The third time I passed through the same grassy clearing with the invisible water source, I was more than a little annoyed. Molly had stopped her thrashing, the previous fear waning down and slowly being replaced with a sort of sullen embarrassment. She's not a big girl, but she sure as hell wasn't what one would call petite. Carrying her for the better part of a half hour over my shoulder was quickly becoming an unbearable task, and more and more likely pointless, as with my sluggish speed and constant inability to apparently walk in a straight line, we'd be better off with her stumbling along with me. With a frustrated sigh, I dropped her onto the ground, falling down next to her.

"Harry..." Molly's shy whisper brought me out of my private rant. "I think we've passed this spot before."

"Grasshopper, I knew there's a reason I keep you around," I snarked, though without any bite whatsoever. "Who the hell knows where we are, by the time we get out of here..." I cut myself off, no need to remind the girl who'd just escaped death that if we wasted any more time, my house might very well be crawling with Wardens. By the look of fear that swept over her face, she'd gotten it anyway. Good going, Dresden. Why not use the time to point out she's not going to be able to see her home for the foreseeable future?

"Dammit!" I ranted, eager to vent my frustration anywhere but at myself. "The agreement was to get me home, not play hide-and-seek with the funny wizards!"

A chuckle came from behind, an odd mix of amusement and nervousness. "Fix", I replied deadpan, turning slowly. "Good of you to show up."

"Hey...easy now Harry, you know I'd never screw with you." As I continued to remain silent, pinning him with a wizardly stare, he began to look uneasy, shifting ever so slightly. "Well, not intentionally, anyway."

After a moment, I nodded. I had first met Fix a few years back, when he'd been a skinny kid always looking like he wanted to be as far away from the action as possible. His heart turned out to be made of stronger stuff, and he'd pulled his weight in a battle to save his friend, a changeling named Lily, from certain death when the Faerie courts went to war. Said friend had gone on to become the Summer Lady, not least because I'd helped to slay the former. She in turn, had seen the man behind the kid and made him the Summer Knight.

Fix had changed since then – the mantle of Knighthood had made him more confident, and he'd bulked up a bit – though he'd never be described as anything more than slender. He wasn't...handsome, but he carried himself with a new dignity and for want of a better word, power. Still, despite or odd friendship, he was bound to his court, and that didn't always play in my favor.

"So", I said finally "You're the one who got me out of there. I suppose I owe you a thank you, even if it took you a while to catch up." He nodded, giving me a flashing smile as the tension dropped from the air around us.

"It's really Lily who pulled the strings, but I'll pass on the sentiment," he said, before continuing – obviously trying hard to keep the cool mask of confidence in place. It's funny really, just how much I seem to flummox the poor kid. "Thing is though, certain...folks in Summer aren't to pleased with you, and there's already talk that saving your life back there went beyond the debt owed and signified in the medallion."

I paused, utterly gobsmacked. I've always known that dealing with Faerie is more often than not a lose-lose situation, but this...this was a bit much. "You're kidding, right?" I asked, getting more than a little pissed off. "In case you forgot, I led a raid on Arctis Tor. Winter's stronghold, forced her armies to retreat from your border...any of this ringing any bells?" Ok, I hadn't done it exactly like that, but that was the end result.

"Hey man, I didn't say I was one of them...just that some people are saying it. You know me Harry, you're number one fan." I snorted, taking a distinct pleasure in his awkwardness. "And Lily...she's not forgotten what you did for her, she's not like that. But...anyway, she had me watching you since your capture, see if there was anything I might be able to do. The medallion gave me the excuse I needed."

"Well," I responded, faking a level of enthusiasm I normally reserve for difficult clients. "That's just dandy. Let's throw in say...the half hour of my time you've wasted and call it even. IKinda a wanted man here – not a lot of time for a chat."

Fix laughed, again – a disconcerting sound. "This is my own private...place, I guess. Came with the Knighthood. The river of time is almost stagnant here – reduced to a trickle you can just barely hear. Let's a guy...have a place to relax for a bit even while on the job, so to speak."

"You know Fix," I drawled, far to annoyed to pass up the opportunity. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think you're really my type." And then as an afterthought, "and she," I continued, pointing to Molly, "better not be yours either." The satisfaction of watching the pair of them turn bright red was almost enough to relieve the complete nightmare of the day...almost.

"So, why don't we cut the bullshit, and you tell me what's really going on. I've got too much crap on my plate to play games today."

