Small Favor Part 15

"Hey!" I protested. "That's a h.e.l.l of a thing to say to a man, Captain. Just because I'm calling in doesn't mean that there's some kind of crisis."

"Technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling?"

"Well. There's a crisis."

She made an mmmmmm mmmmmm sound. sound.

"A group known as the Knights of the Blackened Denarius has kidnapped Baron Marcone."

"The crime lord you took it upon yourself to a.s.sist in joining the Accords?" Luccio asked, amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice. "In what way is that relevant to the White Council?"

"These Denarian creeps are also signatories of the Accords," I said. "Marcone's retainers are crying foul. They've asked me to formally protest the abduction and summon an Emissary to resolve the dispute."

Seconds of silence ticked by.

"In what way," Luccio repeated, her voice much harder this time, "is that relevant to the White Council?"

"The Accords don't mean anything if they aren't enforced and supported," I said. "In the long run, it's in our own best interests to make sure they're supported now, before a precedent is set and-"

"Don't bulls.h.i.+t me," the captain of the Wardens snarled, a hint of an Italian accent creeping into her speech. "If we take formal action it could provoke a war-a war we simply cannot afford. We all know the Red Court is only catching its breath. We can ill afford the losses we've already taken, much less those we might a.s.sume in a new conflict."

I made sure to keep my voice steady, grim. "Mab has contacted me personally. She has indicated that it is strongly in our own best interests to intervene."

It wasn't exactly exactly a lie. I hadn't ever specified who a lie. I hadn't ever specified who we we meant. And with any luck the mention of Mab would keep Luccio's attention completely. The only reason the Red Court hadn't wiped us out in the years-long war was that Mab had given the Council right-of-way through the portions of the Nevernever under her control, allowing us wizards to stay as mobile as our opponents, who had considerably less difficulty employing mortal vehicles to maneuver its soldiery. meant. And with any luck the mention of Mab would keep Luccio's attention completely. The only reason the Red Court hadn't wiped us out in the years-long war was that Mab had given the Council right-of-way through the portions of the Nevernever under her control, allowing us wizards to stay as mobile as our opponents, who had considerably less difficulty employing mortal vehicles to maneuver its soldiery.

"Jesu Christi," Luccio spat. "She means to withdraw our right-of-way through Winter if we don't accede to her demands."

"Well," I said, "she never actually came out and said said that." that."

"Of course she didn't. She never speaks plainly at all."

"She does keep her deals, though," I pointed out.

"She doesn't make deals she can't slide out of. She's forbidden the Ways to her people but also to the Wyldfae as a gesture of courtesy. All she needs to do is relax her ban against the Wyldfae, and we'd be forced to travel in strength every time we went through the Ways."

"She's a sneaky b.i.t.c.h," I agreed. I crossed my fingers.

Luccio exhaled forcefully through her nose. "Very well. I will forward the appropriate notifications, pending approval by the Senior Council. Which Emissary would you prefer?"

"The Archive. We have a working relations.h.i.+p."

Luccio mmmmm mmmmm ed again. I heard a pencil scratching. "Dresden," she said, "I cannot stress to you enough how vital it is that we avoid general hostilities, even with a relatively small power." ed again. I heard a pencil scratching. "Dresden," she said, "I cannot stress to you enough how vital it is that we avoid general hostilities, even with a relatively small power."

Translation: Don't start another war, Harry. Don't start another war, Harry.

"But," she continued, "we can afford to lose the paths through Winter even less."

Translation: Unless you really have to. Unless you really have to.

"I hear you," I said. "I'll do my best."

"Do better," Luccio said, her tone blunt. "There are those on the Senior Council who hold the opinion that we're already fighting one war because of your incompetence."

I felt heat flush up my neck. "If they bring that up, remind them that my incompetence is the only reason they weren't all blasted to molecules by a newborn G.o.d," I shot back. "And after that, remind them that because of my incompetence, we're enjoying a cease-fire that we desperately needed to replace our losses. And after that that-"

"That is enough, Warden," the captain snapped.

I fought down my frustration and clamped my mouth shut.

Hey, we were coming up on the holidays. They're a time of miracles.

"I'll notify you when I learn something," Luccio said, and hung up the phone.

