Life After Death
Chapter 12
"Harry Dresden is dead."
This time the words came from Margaret Dresden and from within my mind so it was all the more impossible for me to ignore them. It also shocked me to realize that her tone was now more certain of that statement than it had seemed before; not completely willing to accept it yet to be sure, but the inflection I heard was definitely leaning more in that direction. And with that another slice of my own will to deny this possibility and hope instead that he would suddenly reappear in our lives seemed to be cut away from my heart. I said nothing in response to her words, satisfied instead to merely take that particular 'sling and arrow' in silence and defiance.
The spirit in my mind immediately felt this turmoil within me. "My dear I am sorry for the pain I caused you with those words but I merely meant them to say that perhaps we have been looking at this situation under the wrong light. In order to solve this mystery we seem to be immersed within perhaps we need to consider a different range of alternatives." Margaret said with sympathy in her voice though still obviously not understanding that the only thing keeping me from an emotional breakdown which would hardly serve any of us was not considering this possibility.
I wanted to tell her that I understood, but the fact that even the spirit of his own mother seemed to be accepting the death of her son created too much emotion in me to let those particular words form. Instead there were just twin lines of tears that bubbled up from my eyes and flowed freely down my cheeks as my resistance began to crumble.
I was glad that I had dropped off Binder a few minutes earlier because not only would the tears have likely given away that I was not the real Harry Dresden, but I could not keep the magic of the illusion going wracked with such grief. The few drivers on the street who may have turned my way now saw a young woman in a Stetson and a leather duster driving the convertible Mustang through Chicago that evening.
"Molly, you must get a hold of yourself and listen to me!" Margaret's voice was louder than ever and more demanding than I ever had heard her before. I realized that she had been speaking other words up until this point and that I had defensively tuned them out in my current state. Wizards were not supposed to be so easily distracted that they failed to focus on other things around them, or in this case inside of them. And apprentices under the Doom of Damocles could not afford to let their emotions get the better of them and do something magically rash.
"I'm here Margaret." I thought in my head as I tried to pull myself back together from the emotional brink before I lost it and went over the edge. My world was tattered to be sure, but I'd be damned if I would fall apart before I got to the bottom of this mystery and solved it for Harry's sake if for no other reason. He would do it and therefore as his friend and apprentice, could I let his spirit expect any less from me where ever it was?
"I feel you coming back together Molly." Margaret said placing what amounted to a psychic arm around my shoulder to support me in our shared grief. "The time for grieving will come child but we have more important things at this moment that require your attention."
I sniffled and drew a deep breath to blow away the last of my grief for the moment before turning my attention fully back to the conversation. "I'm sorry Margaret, what were you saying?" I could feel her nodding her approval at my stand.
"I was saying that perhaps we have been looking at these events off kilter." She replied with a hint of hope. "We have been working off the assumption that the attack on Harry was to get him out of the way for whatever is taking place with your potion of blood components. But what if Harry is meant to be the result of these events, the final act of this mystery instead of the precursor?"
"I don't think I follow you." I said trying to wrap my mind around whatever the spirit was trying to convey.
"I am thinking over what we have learned so far and placing it into the greater context of the events taking place." She explained. "What did the last item on the list of potion components say exactly?" She asked me patiently but with a tone that it was important.
Normally I would have had to draw the scrap of paper out of my pocket to be able to read it, but instead Margaret made an image of the list appear in my mind so I did not need to do this. Yes another small part of my mind realized that if she could do this then she already had her answer and therefore the question was merely rhetoric but yet a third part of me also understood her purpose was to help put me back together by engaging me rather than just explaining. By getting me to focus on more immediate issues, such as solving this mystery, I would not lose myself in grief. I was lucky to have mamma Freud living with my mind now to keep me sane I guess. Of course wasn't hearing voices in your head sort of a sign of just the opposite?
Okay time to focus upon the task at hand. "And when all steps joined with the Blood of Vengeance, then the one who is dead will be restored." I said reading the bottom line of what I had copied down from The Archive. I focused on the words for only a moment as Margaret let me come to my own conclusions. It was not that I was particularly slow, she merely wanted to be ensured that I came to the same possible result so we could discuss this option rationally as she desired to.
"Are you suggesting that you think that Harry is the one meant to be restored from the dead?" I asked opening my mind to let it think that possibility through.
"It is hardly the only possibility, but I cannot find evidence that this option defies the facts that we have obtained so far." She said causing us both to think upon all that we knew was going on since Harry had been shot on the boat. I also knew that such thoughts of hope could easily be an emotional trap for the both of us because we wanted Harry to be alive. Harry had always told me to approach seeking all answers skeptically, especially those that are presented as exactly as what you wanted them to be.
