Chapter Eleven
Chapter
Eleven
September continued to smolder. There had been fires in Canada, and sunset had filled the crippled city with an orange haze.
Bear was training half a dozen Knights of the Bean on the roof of the castle, where several wrestling mats had been tossed down.
Will was working with them, and so was Fitz, at my suggestion.
Bear was teaching them pankration—an ancient Greek style of martial arts that basically amounted to boxing plus wrestling plus kicking plus the dirtiest fighting tricks of human history.
Bear had learned in Sparta, so she was what you might call a pure source.
She’d started giving me solo lessons about a week before, and I had a mouse under one eye and bruises all over my torso to show for it.
Spartan pankration wasn’t exactly something you did for recreation, and the boys were taking their bruises learning.
I was with Michael Carpenter at the grill, making burgers and dogs.
“They think you’re getting better, don’t they?” Michael said calmly. He opened the cooler and got out a couple of chilled bottles of Mac’s pale. He opened them and passed me one.
“I’m functioning better,” I said. “I handled a case for this tutoring service. There was an evil hag and a spirit bear and explosions and everything.”
Michael grunted. He was a man in his fifties, tall and hale, with artistically grizzled hair and beard. He was half-covered in drywall dust. Several of his crew had joined in on the pankration lessons along with my guys. He was my friend.
“That’s not the same thing as you dealing with what happened to you,” he said quietly.
“I’m moving on,” I said shortly. I flipped a burger and it sizzled. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
He clinked my bottle with his and said, “Drink.”
I remembered and did.
He mirrored me and said, “I know you want to be there for people, Harry,” he said. “That’s who you are. But if you don’t get yourself squared away, you’re not going to be able to provide for anyone.”
“How’s Maggie?” I asked him.
He grimaced. He studied my face for a moment and visibly decided to relent. “She wishes you’d visit more. Charity formed a soccer league for the local kids, and they take over the street every afternoon. She’s playing goalkeeper. She lost her last baby tooth.”
“Did you—” I began.
“Collected it, ground it to dust, scattered it,” Michael said, his voice soothing. “I remember.”
I nodded slowly, relaxing.
“We’re having dinner on Sunday,” he said. “I’ll expect you to be there.”
“I have some things going on here,” I said, gesturing toward the training mats. Will caught Fitz in a throw and slammed the young man down onto the mat with a thump that made everyone stop and look for a second.
Michael smiled with his eyes. “I’m guarding and feeding your daughter while the city bleeds,” he said. “You’ll be there. It will be good for you.”
“We’ll see,” I said grumpily.
But we both knew better.
“Good,” he said. “Get up and walk, son,” he called to Fitz. “It’ll bring your wind back faster.” He studied the burgers for a moment and said, “Like them rare, huh?”
“Leaves the most nutrition in them,” I said.
“Makes my stomach hurt,” he said. “Be more patient with a couple.”
I obliged.
“You could talk to me about it, you know,” Michael said. “I’m here most days.”
“You’re working on getting the castle ready to keep people safe and warm this winter.”
“Try me,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. I started flipping a burger for each bullet point, the meat sizzling.
“Vampire queen is threatening to be nice to me. My boss wants me to sleep with her and turn myself into a junkie. King Etri wants me to do the impossible or he hounds me to death. Thomas is dying and won’t save himself unless he can do it with a clear conscience.
Justine and her baby are still missing. The Black Court has the remains of my friends and is using them for God knows what.
The White Council thinks I’m Voldemort and I’m doing stuff to make them sure of it if I get caught.
SI wants me to help them stop ghouls from taking about thirty people a night.
” I slapped the last few burgers over harder, making flames leap up from the charcoal.
“There’s probably more that I’m forgetting. ”
“That’s what’s happening,” Michael said gently. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
I glowered at him and took a drink from my bottle as viciously as I knew how.
“What do you want to hear, man?” I asked him in a dull monotone.
“You want to hear how I can only sleep two or three hours a night? You want to hear how I can’t concentrate?
Can barely do magic? You want to hear how the Winter mantle is chewing at me night and day and telling me to take advantage of the chaos, go out and conquer and pillage?
How I keep waking up from nightmares about turning people into briquettes?
How this stupid burn on my arm hasn’t healed?
How every time I close my eyes I keep seeing how weird and pale her face looked when she was bleeding out? ”
He watched me, his eyes pained, listening.
“I don’t taste anything I eat,” I said. “I move around and exercise and I meditate and I listen to good advice and it doesn’t do a damned thing.
When I’m alone at night, I cry. I cry until it hurts.
And when I can’t cry anymore, it isn’t better.
It still hurts. It’s still all built up inside me.