Fix paused, for a moment showing a flicker of the cool detachment to simple moral life and death that seems characteristic of both Knights I've met. A moment later, he nodded, though I decided to keep my mouth shut – no need to sustain further injury for having a big mouth.

"Alright Harry, no problem...no problem at all. Basically, it's all a little complicated, but Lily was able to justify 'moving you whimsically from one place to another, a tiny favor in exchange for your aid to Summer' because you're the closest thing we have to an ally in the winter camp, and you might be...willing to help if our little favor happened to also save your life." He finished in one breath, and continued without giving me time to say a few choice words about what Lily could do with her so-called favors.

"I know Harry, believe me, I realize it sucks. But we can talk about it, get it all under the bridge. Like I tried to say before...before you uh...well, time doesn't really move here – we'll have you back home just minutes after you crossed over. And hey, it's all technicalities right? You promise that you'll help us out when we need you, and I'll make sure that nobody finds out that I kinda reversed the order of the paperwork..."

He cut himself off...no doubt the fury that was threatening to burst from within me had something to do with it. "I like to think I'll help you because you're my friend, and not because I've been suckered into a bargain," I hissed with a cold fury reminiscent of the other court. And speaking of which, "And secondly, I'm not like you Fix – I've refused the Winter Knighthood, and any other influence in Winter. I'm my own man." Again, true enough...for the most part.

Fix hesitated, before giving me another shaky smile. "Of course Harry, didn't mean it that way...just that you know people over there, and they don't want you dead...and like you said, we're friends. We know you wouldn't just leave us hanging in a pinch. And anyway, I'm taking you to your threshold, not through it – it's not as if I'm taking you somewhere particularly safe...and hey, what are friends for?"

I tuned out his rambling, turning instead to Molly. "Alright kid, looks like we're done here. Let's get going." Molly nodded, taking my hand as she struggled to get up around her manacles.

"Hey, let me get those." Before I could utter a word, Fix crossed the distance, cutting both sets of chains with an expert's precision. Molly squeaked, but all in all held herself together in the face of a stranger swinging a big ass sword in front of her. Good kid.

"Thanks," I sighed, "Appreciate it, but I'd rather get back home – got a few things to do before I've gotta hit the road again." Fix nodded, moving forward before stopping for a second and almost meeting my eyes. It was the closest we could get without starting a soul gaze – something I think both of us didn't want to consider then and there. "We're cool, right? I mean... if hypothetically the Summer Court was to have offended you earlier, you aren't offended anymore."

I grinned, tiredly but truthfully. Despite everything, Fix was still the same gawky kid with what I liked to imagine was a bit of a hero-complex towards me. A little respect...just a little bit. But underneath it, he was giving us both a way out, and I took it. "Yeh," I responded, "I hold no grudge against Summer."

Fix's face lightened up like a kid at Christmas. "Right then, friends it is...now let's get you home."

With a newfound determination, we began walking down the stone path once more. Still, patience only goes so far, and if I had to pass this place on more time, Fix and I were gonna have words...

Fortunately, for Fix, it never came to that. The garden that went on forever ended about five minutes down the suddenly linear path. The scenery itself changed very little – we were still obviously in the Summer held territory in Faerie. Giant trees with exotic looking fruits stood imperiously along the trail, while the ground was covered in colorful flowers – as if some sugar high four year old had been put in charge of landscaping. However, suddenly the place felt more...alive. This was no longer a private hideaway – things lived in the darkness where the vegetation was thick enough to choke the sunlight. A faint sense of unease made me feel I was being watched, and I was for the first time truly thankful that we had an escort.

It's a common mistake amongst young wizards to try and categorize the Faerie as 'good' or 'bad'. The Seelie and Unseelie Courts – more commonly known as Summer and Winter respectively – are aptly named both for their particular magics, as well as their general tendencies. Winter is cold, unforgiving – breathtakingly beautiful in its mercilessness. Summer, tends to be warmer, more hospitable – outwardly, at least.

In my experience – and I've had a lot of it, with regards to the Fae – they're both equally pragmatic and manipulative of us mortals, it's just that Winter is much more straightforward about it. There were creatures in both courts that would kill me without a second thought, and my earlier conversation with Fix showed that even those that wouldn't kill me themselves had very little concern about my overall wellbeing.

We came to a halt just before a bridge – more ornamental than practical, just crossing a tiny trickle of water – and Fix turned back around, breaking the silence for the first time since we had left the garden.

"We'll cross back over just around the corner from your flat. We make sure it's safe, and then you gun it to the threshold." When we weren't in direct conflict, it was easy to see why Lily had made him her Knight – deep inside, there was a 'can-do' attitude just waiting to be released. "Alright," I responded, "Ready, grasshopper?"