"Okay, I grant you that solely from our limited facts that nothing disqualifies this as a possibility but let's think it through from beginning to end and see if the logic of this course of action still stands that test." I offered happy to have someone to keep me on track, even if just the disembodied spirit of my master and my first real love's mother trapped in my head because of a shared emotional experience of a soulgaze with both him and his brother. Yeah in New York even just thinking that required a year of three hundred dollar an hour shrink sessions. Thankfully Chicago was home to the Jerry Springer show so I merely had to wait for the taping of the 'I am possessed by the mother of my dead lover' episode and I could get this all off my chest in a way so much more entertaining to the general public.
"Don't be obstinate child it makes your hair turn grey before its time." Margaret politely scolded.
"I can always dye it." I said with an offhanded manner in response. "But let's focus on this possibility for a moment." I said turning my attention to the task at hand.
"I would suggest that we seek out a motive because if we nail that down a purpose for someone to do this then perhaps we can identify the one most likely to have this reason." Margaret Dresden replied like the lead actress on a CSI episode.
"Someone wants Harry dead so they can raise him like a zombie." I said offering the first and most obvious motive that came to me. "He certainly crossed paths with his share of necromancers so this is possible if it is meant as the ultimate act of vengeance against him by someone whose plans Harry thwarted." I explained.
"No Molly I do not think that is it." Margaret argued immediately and politely as she dismissed my option out of hand. "First of all necromancy for raising zombies does not take such elaborate components as your list requires, and even if it did I do not know how you would get a corpse to drink a potion to begin with."
"Pour it down their throat?" I offered thinking that to be the most obvious answer.
"Perhaps." She said with doubt that she was still not supportive of this particular idea. "But I think that based the wording of your list the goal is not a zombie. Your words say the potion will 'restore' the dead not 'raise' the dead." She countered.
"There is a significant difference?" I asked thinking that the two were synonymous but knowing that with magic the proper words were often very important to explaining the purpose behind a spell.
"They are quite different my dear." Margaret replied patiently to me. "Raised from the dead means the being's body returns to mobility with at best the spirit of the dead trapped somewhere inside the flesh yet mostly unable to exert his will. Most spirits called back do not like being so commanded and choose to go after the wizard that summoned them back if given the chance to do so which is why containing their will is so important." Margaret explained making me wonder how she had such knowledge of a supposedly forbidden subject. But then again my impression of her was a woman who sought out knowledge to better understand the world around her rather than someone who wanted to take it over.
"But Harry has fought necromancers backed by whole armies of zombies. They even battled through his wards and tore through his steel door once. How is it possible for someone to control that many minds?" I replied knowing this particular story. "Sure a strong person might dominate another's will, perhaps even a handful, but you cannot tell me that anyone has the strength to control an army of such beings." I said but even as the words came out of my mouth I thought that Binder could actually do just that. Was it possible that the otherwise dumpy looking hedge wizard was actually a super powerful necromancer and just hid this behind the foppish demeanor?
"No my dear, Binder is nothing more than he appears to be." Margaret responded reminding me in the process that she could sense what I was thinking even if it was not directed at her. "The spirits he calls forth have no actual will so he merely summons and orders them without facing any sort of resistance to his command. In fact since their 'deaths' do not actually harm them, merely send them back to the Nevernever, I would not be surprised if they look upon his commands like a trip to Disneyland."
"But your point is still well taken child. Necromancers use magical foci as a means to place a wall between yet still exert their will upon an 'army of zombies' such as Harry has encountered." The former Mrs. Dresden replied as she continued her explanation. "Usually this is done though musical instruments like a drum that plays a continual beat, serving the same purpose as a heartbeat in fact, to keep the zombies under control of the necromancer so that they do not turn on him."
"Well this is interesting but it takes us off target of why someone might be trying to kill and raise Harry." I scolded politely.
"Yes dear, but knowledge is never a wasted thing to obtain." She said smugly in response. She certainly sounded just like Harry at that moment much to my annoyance.
"Thank you Molly." She beamed as she read this thought and responded to that ato.
"It was not meant as a compliment." I replied in a deadpan thought. "So you don't think that this is all a necromancer who wants to raise Harry to be his personal foot cleaner or such?"
"No I do not. The spell is all wrong for that and this plan is far too complicated for such a relatively simple goal of just wanting revenge." She offered as an explanation.
"Then what do you think is being talked about if not this form of necromancy?" I asked the spirit within me.
"I was thinking instead of resurrection." Margaret replied calmly making me nearly jam upon my brakes in shock. Instead I pulled over to the curb and turned the car off so I could not be so dangerously distracted while driving. My auto insurance rates did not need that kind of increase.
"Are you kidding?" I asked with a sense of shock. "I thought that was deemed impossible."
"Well history records that it has happened once or twice before. I suspect you know something about that?" She said with a hint of humor since she knew that this real was the basis for all faith in the Church.
