Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files 8)

I ate my sandwiches. Then I went looking for Charity.

I found her in the chapel, sitting up high in the balcony. She stared down at the altar, and did not react when I came up the steps to her and settled down on the bench beside her. I sat with her in silence for a minute.

"Charity," I whispered. "I need to ask you something."

She sat in stony silence. Her chin moved a fraction of a degree up and down.

"How long?" I murmured.

"How long since what?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "How long has it been since you've used your magic?"

Chapter Thirty-two

I couldn't have gotten more of a reaction if I'd shot her. Charity's face turned sheet white, the blood draining from it. She froze in place grasping the edge of the wooden pew in front of her with both hands. Her knuckles turned white, and the wood creaked. She gnashed her teeth and bowed her head.

I didn't push. I waited.

She opened her eyes again, and she wasn't hard to read. Her thoughts and emotions were clear on her face. Panic. Desperation. Self-loathing. Her eyes flicked from one possibility to another. She considered denying it. She considered lying to me. She considered simply walking away.

"Charity," I told her. "Tell me the truth."

Her breathing quickened. I saw her desperation growing.

I reached out with one hand and turned her face toward me. "Your daughter needs you. If we don't help her, she's going to die."

Charity flinched and pulled away from me. Her shoulders shook with a silent sob. She fought to control her breathing, her voice, and whispered, "A lifetime."

I felt some tension ease in me. Her reaction confirmed that I was on the right track.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Just putting lots of little things together," I said. "Please, Charity. Tell me."

Her voice was rough, half strangled, as though the breath that carried her words had been tainted with something rotten. "I had some talent. It showed just before my sixteenth birthday. You know how awkward that kind of thing can be."

"Yeah," I said. "How'd your family take it?"

Her mouth twisted. "My parents were wealthy. Respectable. When they had time to notice me, they expected me to be normal. Respectable. They found it easier to believe that I was a drug addict. Emotionally unbalanced."

I winced. There were a lot of situations that could meet someone with a burgeoning magical talent. Charity's was one of the worst.

"They sent me away to schools," she said. "And to hospitals disguised as schools." She waved a hand. "I eventually left them. Just left them. I struck out on my own."

"And fell in with a bad crowd," I said quietly.

She gave me a bitter smile. "You've heard this story before."

"It isn't uncommon," I said quietly. "Who was it?"

"A... coven, of sorts, I suppose," she said. "More of a cult. There was a young man leading it. Gregor. He had power. He and the others, all young people, mixed in religion and mysticism and philosophy and... well. You've probably seen such things before."

I nodded. I had. A charismatic leader, dedicated followers, a collection of strays and homeless runaways. It rarely developed into something positive.

"I wasn't strongly gifted," she said. "Not like you. But I learned about some of what happens out there. About the White Council." The bitter smile returned. "Everyone was terrified of them. A Warden visited us once. He delivered a warning to Gregor. He'd been toying about with some kind of summoning spells, and the Wardens got wind of it. They interviewed each of us. Evaluated us. Told us the Laws of Magic, and told us never to break them if we wished to live."

I nodded and listened. She spoke more quickly now, the words coming out in a growing rush. They had been pent up a long time.

"Gregor resented it. He grew distant. He began practicing magic that walked the crumbling edges of the Council's Laws. He had us all doing it." Her eyes grew cold. "The others began disappearing. One by one. No one knew where they had gone. But I saw what was happening. I saw Gregor growing in power."

"He was trading them," I said.

She nodded once. "He saw my face, when I realized it. I was the next one to go. He came to take me away, and I fought him. Tried to kill him. Wanted to kill him. But he beat me. I remember only parts of it. Being chained to an iron post."

"The dragon," I said.

She nodded. Some of the bitterness faded from her smile. "And Michael came. And he destroyed the monster. And saved me." She looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, but she did not blink. "I swore to myself that I would leave that behind me. The magic. The power. I had... urges." She swallowed. "To do things only... only a monster would do. When Siriothrax died, Gregor went mad. Utterly mad. But I wanted to turn my power against him anyway. I couldn't think of anything else."

"Hard to do," I said quietly. "You were a kid. No real training. Exposed to some nasty uses of power."

"Yes," she said. "Without Michael, I would never have been able to leave it behind me. He never knew. He still doesn't know. He remained near me, in my life. Making sure that I was all right. And... he was such a good soul. When he smiled at me, it was like all the light in the world was shining out at me. I wanted to be worthy of that smile.

"My husband saved my life, Mister Dresden, and not only from the dragon. He saved me from myself." She shook her head. "I never touched my power again after the night I met Michael. We married soon after. And in time, the power withered. And good riddance to it."

"So when Molly's talent began to manifest," I said quietly, "you tried to get her to abandon it as well."

"I was well aware of how dangerous it could be," she said. "How innocent it could seem." She shook her head. "I did not want her exposed to the things that had nearly destroyed my life."

"But she did it anyway," I guessed. "That's what really came between the two of you. That's why she ran away from home."

Charity's voice turned raw. "Yes. I couldn't get through to her how dangerous it was. What she might be sacrificing." She made no effort to stem or hide her tears. "And you were there. A hero who fought beside her father. Used his power to help people." She let out a tired laugh. "For the love of God, you saved my life. We named our child for you. Once she realized she had the talent, nothing could keep her from it."