She nodded. Poor kid, hardly said a word since the shit hit the fan. I almost miss the back chat. Still, nothing to worry about now – I wasn't at my best right after I'd been forced to fight for my life for the first time, and even now, it takes a lot out of ya.

Fix opened up the portal back to the mortal world, and I took a moment to appreciate the skill with which he did it. Whenever I may a door between worlds, I basically take the hack-and-slash approach, just making a rip in the fabric that keeps the two separate. I'm not incompetent...I've yet to unwittingly release a troll or ogre or any other nasty, but I'm not at all graceful with it. I've seen Fae open doors that could be considered works of art in the skill that goes into it. Fix looked like a professional athlete – pragmatic, yet with a grace and easy laziness that made what I knew first hand to be a challenging task for even a powerful wizard look easy.

Yep, at the end of the day, Fix was someone I needed to keep half an eye on. A wizard always has to be prepared...the last thing you want is to have your pants down and sitting on the can when a powerful magical being decides to stick it to you. Things like that can quickly ruin your day.

Two minutes later, we were running like madmen, rushing towards my door. Fix hadn't seen or felt anything out of place, and I hadn't lived as long as I had by not having a good gut instinct about these sort of things. The three of us crashed down the stairs leading to my door, stopping at my threshold.

"Alright Harry...you uh, take care." Fix mumbled, before offering me his hand. "Yeah," I replied, "you too." We stood for a second at the edge of my threshold, before Fix turned around and in one motion, bolted back up the stairs that led down to my flat, and a moment later was out of sight.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on the door. Neither Fix nor I had noticed anything odd in the thirty seconds it had taken to close the distance to my door, but then, if there was a nasty lurking around the corner., odds were fifty-fifty it would be able to hide from me. And me without a gun or blasting rod to my name...

A final pause, and I threw the door open, jumping a mile high when I was rammed in the legs, overbalancing and hitting into the wall.

"Fucking cat..." I muttered, embarrassment replacing my fear. "Scare me shitless why don't you." Molly came in, still silent, looking up at me expectantly.

"Right then," I said, hopefully in a tone that was full of cool competency and not at all still a little breathless from the recent panic attack. "Here's the deal kid – Fix reckons that with the loop-de-loop thing time does in the Nevernever, we hightailed it out of our Council-sponsored Hellhole about five minutes back. So, you've got two minutes – get whatever you need, and then we're gone." Without letting her respond, I crossed my impeccably clean living room, throwing the rugs back and opening up a trapdoor leading to my subbasement.

I felt a wave of sadness at the thought of leaving this place behind for the foreseeable future. It's not much of a home really, if my lack of a strong threshold is anything to go by. But at the end of the day, it was mine. Not to mention, it's got character. The building I live in is old – surviving through a number of Chicago's infamous fires. The floor boards creak and shift, and the draft is less than pleasant...not to mention my magic preventing any of the electronic comforts most people take for granted. Still, it has a personality you don't find in the mass of cookie-cutter houses these days, and my little basement apartment – filled with its haphazard collection of rugs and odds and ends - make it undeniably Dresden.

As I climbed down into my laboratory, I took a quick look around at what I would have to leave around. Very little down here was sentimental, but it was all useful, and it was pissing me off that I'd have to leave most of this behind. Still, valuables only. Maybe if the Council ever realized their mistake while simultaneously forgetting about my less than peaceful escape, I'd ask about reimbursement.

"Bob! Wake up, we've got trouble." I growled, all while rummaging through a pile of dusty tomes. My laboratory is incredibly organized, everything labeled and compartmentalized, but it houses several hundred pounds of books, journals dating back to the beginning of my magical training, two tables, a tiny desk for Molly, and god knows how many boxes and jars filled with anything I ever needed or could potentially find useful in the future. So while I was organized, neat and tidy just didn't quite fit.

"Right, let me guess," Bob drawled through a yawn. "You've finally decided to take me up on my offer to tutor you in the ways of obtaining female companionship." Bob is my resident genius – a spirit of intellect that lives inside a human skull. As I can't use a computer – too many sensitive bits for me to blow up – I've got Bob. Also one of the few beings in the fucked up world of ours I'd actually call my friend – and that list seems to get shorter all the time...