"Okay I will grant you that." I said conceding that particular point but certainly not the larger one. "But still it is hardly a common occurrence as far as magic goes. Those events were divine in power rather than merely a wizard's spell or potion." I still did not like to associate the miracles in the bible with the magic I had witnessed or performed myself. I know it was a weird way of looking at things based upon my chosen occupation, but it was how I balanced magic and faith.
"And even then isn't this kind of spell illegal?" I asked thinking that the Laws of Magic had to be against this if invading minds and raising the dead were illegal.
"Well yes the Fifth Law states "Thou Shall Not Reach Beyond the Borders of Life." Margaret quoted the text verbatim because all wizards were required to memorize these laws.
Normally this is considered the law that necromancers were punished under. It specifically denied magic wielders to summon, bind or exploit of the unwilling dead. For the record I myself asked Harry the obviously legal question of is there any such thing then as 'willing dead' where this law would not apply? By that I meant could I sign some sort of document saying I authorized a wizard to raise me up as a zombie just as I could will my body to be used for science or as a medical cadaver.
Harry simply said no, there were not any authorized caveats for humans, though animals were a gray area if the need was great enough for say a hundred million year old dinosaur.
But still that seemed to be reason enough to state that resurrection would not be looked upon positively for a human wizard and therefore according to Warden justice both the wizard responsible and the wizard resurrected would likely be put to death. With all the unwritten history I was learning about I made a mental not to look into any White Council, or whatever their precursor organization was called, connection to Jesus.
"But we both know that some people believe themselves to be above the law and therefore might choose to ignore the White Council's commandments if they felt they needed to." I said in response to Margaret's comment before she said it.
"Or perhaps it is one of the Senior White Council members themselves." She replied with hint of conspiracy theory. "I mean we already know that Wizard McCoy is allowed to violate the First Law of Magic that outlaws killing and it seems fairly likely that The Gatekeeper has some leeway to violate both the Sixth law on messing with the Currents of Time or the Seventh Law that deals with being from beyond the Outer Gates." She countered offering me examples that I had pondered upon myself.
"So let me get this straight. You propose that there is a member of the White Council authorized to violate the Fifth Law and is doing it to resurrect Harry?" I asked incredibly, but I had to admit the theory was not without some support based on these other facts.
"Certainly that is a possibility, albeit a very low likelihood one." She responded leaving us both thinking for a moment over that level of possibility and who the player behind the scene might be. Martha Liberty and Ancient Mai were the two females on the Senior Council so they seemed the most obvious, but neither was all that enamored of Harry which brought me back around to an undeniable conclusion.
"They have no reason to do such a thing." I said with a sense of near certainty. "Harry has been a concern to them for most of his life and with the exception of Ebenezer and perhaps The Gatekeeper, neither of whom is female, I do not see anyone going to the effort of restoring him to life if they actually had him killed." I said making my case. "What purpose would it serve to bring back a wizard who has caused them such angst?"
"That is the same question that stymies me Molly." Margaret said within my mind. "The means may exist, though I have no knowledge of such a spell, it was also not an area that I ever committed any time to research." She explained. "But still what would be the motive to kill Harry only then to restore him back to life?"
"I do not know either." I replied as I contemplated the possibilities. "It is not like anyone was going to collect upon his life insurance or anything." I had watched way too many episodes of Castle lately I guess since I was fairly certain that Harry did not actually have life insurance anyway. He usually lived paycheck to paycheck and therefore did not have the money for paying a policy premium like that.
"No I am sure such contracts require not only proof of death but also that the individual stay deceased before they willingly pay out any benefits." Margaret agreed. "The act of dying and returning would work far better as a means to end a marriage contract that had been sworn as 'til death do us part.'" She replied with a light laugh.
I started to laugh too but the word 'contract' suddenly bust into the forefront of my mind. Years ago Harry's godmother Leanansidhe, handmaiden of the Winter Court, had trapped Harry into promising to enslave himself to her in exchange for rescuing his friends who were badly endangered at the time. He eventually got around this by taking a rather slow acting poison and 'dying' for a moment thereby making the oath that existed between them null and void in the process.
Just days ago though Harry had made a similar arrangement to a being of even greater power, the Winter Queen Mab herself no less, to serve as her Winter Knight. Could all of this, Harry's apparent murder and now a magical resurrection spell, merely be another mad plan to circumvent a contract made to yet another powerful member of the Winter Court? Could Harry have conspired with another to violate the Laws of Magic and bring him back to life? Would he truly risk both the White Council's and Queen Mab's unforgiving wrath in this way?
"Oh god Harry NO!" It was Margaret Dresden's voice and not my own that screamed in worry at this particular notion that played out within my mind. Of course it did not help my own fragile emotional state any to hear her scream as well. "Molly are you sure of this? Did he truly make such a bargain and was it actually accepted?" She asked obviously unaware of this event but fully understanding of the repercussions of these actions.