My stomach hurts. All the time.” I looked out at the city, at nothing in particular.
“Sometimes I start screaming and I can’t stop.
Nothing sounds good. Nothing looks good.
Nothing feels good. Nothing tastes good. Nothing smells good. It’s all grey.”
“And?” he said gently.
I was quiet for a long moment. “And I miss her, man.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Go ahead,” I said, an edge coming into my voice. “Tell me how to make it all better.”
“You can’t,” he said gently.
I eyed him.
“Not yet,” he said. “It is going to take time, Harry. Time to heal. Time for the good things you’re doing to help you get your balance again.”
I scoffed and rolled some dogs across the grill.
“I know,” he said. “You don’t believe it yourself. Not yet. But you will, in time.”
“You don’t know that,” I said shortly.
“Of course not,” he said. “How could I?” He smiled at me again. “But I have faith.”
“Oh,” I said. “Faith.”
“I don’t always make the right choices, Harry,” he said.
“I don’t always know the right thing to do.
But I do know that I have put my faith in you many times over the years of our friendship.
And I have never once regretted doing so.
” He reached out and took the wooden handle of the turner out of my hands and started expertly flicking burgers onto waiting buns.
“You walk in a world of shadows, Harry. But you’ve always carried your own light.
Your path has turned dark and winding, and you aren’t sure where you are at the moment.
But you’ll find your way. When it’s time. When you’re ready.”
I closed my eyes.
“There’s a little girl who is waiting for you,” he said. “She keeps a little light in her window at night, you know. In case you come to see her and need it to find your way.”
Something in my chest cracked.
“She does?” I whispered.
“She has faith, too,” Michael said. I felt his hand settle on my shoulder and squeeze gently. “Sunday,” he said firmly. “Dinner with my family. And yours.”
Maggie.
Right.
There could be a world of things happening. But I had to remember why I was doing what I was doing. Building a home. Building back a man who could be her father. Building a place where she could be safe and loved.
The world had dealt me horrible wounds.
It was up to me to make them right again.
For her.
Maybe even for me.
It took me a couple of tries to say, “Well. If it will get you off my back.”
“That’s more like it.” He rumbled out a chuckle and called out, “Bear! Quit beating them and let them eat!”
The Valkyrie laughed and came over to be first in line for the food.
Bear ate and drank like the crew of a Viking longship, and filled up the first of what would be two or three plates with enthusiasm.
The men who’d been learning from her came off the mats in high spirits, talking and laughing, to collect food and bottles of ale of their own.
For a minute, I just…opened myself to it.
To the camaraderie. The friendly talk and laughter.
Will was deep in a conversation with Fitz, explaining how he’d defeated him.
They smelled of sweat and sawdust and propellant and gun-cleaning solvent.
For a moment, I set aside all the things that had happened to me, all the bad things I felt in my body, all the terrible memories, and just felt the vibe.
Pleasant exhaustion. High spirits. Hunger. Good food. Excellent beer. Some bruises and scrapes and no hard feelings about them.
I felt as much as heard the footsteps coming up behind me.
I turned to find a middle-aged Latino man, stocky and unremarkable, with silver streaks at his temples and a smile on his face. “Mister Dresden,” he said.
I recognized him—the father of one of the families who was staying with me. “Oh, uh. Mister Jiminez, right?”
“Matias,” he said easily. “Do you have a moment?”
“Sure,” I said.
“My daughter, Elena,” he said. His accent was pretty thick, but there was no hesitation to his speech. “She was sick. You got her a doctor.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yes.”
“I have come to thank you,” he said. “There are many people in this city who struggle. They cannot take care of anyone else. You have opened your home to us. This is a very big thing. I wanted you to know that we are grateful. We will do whatever we can to return your kindness.”
“Oh,” I said. “Sure.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding at me. “It took time for me to get the words. But thank you. You did not have to do this.”
“Yes,” I said. “I did.”
He tilted his head and studied me for a moment and then smiled. He looked at Michael and nodded toward me. “Good man there.”
Michael passed Matias a bottle. “Yes. He is.”
Something loosened in my stomach.
“You know what?” I said. “I’m hungry.”
Michael made me a burger. We didn’t have much to go on them—just the buns we’d thawed along with the frozen patties and dogs. Some ketchup. Some mustard.
But I decided I could take a brief time-out from all the bad things around me.
And the food was delicious.
Bear gave Michael a look of decided approval as she chewed.
“Will,” I said, licking my fingers.
“Yes, Harry?” he said, looking up at me.
“Get in touch with Carter LaChaise,” I said.
“Who’s that?”
“King of the Ghouls, more or less,” I said casually. “Tell him that he’s going to have a talk with me.”