"Is this really pick on Harry day? First Lash, now you – do I really appear that desperate?" I looked up, Bob's eyes flashing as the skull's mouth began to open. "Don't answer that," I mumbled, picking up an old backpack and shoving some of my more...private notebooks into it. "But no, this is more Trouble with a capital T, rhymes the P...Wardens think I'm the traitor they're after, and I kinda blew a few things up escaping. We're out of here."

"Wow...holy crap! Life is never dull around you, is it Harry Dresden?" Bob grew pensive. "You're taking me with you, of course? Wouldn't be the first time I got pulled out of a burning house, but I'd rather not go through it all again."

I didn't bother rolling my eyes, instead debating on whether to throw in Molly's journals. After a minute, I added them to my sack. I might have gotten her almost killed, but damned if I was gonna let her studies slide too. "Bob, course you're coming. Where else would I get my daily levels of shock and disgust."

"A point." Bob conceded, sounding decidedly relieved. "So...what are we gonna do about that."

I looked up at Bob, then followed his eyes. "Shit...yeah, about that. Any ideas?" I stared stupidly at Little Chicago, a massive scaled model of the city I had been working on, and an absolutely ingenious way of tracking someone through the greater Chicago area. It was also extremely dangerous, storing enough magic that should anything go wrong, there wouldn't be much of the laboratory left.

"Well..." Bob responded, and I got the sinking feeling that his plan would be less than perfect. "On the plus side, blowing it sky high would deny the council the use of anything here at all, and that's a good thing, right?" I winced internally, yep – less than perfect.

"So," Bob continued, happily oblivious to my desire not to blow up half my net worth in a single moment, even if I was taking a temporary leave of absence for reasons of surviving. "Last I recall, you had a hefty supply of battery acid left over from that miserable abortion of yours. What was it again, my memory seems to have failed me?"

I growled. "Bob, you do realize this isn't a game, don't you? Literally, we have another minute and a half before we're out of here, or else we might never get the chance to come back...and furthermore, a potion to make my blood acidic to vampires could be really really useful." I'm brilliant at multitasking, the whole retort delivered while tyeing up a number of my carving tools. This wasn't the first time my staff and rod had been lost, stolen, or blown to itty bitty pieces. I have the tools, I have the technology...to rebuild my most basic survival weapons for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't keep that stick in your ass for too long. Anyway, what can I do boss? Always eager to help."

For a moment, I didn't answer, my eyes locked onto the corner of my basement covered in newly laid concrete. Underneath it, trapped physically by the floor and magically by the circle I'd placed around it, lay the damned coin of Lasciel, the source of this mess and, for the low low price of my soul, a very powerful way out of it. I'm not going to take it Lash. Not now, not ever.

Lash responded, though she didn't manifest herself physically – either in my head or before me. I have said nothing, dear host. As usual, I suspect you shall do what you must – nothing more.

I frowned, slightly put off by her neutrality and general...lack of pretty much anything. Lash is a passionate creature – how could she be anything less as an angel of seduction? For her to sound like a female Mac was nothing short of strange, and not a little disturbing. Filing the thought and turning away from the coin, I looked over at Little Chicago, and just as quickly my feelings changed once more, this time with elation.

With an exaggerated flair, I leaned over the miniature city, reaching out and grabbing a random apartment block. Snapping it out of its brace, I plucked it out of the city, tucking the tiny casting into my bag. Quickly, I did the same for a dozen other completely unmemorable sites around the city. Then, tossing the bag down, I wrenched up Wrigley field with both hands, and put it on the table. I did the same thing to both the Sears and Hancock Towers, as well as St. Mary of the Angel's and the Chicago Museum. I hunted through the box I'd last remembered seeing the battery acid, and almost whooped with glee when I pulled it out and just sloshed the thing all over the table, like a child with a paint can. "There you go, you bastards try using my baby now." Despite everything, I didn't do the evil laugh – that thing is a guarantee for an asskicking.

Instead, I turned back to Bob. "Sorry? You were saying...something about being useful?"

Bob grumbled. "Well, there's always the boring way of doing a job, and here I thought you wanted a little excitement in your life. Aren't you always whining when things get dead around here?"

"Dead...yes. But not dead dead, which is what we're all about to be. Let's go." I hoisted the two backpacks I'd managed to fill to bursting point onto my back, one over each shoulder. Then, I picked up Bob's skull, putting it in the special sack I have on hand for such an occasion. "Right then, away we go."

"Harry! The books, the books! Precious knowledge – you can't just leave it here for those filthy philistines – they wouldn't know a literary masterpiece if it wore a skirt and offered to blow them."