"Um I heard his little friend Toot say that all of the Faeries had seen his um…acceptance…of Mab's offer. It had been rather explicit and out of this world in intensity from what I understand." I said internally blushing at how the little sprite had described it.
"The act of sex was merely Mab's means of binding Harry since we humans tend to put a greater value on that particular act than we do most others." Margaret explained which hardly helped my uncomfortable feelings I had thinking about this. "She desired him only because he denied her and if he were actually dead she would spend her next moment looking for his replacement and seeking revenge for this challenge to her authority rather than shedding tears for his death." She explained showing the true callowness of the aptly named Queen of Ice.
"So that is probably what she is doing right now." I said finishing that line of thought which supported my own. But I still went back to this underlying hypothesis. Had Harry manipulated events to get himself out of his contract to Mab?
"If he was so rash, the Queen of Air and Darkness will not find such a ploy amusing and while this might fulfill the terms of his agreement to serve her until his death, she will see his action instead as a mortal's insult and a challenge to her immortal power." Margaret explained reminding me that her own connection with the Winter Court was even more detailed than her son's and so then too was her knowledge of its history, politics and undercurrents. "She will make it her mission to humble him in such a way so that no one in either world could take strength from this example of his challenge to her power and try to cheat her in the future."
I thought of Lloyd Slate, the previous Winter Knight, who had betrayed Mab and sided with the Summer Lady Aurora against his own court. In response to this challenge and betrayal, Harry told me that Mab tortured him continuously in the most painful ways she could imagine; and that such immortal beings tended to have both long experience and fertile imaginations for such efforts. But Harry also explained that the queen would not allow her chosen knight to die no matter what she did to his body in order to both extend his torture and to place additional leverage upon Harry whom she wanted to serve in Lloyd Slate's stead. She had made this last point abundantly clear on multiple occasions saying that only Harry's acceptance of her offer would provide Lloyd Slate an end to his constant state of suffering.
In my relatively short career as an apprentice wizard I established a bit of a reputation so I was not unknown to the major personas of the Winter Court. In fact both Maeve and Leanansidhe had said that Queen Mab herself was becoming interested in me as well. When I heard it said to me, once in front of Harry no less, I had merely thought it to be another needling attempt to manipulate Harry into taking up the role of Winter Knight. But what if Mab were to offer me the job as a means to free Harry from his own suffering or revenge? Would I take up her offer to save Harry's soul? Could I possibly refuse with so much at stake? Did I even have the strength of character to resist her will as Harry did? I hoped he had made me strong enough to make the correct decision in that case.
"Do not even entertain such thoughts child." Margaret's voice cautioned. "Speaking such ideas aloud would reach the Queen's ears and if she has not considered this as of yet it serves your own interests no good to give her more to plot and contemplate over."
"But still could it really be possible that Harry caused his own death and now these magical events as an elaborate means to escape his bargain with Queen Mab?" I made sure only to think this question to Margaret and not to speak it aloud and therefore alert the Queen of this possibility.
"From all those facts we know I think it still unlikely dear, at least I hope it to be so for his sake most of all." She said with true concern of a mother. "But if I am wrong then I fear that our problems have just increased exponentially in both scope and danger." Of course I rationalized that natural increase was basically true pretty much anytime you had dealings with the Faerie Courts, trust me I learned this myself the hard way not so long ago.
"Perhaps if we truly knew if Harry was actually dead or not then we would be able to reason out if this was actually a possibility rather than get sidetracked with it." I said aloud filled with the frustration of not really definitively knowing what had happened to him.
"Of course that is the answer!" Margaret said with a mental slap of her forehead, which as a spirit possessing me was actually a slap of MY forehead but on the inside. Ouch!
"What?" I asked while actually rubbing my temple for the beginnings of a headache from the blow.
"Why don't we just ask Harry himself?" She said with a smile that looked a little crazy in my mind. Of course here I am parked in a car in the dead of night, all alone to those passing by and talking to a voice in my head so who was I to judge who was crazy.
"Um may because we assume he is dead and AT&T does not have a long distance rate for that area yet though I'm certain they are working on it." I replied and got a frown in response.
"Again child, Harry's sarcasm like his taste in fashion or fine cuisine really does not suit you." She said with her motherly disapproving tone. "But your point is well founded that you cannot merely pick up a telephone and call to see if he has checked in with Death. So what you need is to make a different type of call; perhaps one operator assisted."
"Huh?"
"Mortimer Lindquist." She replied with a name, a rather strange one at that, which I was not at all familiar with until she opened up that part of Harry's memories to me and the whole history of interaction with Harry was downloaded for me. Man if she could only do this with aikido like in The Matrix I would certainly be able to surprise Murphy on our next sparring match.