I hung up too, harder than I really needed to. I turned to find Michael and Sanya staring at me.

"Harry," Michael said quietly, "that was Captain Luccio, was it not?"

"Yeah," I said.

"You never told us that Mab threatened to go back on her bargain."

"Well, no."

Michael watched me with troubled eyes. "Because she didn't. You just lied to Luccio."

"Yeah," I said shortly. "Because I need the Council's say-so to set up the meeting. Because I've got got to set up the meeting so that the gang of murdering b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who tortured s.h.i.+ro to death will have a chance to prove to you that they've still got it coming." to set up the meeting so that the gang of murdering b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who tortured s.h.i.+ro to death will have a chance to prove to you that they've still got it coming."

"Harry, if the Council learns that you've misled them-"

"They'll probably charge me with treason," I said.

Michael rose from his seat. "But-"

I stabbed a finger at him. "The longer we delay, the longer those creeps stay in town, the longer Summer's. .h.i.t men keep coming after me, and the more likely it is that innocent people are going to get hurt in the cross fire. I've got to move fast, and the best way to get the Council to move is to let it think its own a.s.s is about to fall into the fire."

"Harry-" Michael began.

"Don't," I said. "Don't give me the speech about redemption and mercy and how everyone deserves a second chance. I'm all for doing the right thing, Michael. You know that. But this isn't the time."

"Then what is right changes because we're in a hurry?" he asked gently.

"Even your Book says that there's a time for all things," I said. "A time to heal-and a time to kill."

Michael looked from me to the corner by the back door, where the broadsword Amoracchius Amoracchius rested in its humble leather scabbard, its plain, crusader-style hilt bound in wire. "It isn't that, Harry. I've seen more of what they've done than you have. I have no qualms with fighting them, if it comes to that." rested in its humble leather scabbard, its plain, crusader-style hilt bound in wire. "It isn't that, Harry. I've seen more of what they've done than you have. I have no qualms with fighting them, if it comes to that."

"They've already blown up a building, tried to murder me, and set off a situation that nearly got your own children burned down in the cross fire. In what way has it not not come to come to that that?"

Instead of answering, Michael shook his head, took up Amoracchius Amoracchius, and walked further into the house.

I scowled after him for a minute and muttered darkly under my breath.

"You confused him," Sanya rumbled.

I glanced at the dark-skinned Knight. "What?"

"You confused him," Sanya repeated. "Because of what you did."

"What? Lying to the Council? I don't see that I had much choice."

"But you did," Sanya said placidly. He reached into the gym bag on the floor next to him and drew out a long saber, an old cavalry weapon-Esperacchius. A nail worked into the hilt declared it a brother of Michael's sword. He started inspecting the blade. "You could have simply moved to attack them."

"By myself? I'm bad, but I'm not that bad."

"He's your friend. He would have come with you. You know that."

I shook my head. "He's my friend. Period. You don't do that to your friends."

"Precisely," Sanya said. "So instead you have placed your own life in jeopardy in order to protect his beliefs. You risk your body to preserve his heart." He brought out a smooth sharpening stone and began stropping the saber's blade. "I suppose he considers it a particularly messianic act."

"That's not why I did it," I said.

"Of course it isn't. He knows that. It isn't easy for him. Usually he's the one protecting another, willing to pay the price if he must."

I exhaled and glanced after Michael. "I don't know what else I could have done."

"Da," Sanya agreed. "But he is still afraid for you." He fell quiet for a moment, while his stone slid along the sword's blade.

"Mind if I ask you something?" I said.

The big man kept sharpening the sword with a steady hand. "Not at all."

"You looked a little tense when Tessa's name came up," I said.

Sanya glanced up at me for a second, his eyes shadowed and unreadable. He shrugged a shoulder and went back to his work.

"She do you wrong?"

"Barely ever noticed me. Or spoke to me," Sanya said. "To her I was just an employee. One more face. She did not care who I was."

"This second of hers, though. The one who recruited you."

The muscles along his jawline twitched. "Her name is Rosanna."

"And she done you wrong," I said.

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause when you talk about her, your face says that you been done wrong."

He gave me a brief smile. "Do you know how many black men live in Russia, Dresden?"

