“I will be more than happy to do all in my power to aid you,” Lily said.
Charity closed her eyes. “Thank you.”
“It will not be as much help as you might desire,” Lily told her, her voice serious. “I dare not directly strike at the servants of Winter acting in lawful obligation to their Queen, except in self-defense. Were I to attack, the consequences could be grave, and retaliation immediate.”
“Then what can you do?” Charity asked.
Lily opened her mouth to answer, but then said, “The wizard seems to have something in mind.”
“Yep,” I said. “I was just coming to that.”
Lily smiled at me and bowed her head, gesturing for me to continue.
“This is where they took the girl across,” I told Lily. “Must be why they attacked Pell first-to make sure the building was shut down and locked up, so that they would have an immediate passage back, if they needed it. I’m also fairly sure they left some guardians behind.”
Lily frowned at me and walked over to the building. She touched it with her fingers, and her eyes closed. It took her less than a tenth of the time it had me, and she never moved from the spot. “Indeed,” she said. “Three lesser fetches at least. They cannot sense us yet, but they will know when anyone enters, and attack.”
“I’m counting on it,” I said. “I’m going to go in first and let them see me.”
Fix lifted his eyebrows. “At which point they tear you to bits? This is a craftier plan than I had anticipated.”
I flashed him a grin. “Wouldn’t want you to feel left out, Fix. I want Lily to hold a veil over everyone else. Once the fetches show up to rip off my face, Lily drops the veil, and the rest of you drop them.”
“Yeah, that’s a much better plan,” Fix drawled, his fingertips tracing over the hilt of his sword. “And I can cut up vassals of Winter, so long as it is no inconvenience to you, of course, m’lady.”
Lily shook her head. “Not at all, sir Knight. And I will be glad to veil you and your allies, Lady Charity.”
Charity paused and said, “Wait a minute. Do I understand this situation correctly? You are not allowed to assist Harry, but because Harry has… what? Passed his debt to me?”
“Banks buy and sell mortgages all the time,” I said.
Charity arched a brow. “And because he’s given me your debt to him, you’re doing whatever you can to help?”
Fix and Lily exchanged a helpless glance.
“They’re also under a compulsion that prevents them from directly discussing it with anyone,” I filled in. “But you’ve got the basics right, Charily.”
Charity shook her head. “Aren’t they going to be in trouble for this? Won’t… who commands her?”
“Titania,” I said.
Charity blinked at me, and I could tell she’d heard the name before. “The… the Faerie Queen?”
“One of them,” I said. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. “I don’t… enough people are already in danger.”
“Don’t worry about us, ma’am,” Fix assured her, and winked. “Titania has already laid down the law. We’ve obeyed it. Not our fault if what she decreed was not what she wanted.”
“Translation,” I said. “We got around her fair and square. She won’t like it, but she’ll accept it.”
“Oh yeah,” Thomas muttered under his breath. “This isn’t coming back to bite anyone in the ass later.”
“Ixnay,” I growled at him, then turned and walked toward the theater’s rear entrance. I took up my staff in a firm grip and put its tip against the chains holding the door shut. I took a moment to slow my breathing and focus my thoughts. This wasn’t a gross-power exercise. I wouldn’t have to put nearly as much oomph into shattering the chain if I kept it small, precise, focused. Blasting a door down was a relatively simple exercise for me. What I wanted here was to use a minimum of power to snap a single link in the chain.
I brought my thoughts to a pinpoint focus and muttered, “Forzare.”
Power lashed through the length of the staff, and there was a hiss and a sharp crack nearly as loud as a gunshot. The chain jumped. I lowered my staff, to find one single link split into two pieces, each broken end glowing with heat. I nudged the heated links to the ground with the tip of my staff, faintly surprised and pleased with how little relative effort it had taken.
I reached out and tried the doorknob.
Locked.
“Hey, Murph,” I said. “Look at that zeppelin.”
I heard her sigh and turn around. I popped a couple of stiff metal tools out of my duster’s pocket and started finagling the lock with them. My left hand wasn’t much help, but it was at least able to hold the tool steady while my right did most of the work.
“Hey,” Thomas said. “When did you get those?”
“Butters says it’s good for my hand to do physical therapy involving the use of manual dexterity.”
Thomas snorted. “So you started learning to pick locks? I thought you were playing guitar.”
“This is simpler,” I said. “And it doesn’t make dogs start howling.”
“I might have killed you if I’d heard ‘House of the Rising Sun’ one more time,” Thomas agreed. “Where’d you get the picks?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Murphy and said, “Little bird.”
“One of these days, Dresden,” Murphy said, still stubbornly faced away.
I got the tumblers lined up and twisted with slow, steady pressure. The dead bolt slid to, and I pulled the door slightly ajar. I rose, put the tools away, and took up my staff again, ready for instant trouble. Nothing happened for a moment. I Listened at the door for half a minute, but heard not a sound.
“All right,” I said. “Here we go. Everyone ready to-”
I glanced over my shoulder and found the parking lot entirely empty except for me.
“Wow,” I said. “Good veil, Lily.” Then I turned back around just as if my nerves weren’t jangling like guitar strings and said, “Ding, ding. Round one.”
Chapter Thirty-five
I kicked the door open, staff held ready to fight, and shouted, “And I’m all outta bubble gum!”
The pale grey light of the overcast sunrise coming in over the lake showed me a service corridor, the kind with walls that have marks and writing all over them, floors with the paint chipped off all down the middle of the walkway, and lots of stuff stacked up here and there. At the far end of the hallway was a door, propped open with a rubber wedge. A worn sign on the door read EMPLOYEES ONLY. A curtained doorway about halfway down the hall opened onto what must have been the concessions counter in the little theater’s lobby.
Silence reigned. Not a single light shone within.
“Guess you had to see that one,” I said to the empty building. “John Carpenter. Rowdy Roddy Piper. Longest fight scene ever. You know?”
Silence.
“Missed that one, huh?” I asked the darkness.
I stood there, hoping the bad guys would make this one easy. If they charged me, I could duck aside and then let my concealed allies take them apart. Instead, as bad guys so often do, they failed to oblige me.
I started to feel a little silly just standing there. If I went ahead, the narrow passage would negate the participation of those now lurking in veiled ambush behind me. But had I really been alone, the hallway would have been as reasonable a fighting position as I could hope to gain-no way for the fetches to encircle me, no way to use their advantage of numbers. Had I really been alone, I would have needed to jump on an opportunity like that. There are stupid faeries, but fetches aren’t among them. If I didn’t behave like a lone wolf come to party, it would tip off the presence of my entourage.