Mortimer Lindquist, according to Harry's now shared memories, was an actual medium or channeler for the spirits of the dead; sort of a Jennifer Love Hewitt in real life only guys would not regularly be tuning into his show hoping to catch him wearing only his sleepwear. But he was maybe Jennifer's actual height, meaning short, or perhaps just an inch or two more. That said though he was certainly double her weight at least and not because of muscle. As for sleepwear, Harry's siphoned memories showed me Mortimer wearing a faded maroon bathrobe with tufts of grey hairs sticking out of various holes in the garment. Maybe the SciFi channel would air a show about him but one scene of that and he could kill a network. Conservatives would be begging for Janet Jackson to be given a second chance!
Like Jennifer's character on television, Mortimer's ability to speak with ghosts was undeniable according to Harry. By the rules of the White Council Mort qualified as an ectomancer, a word I had never heard before but which I suddenly knew meant that he was skilled in calling forth beings that existed beyond the doors of death. The Wardens therefore kept a watchful eye on his operations so that he never stepped over the defined laws against necromancy but after thirty years of operations Mortimer Lindquist seemed to either be quite adept and staying inside these lines or even more skilled at hiding his transgressions.
I also learned that Mortimer had basically declared himself neutral in all wars and dark events that took place in this city that he considered his hometown. He had no desire to join the White Council when the offer was made, certainly a feeling I could sympathize with to some degree, and he also had no desire to be particularly helpful with them either as he saw this as a way of making their enemies his own.
It seemed that the only one Mortimer felt he had a duty to protect were the spirits of the dead with whom he communicated and shared an obvious affinity for. When Harry had been shocked to hear him say this Mortimer had merely replied that 'Just because they were dead did not mean they could not still be hurt.' Mort understood that Harry used his magic to help people and he respected Harry's decision to do so, but he did not feel, much to Harry's frustration, that he himself had any obligation to do the same. Thankfully, in every encounter with the ectomancer where his assistance had been necessary Harry had been able to weasel at least the minimal help or information out of him in order to save the day.
Knowing all of this now I saw that Margaret Dresden was right in her declaration. If Harry was dead then perhaps Mortimer could either talk to his spirit for us, or at least get his death confirmed by other spirits who were aware of his fate. If I was really lucky, according to Harry's shared memories of Mortimer, I might even be able to persuade Mortimer to request some information from the dead on who had set the fire last night and been the cause behind the explosion I had felt earlier as well.
I started the car and was happy to not only have a reasonable plan but also to know through more of these shared memories that Mortimer did not live far away from where I was at the moment. In fact he lived fairly close to the Graceland Cemetery which I guess given his profession did make sense in an odd and creepy sort of way. Talk about someone bringing their work home with them! Even so I was back on the road and smiling as I thought I might actually have some answers I needed in the next hour or so if I played my cards right. Playing it right would be the issue.
For being a professional medium, and therefore subject to the whims of an up and down economy when such events took place, Mortimer Lindquist had actually done pretty good for himself. He had moved out of a dilapidated apartment in the last few years and into a rather nice suburban duplex where he owned both units, using one side for business and the other for a home though his regular customers were not told that. It was a fairly upscale setup for someone in Chicago's magic community, especially when compared to the basement apartment Harry had rented and the nearly condemned office building he had worked from. Of course now both of those were rubble so Harry actually had even less.
As I drove through the nice middle class community that seemed to roll up its streets at night I had to pull over twice as twin waves of fire trucks, police cars, three ambulances, and even a city gas company vehicle all came racing by. Based upon my history and that cold feeling of ice in the pit of my stomach I do not need to tell you that I knew instantly this could hardly be a coincidence. And while I wanted to race in pursuit myself, Margaret reminded me that I could not afford to take any unnecessary chances of drawing additional attention to myself by being seen around a crime scene.
I turned off the road to Mortimer's house three blocks early and by this time the neighbors were all on the streets or house lights were burning as those newly awakened by the sirens wondered what was going on. I realized that I could not park on the streets because in this type of residential area everyone knew each others' cars and therefore mine would stand out as not supposed to be there. Thankfully when I reached the end of that block I could see a middle school a short distance away up the cul-de-sac and decided that at this time of night it was safe to park there if I kept my car out of sight in the back in one of the darkest patches.
The Harry Dresden outfit I wore would draw way too much attention here in suburbia in the middle of the night so I left it and the weapons behind in the car, taking only my wands which I could always claim were some sort of funky drumsticks if I was ever questioned about them. The hospital clothes that I wore underneath the duster were hardly any less obvious so I had to draw more magic to create a suitable illusion, jeans and a sweatshirt seemed unassuming enough to go unnoticed, before starting down the street where it seemed all the local people over the age of fifteen were still wandering about and wondering what caused the commotion.
