Table of Contents
ALSO BY JIM BUTCHER
THE DRESDEN FILES
STORM FRONT
FOOL MOON
GRAVE PERIL
SUMMER KNIGHT
DEATH MASKS
BLOOD RITES
DEAD BEAT
PROVEN GUILTY
WHITE NIGHT
SMALL FAVOR
TURN COAT
THE CODEX ALERA
FURIES OF CALDERON
ACADEMS FURY
CURSORS FURY
CAPTAINS FURY
PRINCEPS FURY
FIRST LORDS FURY
Chapter One
I answered the phone, and Susan Rodriguez said, Theyve taken our daughter.
I sat there for a long five count, swallowed, and said, Um. What?
You heard me, Harry, Susan said gently.
Oh, I said. Um.
The line isnt secure, she said. Ill be in town tonight. We can talk then.
Yeah, I said. Okay.
Harry... she said. Im not... I never wanted to She cut the words off with an impatient sigh. I heard a voice over the loudspeaker in the background, saying something in Spanish. Well have time for that later. The plane is boarding. Ive got to go. About twelve hours.
Okay, I said. Ill... Ill be here.
She hesitated, as if about to say something else, but then she hung up.
I sat there with the phone against my ear. After a while, it started making that double-speed busy-signal noise.
Our daughter.
She said our daughter.
I hung the phone up. Or tried. I missed the base. The receiver clattered to the floor.
Mouse, my big, shaggy grey dog, rose up from his usual napping spot in the tiny kitchenette my basement apartment boasted, and came trotting over to sit down at my feet, staring up at me with dark, worried doggy eyes. After a moment, he made a little huffing sound, then carefully picked the receiver up in his jaws and settled it onto the base. Then he went back to staring worriedly at me.
I... I paused, trying to get my head around the concept. I... I might have a child.
Mouse made an uncertain, high-pitched noise.
Yeah. How do you think I feel? I stared at the far wall. Then I stood up and reached for my coat. I... think I need a drink, I said. I nodded, focusing on nothing. Yeah. Something like this... yeah.
Mouse made a distressed noise and rose.
Sure, I told him. You can come. Hell, maybe you can drive me home or something.
I got honked at a lot on the way to McAnallys. I didnt care. I made it without crashing into anyone. Thats the important thing, right? I pulled my battered, trusty old Volkswagen Bug over into the little parking lot next to Macs place. I started inside.
Mouse made a whuffing sound.
I looked over my shoulder. Id left the car door open. The big dog nosed it closed.
Thanks, I said.
We went into the pub.
Macs place looks like Cheers after a mild apocalypse. There are thirteen wooden pillars irregularly spaced around the room, holding up the roof. Theyre all carved with scenes of Old World fairy tales, some of them amusing, more of them sinister. There are thirteen ceiling fans spinning lazily throughout the place, and the irregularly shaped, polished wooden bar has thirteen stools. There are thirteen tables in the room, placed in no specific pattern.
Therere a lot of thirteens in here, I said to myself.
It was about two thirty in the afternoon. No one was in the pub except for me and the dogoh, and Mac. Mac is a man of medium height and medium build, with thick, bony wrists and a shining smooth pate that never shows signs of growing in. He could be anywhere between thirty and fifty and, as always, he was wearing a spotless white apron.
Mouse stared intently at Mac for a moment. Then he abruptly sat down in the entryway at the top of the little stairs, turned around once, and settled down by the door, his chin on his paws.
Mac glanced toward us. Harry.
I shambled over to the bar.
Mac produced a bottle of one of his microbrews, but I shook my head. Um. Id say, Whiskey, Mac, but I dont know if you have any whiskey. I need something strong, I think.
Mac raised his eyebrows and blinked at me.
Youve got to know the guy. He was practically screaming.
But he poured me a drink of something light gold in a little glass, and I drank it. It burned. I wheezed a little, and then tapped a finger next to the glass.
Mac refilled it, frowning at me.
I drank the second glass more slowly. It still hurt going down. The pain gave me something to focus on. Thoughts started to coagulate around it, and then to crystallize into definite shape.
Susan had called me. She was on the way.
And we had a child.
And she had never told me.
Susan had been a reporter for a yellow rag that covered supernatural news. Most of the people who worked there thought they were publishing fiction, but Susan had clued in to the supernatural world on her own, and wed crossed trails and verbal swords several times before wed gotten together. We hadnt been together a terribly long timea little less than two years. We were both young and we made each other happy.
Maybe I should have known better. If you dont stand on the sidelines and ignore the world around you, sooner or later you make enemies. One of mine, a vampire named Bianca, had abducted Susan and infected her with the blood thirst of the Red Court. Susan hadnt gone all the way overbut if she ever lost control of herself, ever took anothers lifeblood, she would.
She left me, afraid that if she didnt, Id be the kill that turned her into a monster, and set out into the world to find some way to cope.
I told myself that she had good reason to do so, but reason and heart-break dont speak the same language. Id never really forgiven myself for what had happened to her. I guess reason and guilt dont speak the same language, either.
It was probably a damned good thing I had gone into shock, because I could feel emotions that were stirring somewhere deep inside me, gathering power like a storm far out to sea. I couldnt see them. I could only feel their effects, but it was enough to know that whatever was rising inside me was potent. Violent. Dangerous. Mindless rage got people killed every day. But for me, it might be worse.
Im a professional wizard.
I can make a lot more things happen than most people.
Magic and emotions are tied up inextricably. Ive been in battle before, and felt the terror and rage of that kind of place, where its a fight just to think clearly through the simplest problems. Id used my magic in those kinds of volatile circumstancesand a few times, Id seen it run wild as a result. When most people lose control of their anger, someone gets hurt. Maybe someone even gets killed. When it happens to a wizard, insurance companies go broke and theres reconstruction afterward.
What was stirring in me now made those previous feelings of battle rage seem like anemic kittens.
Ive got to talk to someone, I heard myself say quietly. Someone with some objectivity, perspective. Ive got to get my head straight before things go to hell.
Mac leaned on the bar and looked at me.
I cradled the glass in my hand and said quietly, You remember Susan Rodriguez?
He nodded.
She says that someone took our daughter. She says shell be here late tonight.
Mac inhaled and exhaled slowly. Then he picked up the bottle and poured himself a shot. He sipped at it.
