Well. That put a hell of a lot into perspective. Like, for example, the crying. Also her near desperation.

Even a single faerie gift would leave a mark. One volt of magic, so to speak. But give him big enough gifts, or give him enough of them, or God forbid do both, and… well, the charge would build. And the greater the charge, the greater Toby's potential effect on his father's life expectancy.

It had to be one of the crueler cuts of Sarah's new nature. I doubted it was even intentional. She was trying to stay in his life, trying to make sure he wouldn't forget her, so she'd always have a window. So she'd have a way and a reason and the Goblin King's permission to leave the Nevernever.

And I wasn't sure there was a damned thing I could do.

"I see," I said. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Williams, but I'm not sure what you want me to do."

That sent Irene reaching for the tissues again. "Can't you just… talk sense into her? You're a wizard. She might listen to you better than she does us."

I wanted to laugh. Wizard or not, I was still human. More importantly, I was still mortal. And if supernatural scuttlebutt was right, Sarah was something Else, now. She'd have about as much patience for the words and so-called wisdom of a mere mortal as her King would. Maybe slightly more.

Thing was, I didn't like taking people's money when I couldn't solve their problems.

"I'm willing to pay up front for your best effort," Irene said. "I'm not expecting a miracle. I just - I just need to know it's been tried."

"You've got another plan up your sleeve," I said.

"Moving house," Irene said, very softly. "And never speaking her name again. Never alluding to her. David is packing away all our pictures of her, all her old things..."

I repressed a shudder at the thought. Human minds aren't made to handle the Nevernever. We can deal with it in short bursts, but it's far too alien, far too illogical, for us to really process. The thought of a once-mortal Goblin Queen trapped inside it, forever stewing over the brother who'd forgotten her? Going crazier and crazier all the while?

That was a consequence that didn't bear thinking about.

"I don't recommend that," I told her. "I understand that you feel you have to in order to keep your son and your husband safe, but I would really try to avoid making the Goblin Queen my enemy."

Actually, the Goblin Queen was far too young to have much of a reputation. But pissing off faeries was not a thing undertaken lightly. I'd know; I've made tweaking the noses of the powerful into part and parcel of my reputation. At a meeting with Harry Dresden, anyone of stature expects to be made fun of.

But these were "mere" mortals, and the Goblin Queen had a very old, very ill-reputed husband with very little incentive to keep David and Irene Williams alive. Never mind refrain from torturing them into madness or worse.

"So what would you do?"

I sighed and reached into one of my desk drawers. I had a cold-forged horseshoe in there, which I handed over. "Tell your husband to wear that around his neck. That should protect him from her magic."

"That's it? A lucky horseshoe?"

"It's cold iron," I said, feeling my temper fray. "Fae are wounded by cold iron, so he shouldn't touch her while he's wearing it. Try to come to some kind of… visitation agreement."

"Visitation," Irene said. Her voice had the light, brittle quality of someone who didn't quite believe what she was hearing.

I sighed. I was ten years younger than her at least, but I felt old. I was older and wiser in the ways of the supernatural, at least.

"Listen. You can't run from her. She's not quite human anymore; if you run, she'll have to chase you. Not to mention, if you give her an axe to grind, it's her very scary husband who will bring it down on your heads."

Irene stared at me.

I used very small words to explain: "He granted her wishes when she was fifteen. He married her when she was twenty. He's made her something more than human. There is no way he doesn't love her, in some twisted fae sense. You piss her off enough, or harm her, and he's oath-bound as her husband to 'defend' her, and that won't be pretty."

"Alright," Irene said. "Alright. Cold iron and visitation. Just… please, just talk to her first?"

"Okay," I said.

Looking back, I'm really kicking myself for not telling Irene Williams to get the hell out of my office at the words 'Goblin Queen.'

Just two days later, Irene Williams called me. I headed out to the address she'd given me.