When I tried like I normally did to draw in the magic though it came very slowly to me; much more slowly than it ever had for me before even when I was first learning of my powers. I wondered if I was somehow tapped out from all the illusions I had been maintaining all night but while I felt generally tired, I did not feel anywhere near that exhausted as I had in the past. But why then was it taking me so long to gather power when normally it took only seconds to accomplish this?
"The magic has been almost used up in this area Molly." Margaret's voice informed me as she experienced the effect that I was feeling through my senses including my magical ones.
"What? How is that possible?" I asked confused and in denial based on what I knew. "I would have felt if we had passed through a circle of power." Not to mention since I was driving my car which had iron-based steel in it that would have disrupted such a conjuring anyway.
"No the magic to this place has not been cut off from the world around us." She explained. "Instead it has been all used up, like all the water in a pond evaporating or a bottle of ketchup when french-fries are available. I can feel that it is slowly seeping back to refill this area, which is why you can still draw some power slowly to cast a spell, but it will likely be hours or longer until this place magically stabilizes once more."
"What the hell has the power that could do that?" I asked realizing I had been using that particular word a lot lately. Father Forthill was going to have a field day when he issued out my next penance after confession this Sunday. That is if I lived until Sunday.
"Obviously something that is incredibly powerful." She said with apparent awe as she too sensed the effect with unhidden wonder.
"Well duh!" I thought in response before I could stop myself and ended up drawing a little ire from Margaret's spirit in the process. "I meant how was it done?" I had a sudden revelation that answered my own question somewhat. "Oh of course, this is where the magical explosion originated from that we felt while at the cemetery." I suddenly understood the connection before the true gravity of that knowledge took hold.
"That certainly makes reasonable sense child at both how the magic has been dissipated from this location, as well as how we felt the edges of the spell's effect even miles away." Margaret agreed with the same sense of awed concern I had. You know having her agree with me about something so enormous was not at all comforting as one might think it to be. We continued to make our way to where the red and blue lights were flashing up ahead. I tried to focus on the remnants of the spell and what I could tell about it, its chemical fire residue was nearly a signature by now, and hopefully learn more about the caster than I presently knew.
"Molly veil now!" Margaret commanded and I did so without even thinking and thankfully just before two street racing motorcycles, one distinctively pure white, came blowing by me on the road and heading toward the police scene as well. I was glad Margaret was at least paying attention to what my ears were hearing even if I was not.
But of course the sudden appearance of Murphy and Thomas was going to complicate things. Neither Harry Dresden nor Molly Carpenter could afford to be seen here, but I could not just depart without at least trying to figure out what was going on.
I stayed under my veil and made my way to where my borrowed memories said that Mortimer's duplex had stood which was of course where all the emergency vehicles were gathered around. I used the past tense of those verbs because the house was no longer standing. Well actually the two outer side walls were still partially standing, but everything between them, two stories worth, appeared to be a crushed down into a pile of rubble as if some giant's foot had stomped upon it.
I was certain from the residual chemical like smell of the magic in the air that the spell I had sensed earlier who had been responsible for this destruction even though there was no sign of fire present. Oddly enough at first I thought there was also no damage to the nearby houses, but upon closer look I found examples of unique damage to just a few of those nearby.
For example at one residence about three houses away down the block the decorative wishing well that sat in the middle of a flower garden I noted was equally crushed, though there did not appear to be even a single petal damaged from any of the surrounding tulips. Across the street from Mortimer's former house the black cat shaped weathervane on the top of the neighbor's house was now a barely recognizable chunk of bent metal yet not a single shingle appeared so much as chipped of scorched. It was the oddest effect that I had ever seen magical damage take.
"That is because the spell that was cast here Molly only targeted magic." Margaret explained with an undisguised sense of wonder as she put the pieces together from what we saw. I have to say having this second seasoned mind able to figure some things out was worth the occasional awkward conversation. "Wishing wells and black cats both have magical connections so even though these were fake, the symbology of these items allowed the spell to affect them. This is why you felt the power in the graveyard yet no cars on the street crashed because their drivers had been equally jolted."
"You can use a spell to target only magic?" I said never having heard of such a thing.
"If you are powerful enough you can use magic to target almost anything that your mind can define." She cautioned causing me to pause to consider this, which was good because in my admiration mixed with terror at this new revelation I nearly bumped into Thomas who was wandering through the edges of the crowd trying to remain discrete. Yeah, for the record sex vampires dressed all in a tight, white leather motorcycle racing body suit with the zipper undone nearly to his navel and nothing underneath does not really work as discrete. Not that I was particularly complaining about the cheesecake delivery mind you!
I backed away having seen what I needed to of the house remains and spell and began to make my way toward the ambulances which is where I assumed I would likely find Mortimer if he were still alive or not. I stayed back though because Murphy seemed to have the same thought for a good observation point.