"No. I mean, I figure they're kind of a minority."

Sanya stopped in midstrop and glanced at me for a pregnant moment, one eyebrow arched. "Yes," he said, his tone dry. "Kind of."

"More so than in the States, I guess."

He grunted. "For Moscow I was very, very odd. If I went out to any smaller towns when I was growing up, I had to be careful about walking down busy streets. I could cause car accidents when drivers took their eyes off the road to stare at me. Literally. Many people in that part of the world had never seen a black person with their own eyes. That is changing slowly, but growing up I was a minority the way Bigfoot is a minority. A freak."

I started putting things together. "That's the kind of thing that is bound to make a young man a little resentful."

He went back to sharpening the sword. "Oh, yes."

"So when you say that Tessa prefers to take recruits she knows will be eager to accept a coin..."

"I speak from experience," Sanya said, nodding. "Rosanna was everything that angry, poor, desperate young man could dream of. Pretty. Strong. Sensual. And she truly did not care about the color of my skin." Sanya shook his head. "I was sixteen."

I winced. "Yeah. Good age for making really bad decisions. I speak from experience, too."

"She offered me the coin," Sanya said. "I took it. And for five years the creature known as Magog and I traveled the world with Rosanna, indulged in every vice a young man could possibly imagine, and...obeyed Tessa's commands." He shook his head and glanced up at me. "By the end of that time, Dresden, I wasn't much more than a beast who walked upright. Oh, I had thoughts and feelings, but they were all slaves to my baser desires. I did many things of which I am not-" He broke off and turned his face away from me. "I did many things."

"She was your handler," I said quietly. "Rosanna. She was the one getting you to try the drugs, to do the deeds. One little step at a time. Corrupting you and letting the Fallen take control."

He nodded. "And the whole time I never even suspected it. I thought that she cared about me as much as I cared about her." He smiled faintly. "Mind you, I never claimed to be of any particular intelligence."

"Who got you out?" I asked him. "s.h.i.+ro?"

"In a way," Sanya said. "s.h.i.+ro had just driven Tessa from one of her projects in...Antwerp, I believe. She came storming into Rosanna's apartment in Venice, furious. She and Rosanna had an argument I never completely understood-but instead of leaving when I was told to do so, I stayed to listen. I heard what Rosanna truly felt about me, heard her report about me to Tessa. And I finally understood what an idiot I'd been. I dropped the coin into a ca.n.a.l and never looked back."

I blinked at him. "That must have been difficult."

"My entire life has been one of a s...o...b..ll in h.e.l.l," Sanya said cheerfully. "Though the metaphor is perhaps inverted. At the time I judged the action to be tantamount to suicide, since Tessa was certain to track me down and kill me-but s.h.i.+ro had followed her to Venice, and he found me instead. Michael-not the Chicago Michael, the other one-met us at Malta and brought Esperacchius Esperacchius, here, with him, offering me the chance to work against some of the evil I'd helped to create. From there I have been Knighting. Is good work. Plenty of travel, interesting people, always a new challenge."

I shook my head and laughed. "That's putting a positive spin on it."

"I am making a difference," Sanya said with simple and rock-solid conviction. "And you, Dresden? Have you considered taking up Fidelacchius Fidelacchius? Joining us?"

"No," I said quietly.

"Why not?" Sanya asked, his tone reasonable. "You know for what we fight. You know the good we do for others. Your cause runs a close parallel to ours: to protect those who cannot protect themselves; to pit yourself against the forces of violence and death when they arise."

"I'm not really into the whole G.o.d thing," I said.

"And I am an agnostic," Sanya responded.

I snorted. "h.e.l.l's bells. Tell me you aren't still clinging to that. You carry a holy blade and hang out with angels."

"The blade has power, true. The beings allied with that power are...somewhat angelic. But I have met many strange and mighty things since I took up the sword. If one called them 'aliens' instead of 'angels,' it would only mean that I was working in concert with powerful beings-not necessarily the literal forces of Heaven, or a literal Creator." Sanya grinned. "A philosophical fine point, true, but I am not prepared to abandon it. What we do is worthy, without ever bringing questions of faith, religion, or G.o.d into the discussion."