There I found a strangely stunning brunette lifting a young boy into the air. His hair was blond - though in a shade that suggested it would soon darken to brown - and his eyes were blue. The brunette's face had striking angular lines, thanks to high cheekbones, softened by a full mouth and an overall round face shape. But in the boy's face I saw none of that softness: just a surprisingly sharp jaw for a child and cheekbones he could have cut someone with. Sarah and Toby, I assumed.

Sarah had her hands wrapped around his chest, thumbs digging in just above his armpits and fingers digging into his back. Her arms formed straight parallel lines. When she twirled - and of course she twirled, nobody lifted a kid in the air like that and didn't twirl - her hair fanned and flew. They were both laughing; I heard normal, girlish giggles and a strange, ringing, fluting laugh.

Then she caught sight of me, and her eyes narrowed.

"You're the wizard Dresden," she said. The breathy giggling was gone from her voice. Instead all I heard was something hard and brittle.

I looked away from her eyes. They'd been green as summer grass, but I didn't dare soulgaze her.

When I looked back to her, she'd set Toby down on the ground. I watched her flck her wrist. A chocolate bar appeared in her hands. Sarah broke off half of it and said, "Ludo's looking for you, Toby."

Toby took the chocolate in one fist and scampered away. For the best, really. I hoped the shrill noises he made were sounds of delight and not terror.

"I assume you're the Goblin Queen?"

"Here," she said, "I'm Sarah."

Okay, that was a good sign. Sticking to human name in the human world probably meant -

And then she aded, "Most of the time."

There is not actually enough money in the world for me to deal with this, I thought. Naturally, I said something more flattering, probably about not having the words to describe her beauty and benevolence, and who or what was Ludo. I don't remember what I said. I was a little distracted trying to figure her out.

I've seen some beautiful women. I've seen some beautiful fae women. But the thing that strikes me most about the Goblin Queen - even now - is how normal she seemed. Brown hair, pale complexion, freckles on her nose. Eyes that were both green and pale enough to fall into (I tried not to look too long). She was wearing a tee shirt and jeans, and the only sign that she was a Queen in the Nevernever was a crown of sea shells and looped wire. Every so often what looked like sea glass but was maybe just glass-glass, like marbles, glinted from it. It wasn't a fancy royal crown, either, just a simple loop she'd thrown on over her head.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and if it hadn't been for that damnable crown and my lizard brain telling me that if I started running right now she might lose interest in the chase, she'd have looked totally normal. Just a defensive twentysomething.

"I'm not giving up the right to see him."

"I'm not asking you to give up Toby," I said. I tried to spread my hands soothingly. "But your magic could kill your father."

"And staying trapped Underground all the time could kill me," she snapped.

Melodrama. Hoo boy. "It's not going to kill you."

"It's only forever," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Not long at all."

I goggled. Had she just started singing?

A smile curved across her lips. "Offer me something, Harry Dresden."

This was boding less and less well. "How about a way to make sure you get to visit the mortal world, and your father doesn't die?"

"You gave my step-mother cold iron." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "The first thing she did when I showed up was brandish it in my face and tell me it meant I couldn't hurt Dad. Like I'd even want to."

"Sarah, he has a pacemaker. Your magic could cause it to malfunction, or even just stop working."

She raised an eyebrow. It wasn't an expression that meant she was waiting to hear my offer. It was an expression asking why she should care.

I got the sudden sinking feeling that she was only really human with Toby anymore. And I wondered how long it would be until that faded, too.

"Sarah, do you want your father to die?"

She drew herself up and tossed some of her hair over her shoulders. "This conversation is over."

"I really don't think -"

"It's further than you think," she whispered, her eyes falling half-lidded and then closed, "and time is short."

And then she was gone, leaving me to wonder if this was at all worth the money. If Lea got wind that I was involving myself in the affairs of Faerie or the Wyldfae without her support, it wasn't worth all the money in the world. Hopefully, my luck so far would hold, and Sarah wouldn't know that if she wanted me the hell out of her business, all she had to do was talk to the Leanansidhe.