But since none of the EMTs seemed to be in a particular rush that seemed to indicate either the ectomancer was not here, not injured, or he was talking to spirits in a far more direct and one-on-one environment than he had likely expected to. I decided for confirmation sake to take the long way around a neighbor's house in order to get to a place where I could look into the ambulance to see if the last option was true. I thought it was a good thing Karrin was small so I'd be able to see over her even staked out as she was and into the back of the vehicle.
I was out of sight of everyone at the disaster scene and therefore a bit more relaxed than was probably good for me when 'she' stepped out from under the branches of a weeping willow tree looking straight at me as if my veil was not even there. I was so shocked by her cloaked and hooded appearance that I froze momentarily allowing her the opportunity to take the first move; something Harry told me never to let an enemy get.
"I am so glad to see you are not still sporting that ridiculous getup from last night." She said showing me that she had also obviously seen right through my illusions. Well Ms. Gard had done the same so I should not really be surprised that others with power could do so as well.
I made no hostile move but began to draw more magic to me while dropping the otherwise useless veil so not to waste any other power and split my concentration. "I did not know you were an expert in fashion since you seem to be stuck within the sixteenth century ninja look and all." I said in response. "Or are you just that ugly that your clothing choice qualifies more as a public service?" Yeah I know it's not smart to instigate a fight with a badass but she already had tried to kill me once so it's hardly like I expected us to be friends during this encounter. Therefore my next best option was to keep her emotionally off balance hoping she would make a mistake and insults tend to work well for that type of thing.
She merely shook her head and I felt her disdain for me. "You truly are pathetic. I had hoped that your earlier victories at the museum and against the Summer Court might have actually meant that you were more formidable than your street walker appearance seemed to indicate. Sadly now I see this is not so."
Did she actually just call me a whore? I blinked to myself and clenched my fists feeling my own nails dig in my skin. Some things a girl does not have to tolerate.
"Worse still you do not even have the intelligence to recognize your inadequacy and therefore surround yourself with capable friends for mutual protection as you did on the island of the Sirens." Wow this bitch had been watching me for some time, and closely as well which was rather disturbing to now find out since I had no clue of this.
"And even after I went through all the proper Accords protocols of informing you that I sought your life through the declaration of a Blood Feud you think you would show me a similar honor of taking this threat seriously." She degraded me further as if my actions were some sort of purposeful insult to her. "Surely you were not coming here expecting that the spirit talker would be of any use against me did you?" She asked with her tone of superiority. "If so I am saddened to inform you that I have him stashed safely away until I have collected all my other prizes."
"Lady, I don't want to ruin your whole I'm a PMS psycho bitch with an attitude thing you have going but other than the note that you sent me I really have no idea who you are or especially why you have this 'Blood Feud' issue with me." I said feeling a little more confident as I felt my internal magic gauge slowly increasing past the half full line and heading for being topped off and ready for a fight. That meant I could do some significant throwing down if the situation demanded it.
The woman's eyes flashed with fire. I mean they really flashed with fire! Two little jets of flame shot perhaps three inches in my direction from her almond shaped orbs, which took on a reddish black hue thereafter. She stared at me with projecting ultimate rage, and the wave of pure hatred in her emotions was so strong that it nearly gave me a headache for its intensity.
"Not understanding why your death is required was merely insolent enough to require it to be painful, but purposely being ignorant is beyond impertinent and means your death is now required to be as drawn out and torturous as possible, perhaps by having your entrails slowly pulled from a slit in your stomach in order to slowly feed a red ant colony." Wow that was pretty damn disgusting and not a way I wanted to spend a weekend if I had the choice. And being a wizard meant I had a choice now that I was topping toward full on the magic meter.
"Eat this wench!" I said taking all the spell power that I had in me and focusing it through my hand to offer a blast of icy cold since I assumed she had a natural preference and affinity for fire. See all those games of Arcanus with Harry did offer valuable advice.
But before I could call the proper word and fire off the spell she waved her hand dismissively at me and released a wave of intense magic of her own that I was totally unprepared for which was even worse. I mean as a sensitive wizard I'm supposed to feel such power being called up, but either she did it incredibly fast in what was still a mostly magical empty zone which I do not think was possible, or she had one hell of a backup magic battery like my own chi to tap into when she needed it.
The result of her spell was my body was pushed down to the ground on my back beneath what felt like an invisible 747 parked on top of me. I could barely find the ability to breath and so had no chance to resist or heaven forbid counter the spell that she had literally dropped upon me. And just because my body barely found the air to breath did not mean I could form a coherent word beyond a whimper of tortured pain.
"At every turn you have revealed yourself to be a complete disappointment." She continued with her diatribe not even adding the mocking laugh of an evil emperor but instead saying these insults with as little emotion as she could offer but still filled with deadly intent. "You deprive me of any sense of honor in this revenge."
