothing motions. All the time, the increased panic was threatening to take over at the hopelessness of our situation.
Still, one doesn't survive as Harry Dresden without being able to pull a trick or two out of his ass from time to time. Wiggling one arm out of Molly's strangling embrace, I triggered one of the rings on my right hand, aiming randomly at the other side of the building. With a flick, I sent a blast of kinetic energy hurtling across the room, the sound of splintering wood my only way of knowing that I'd blown up a crate or two. Perfect.
Muffled curses came from all around us, but even with this latest distraction, time was perilously close to running out. "Grasshopper. Veil now, and I'll never ask you about your goddamned beads again." At long last, I was rewarded with a tiny giggle, filled with terror but lacking the hysteria that had once rolled off of her in waves. She let me go ever so slightly, taking deep, hushed breaths. She paused, and a moment later I let out a quiet sigh of relief, tension leaving my body as I felt the tingle of magic just as the veil went up. With enough time, the council would realize we'd gone under a veil, and would use measures to counteract it. Still, it bought us a little more time, and a boost of confidence we sorely needed.
By the stars, I wasn't about to go down now! Round one – Harry and Friends!
Well done, my host, came the relieved voice of Lash from inside my head. A little less violent than would have suited my tastes, and tuning hellfire for more smoke and less actual fire, while ingenious, seems distasteful. Right...tuning...of course. And...Hell's Bells, that was less fire than expected? Sorry to disappoint, I snapped back. Lash laughed, rich and joyful, and I felt myself encompassed in a ...pleasing embrace.
Her voice was deep and sensuous. You seem tense, dear host. Is it that you fear death...or perhaps it's been so long since you've felt a woman's touch, and the girl's...proximity...brings forth unwanted thoughts. A pair of arms entwined my waist from behind, moving downward with a tantalizing slowness. I was frustrated, and truthfully scared as hell, angrily shrugging off the nonexistent touch. Middle of a battle here, not exactly an easy way out. Unless you've got a deus-ex-machina up your ass, maybe you can keep quiet for a minute. Inside my own head, I was fuming.
Even before she says anything, I feel her spirit somber. My apologies, my host. I do not wish to offend, nor make light of your situation. Then, she laughs once more before continuing, her voice projecting a confidence and light heart. Harry, precious host – though I am as close to a god as you will ever know... She paused, and I could feel the glee that bubbled inside her, it is you yourself, dearest, who holds the deus-ex-machina you are searching for. Your pocket.
I frowned, confused as to what game Lash was playing now. She's always been friendly and helpful to a fault, though how much is genuine and how much is an act to damn my soul, I've never been sure. Molly hadn't noticed what was going on – all her energies now focused on maintaining the veil and holding her own panic at bay. Curiously, I fumbled through my duster pockets, before I felt a cool, metallic touch.
Hell's. Bells. Deus-ex-machina indeed. Clenched in my fist with a force worthy of the lifesaving device it was, I held the golden oak cluster given to me by Lily, the Summer Lady for my dubious assistance to the Summer Faerie Court. It allowed me to once, and only once, call upon the assistance of said Fae.
"Well" I whispered to myself. "Now would be a really good time to call in a favor." I had never been told exactly how to activate it, but I've worked with Fae – Winter, Summer, and Wylde – enough to know the basic principles on which they operated. Still speaking quietly to avoid detection, I simply said "I ask for safe passage for myself and my apprentice, to my threshold."
The oak leaf felt hot in my hand before suddenly disappearing into thin air. An instant later, a pleasant warmth filled the warehouse. The smoke was all but gone, tiny wisps still floating through the air but doing little to obstruct the view. The new warmth was nothing like the unpleasant heat of Hellfire, and the rancid smell of sulfur was suddenly replaced with the pleasing odor of wildflowers. None of this gave me a fraction of the joy than did the sudden portal in front of me – a tiny rip in the fabric of this world, leading into the Nevernever – home of Demons, Fae, Ghosts, and a host of other supernatural entities. Normally, visiting that place filled me with nervousness and apprehension. Now, I couldn't be happier if the Cubs won the World Series, while the Red Court unanimously decided that I was actually a pretty decent guy and not at all worthy of being murdered.