I sighed. I realized we were in a hurry, but I knew the contents of the basement more or less by heart – I wouldn't forget anything important. "Bob, it's fine. I've got my most important notebooks, I've got my Warden's Journal – despite just about gosh-darned everything, and I've got you. We're not exactly packing for a vacation in Rio. This is more of a Wardens-on-our-asses-run-away-quick kinda getaway."

"Oh right, you packed The Journal. Great dusty thing, never mind I've got the whole thing memorized..." Bob tsked, an impressive achievement for a being without a tongue or lips. "No...you complete idiot! I don't give a pint of piss about your little diary. Harry! You're leaving Brandi's Summer Fun to that incompetent gang of twats! Harry, none of those decrepit old pervs have had a sex drive in centuries! They can't possible appreciate such art!"

Ignoring the fact that it was Bob of all creatures calling someone a pervert, I quashed my irritation – Bob is far too useful an ally and dare I say it, good a friend to get upset over, even with the absurdity of our situation. Sullenly, I threw the romance novel in question into my bag, a second later adding an old addition of Playboy before closing the bag with a final zip. Bob's eyes glimmered for a moment, and I swore I could see him grinning.

We went up, and thankfully, Molly was already waiting for us. A really good time for her to start following my orders to the word. "Alright kid, got everything you need?"

She nodded, before finally, finally putting more than two words together. "None of my stuff is at your place anyway, so I packed a few days worth of clothes for you, and some food and stuff. I ugh...didn't go anywhere private, so if there's something else you want, you better go get it."

Well...oh Hell. Suddenly, I was immensely grateful that I'd decided to take her notebooks with us, however useless they may have been in the big scheme of things. At least it was something. "Right, thanks Molly," I replied, embarrassed. "We'll uh...pick up some stuff for you along the way, first thing – I promise." Molly nodded, looking a little like a lost puppy looking for a hug. Hell's Bells, but I'm just not that guy. So instead, I went with the next best thing. "Go stand by the door, I've got a few things to get and then we're out. And grasshopper?" She looked up expectantly, and hell – the kid deserved it.

"You did good today. A little more polish, a bit more time with yours truly, and you're gonna make one hell of a wizard." I gave her a tight grin, but she absolutely beamed at the compliment. Beamed. Kids...who can figure them out?

I went into my cramped kitchen space, going over to my icebox. It's the real thing – again, with my... electricity accidents – complete with a giant block of actual ice. I hadn't been lying entirely, I did need to pick up a few things, namely the bottles of Mac's home brew I had left. He'd kill me if he found out I chilled them, and he'd kill me twice if he found out I'd left them behind when only taking 'valuable possessions.' Most importantly, as soon as I had two seconds to sit down and breathe, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather have. If I had to leave my local haunts for a while, I'd ration that beer tight...tighter than a stripper's jeans. And Hell's Bell's, I need to get out more...

"Bob" I hissed, "still up for being useful." A grumpy cough came out of the sack.

"I think we've exhausted any humor in that concept." Bob responded, a little peeved. "I am always useful. And...this sack scratches."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "I don't care about your itchy sack...oh, grow up. You wanna get out of there or not?" At the possibility of leaving the skull, Bob's titters stopped abruptly. "What's the deal boss?" he asked, the epitome of respect.

"Get inside Mister, make sure he gets in the car – I'm not leaving him to the goonsquad. Same rules as always, you get back in the skull when I tell you, and you don't alert Molly to your presence. Agreed?"

"Yeh, yeh, no problem boss. So...I have your permission to come out?" Bob asked, suddenly sounding a little giddy. "Yeah, with the conditions above, you have my permission." I responded. An instant later, a tiny orange spark flew out of the bag, zipping out and hovering for a moment around my head. "Think the little cupcake will be up for a game of pet the pussy?" his voice whispered, a strange experience coming from a being that now had no visible mouth.

"Bob" I growled, but he ignored me, streaking out of the room towards my thirty pound beast-cat. "Right then, time's a wasting." Without another thought, I went to the door to a waiting Molly and an oddly attentive Mister. Next to my door stood the last two things that were in any way useful. The first was a sawed-off shotgun – for the first time I was thankful my halfbrother had a nasty habit of leaving illegal weapons out in the open whenever he left them at my place. The second, Fidelacchius, a Sword of the Cross that I had been appointed the owner of until I found another worthy to wield it against the Denarians. I let out a harsh laugh – only I could be the owner of the most powerful relics both sides sought, and accept neither. Too noble for my own good.

"Right, that's everything." I opened the door, and the three of us walked out into the night.