"Molly you have to find the will to resist." Margaret's voice called in my head urging me to fight back and defy the power my quite capable opponent arrayed against me.
"That…is…easier…said…" I tried thinking the words to answer Margaret but the weight was so much I strained to make even a coherent thought. Thankfully I still had the magic I called forth focused in my hand if I could find a way to focus and release it.
"At least last night you had the good manners to bring your little birdie friend with you." The veiled woman continued ignoring my struggles as she was so confident in her magic. "She was momentarily entertaining until I grew bored with her and decided to end that particular dance. She was cunning enough to flee though I suspect it will be many days before the little canary finds the means to fly again."
"Too…much…weight…" I gasped as a thought in my mind. An image of me on my back pressed down under a great cylinder on an open plain formed in my mind. As I pictured trying to get my hands and knees above my body to begin to push it backwards but I could find no strength to resist this force that weighed me down. Worse still the magic pushing me down felt like thick molasses or quicksand and where I began to resist merely seemed to seep deeper inside rather than back off.
"Do not try to move it all Molly." Margaret pleaded as she stood beside me watching but still unable to lend any assistance in my moment of need beyond her advice.
"I could destroy you now but there is no sport in that. Nor would I gain back the honor for me and mine." She said dismissively and turned her back upon me. "You have demonstrated that your type has no chance against our kind unless you fight from the shadows of dishonor. Only in that way could your type triumph. So to take away that victory so undeserved, understand that your death in the days to come will restore more than just our honor, it will restore our strength and make your previous victory hollow."
"Our kind?" I thought to myself through the haze of resisting her spell and then accepting through this worded acknowledgement that she was not merely a wizard, or at least did not consider herself to be what most would consider a wizard.
"Molly, focus!" Margaret said sharply with excitement drawing my full attention back to my current issue of being crushed mentally under my opponent's will. I tried to rally more strength from the world around me or anywhere but nothing significant came to my call.
"No Molly, focus!" Margaret said again and suddenly I understood what she was actually trying to tell me was not that my mind was merely drifting on other subjects.
I stopped fighting with my will against hers across the entire width of her spell and mentally trying to lift its power off of me as I had been trying to do and badly failing. Instead I drew all my will together and pictured it now as an representation in my mind of a needle thin point and released all my magic into that sliver of focus.
This needle punched through her own spell barrier like it was merely tissue paper and upon reaching through to the far side of the spell the magical weight upon me shattered and I was suddenly free. I was mentally exhausted by this effort, but I still scrambled to me feet, mostly just to show some element of defiance as my cloaked and hooded enemy turned to look in my direction and I could see her eyes smiling at my success.
"Mayhap you will provide some minor momentary level of entertainment after all." She said with a small nod at my success as if it still meant less than nothing and turned her back to me to leave again.
"Wait!" I gasped as an attempt at an order. Who knew a mental willpower strain could leave a person breathless too? "Answer a question for me first." I wheezed.
"What makes you think that I would accept that you have any bargaining weight with me?" She said with her back still to me so to show she could ignore me completely if she choose, but still not walking any further away as she waited for my answer.
Of course I ignored her question to me completely because frankly nothing came to mind that served as a suitable answer and I did not want her to use that as a reason to leave without hearing my inquiry. Instead I went straight to what was important to me like she had never asked anything of me. "Were you the one who had Harry killed in order to make way for all your plans?" I asked her back.
Her head slowly pivoted around so that one gleaming and still dark red eye could look my direction, so far that it seemed her turned neck was on the edge of being unnatural but that might have been an optical illusion created by the cloak and hood she wore. Her emotions were coldly calculating and momentarily intrigued.
"I will agree to answer your own inquiry if you answer a question for me first." She negotiated. Harry told me to avoid all such negotiated bargains with magical beings as even seemingly simple things can be considered binding. But I had to know and anything she might want to know about me, any vulnerability I might offer, would easily be worth this information since she already demonstrated how much more powerful she was.
"I agree." I merely said feeling the air charge with magic at the sealing of our pact.
"Did you love him?" She asked me straight forward without beating around the bush. You will note I avoided punning that she went straight to the heart of the matter. "Did you love him so much that you would hate me with the very essence of your immortal soul for stealing him for you?" She openly mocked me by adding a twinge of laughter which made the anger grow even hotter within me.
"Did you love him so much that you would you even willingly compromise every principle you have to seek revenge for his death?" She asked at last with chuckles but deadly serious undertone?
"YES!" I said through gritted teeth being honest not because of the binding of the agreement, but because I wanted her to know the extremes of what I would willingly do for him and the revenge that I would inflict upon her as well.
"Then yes I did." She said as if it were nothing at all. "Because of me, Harry Dresden is dead!"