"Alright grasshopper, here's our stop. Say goodbye to all our friends." Without giving her a moment to respond. I rolled us forward, into the open space between our conveyor belt and the next, and half-leaped-half-stumbled into the Nevernever.
For a moment, I just laid still, enjoying the soft ground in stark contrast to the dirty concrete we had left behind. Slowly, I stood up, brushing off my clothes and helping Molly onto her feet. Our...location, for want of a better word, was for all appearances a private garden. The grass was trimmed, but lush and an almost unnatural shade of green. Flowers and shrubbery grew in a kind of prearranged randomness, a garish collection of hues and color that despite everything, seemed to foster an atmosphere of tranquility. My ears picked up the faint trickle of running water, though I couldn't see its source. To our right, a stone path crossed the open space we had landed in, and as my eyes followed its course, it seemed that this garden expanded far off into the unnaturally clear horizon.
The Nevernever is...a world of it's own, really. It doesn't follow the same rules as ours – science doesn't exist here in any meaningful way, though the two are connected. Every point on Earth touches some point of the Nevernever, though time and space flow independently in each, and its more than likely that two nearby parts back home could be miles apart here. Even within the Nevernever, time seems to slow down or speed up on its own whim. It's confusing, and usually when I visit, I have more pressing emergencies than trying to figure it all out. This garden could very well go on almost endlessly, all while being a half step away from another part of the greater Nevernever. It's enough to make you give up thinking and just go eat a Whopper instead. At least they let me have it my way.
I stood up, stretching my hands over my head when suddenly I stopped, puzzled. Logically, I should have realized earlier, but the urgency of the moment had shut off any rational thoughts not directly linked to escape. Now though, I noticed something I hadn't before – the links connecting the shackles on my arms and legs had been completely seared, a perfect line straight down the middle, the mettalic ends molten together as if by some superfine welding. Lash, I asked, suddenly anxious, that hellfire trick of yours...that did this right? There is nothing at all unusual or unexplained going on.
Lash appeared before me, as if she wanted to examine the severed manacles for herself. It was unnecessary, as her own senses were tied directly to mine, but I was comforted by her seemingly physical presence. Perhaps that's why she did it – wouldn't be the first time she knew my subconscious better than I did. They talked to each other behind my back, literally.
"Dear Host, this is...disturbing, to say the least. It is well within my power – and yours, with my help – to do this, but at the time, we were otherwise occupied. Some other power was at play." She frowned, still studying my manacles. "It would be prudent to discover this unknown entity." She continued, before looking into my eyes, a coy smile gracing her face. I was in no threat of a soul gaze – even had she been real, you can only soul gaze if you in fact possess a soul, which I would do well to remember that Lash did not. Still, the unearthly beauty on top of this powerful creature's sudden unease...it doesn't do much for a guy's comfort level. I looked away.
"Right" I mumbled aloud, earning a look from Molly. "We'll figure this out later." Shaking my head clear of Lash's musings, I turned once more to my apprentice, and in a voice filled with a wizardly confidence, continued. "Next stop, Chicago. C'mon kid, time's a wastin'." She nodded, still not uttering a word, before looking helplessly at her manacles. Shit.
"Right." I said slowly, my sudden burst of enthusiastic forwardness giving way to a slight embarrassment. "What I'm about to do, you will never, ever – under any circumstances, no matter how terrible – talk about. With anyone. At anytime. Are we clear?"
Without my blasting rod or staff, even with Lash's help I wouldn't dare try to break her chains. Hell, even with them, I'd have to be a lot dumber to do it in any situation that wasn't out-and-out dire. Really, I was only left with once choice...though I doubt Charity would have seen it that way.
Finally Molly nodded, hesitantly. I stepped forward, and then with a burst of speed, picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, ignoring her indignant squeak and her furiously wiggling bum now scant inches from my face. Staring firmly forward , I began to walk with long, purposeful strides. I wasn't perfect...and Bob would kill me if I didn't sneak a quick peek every now and then. Besides, I lived with Lash full-time, I was perfectly capable of resisting temptation. Really.