Cold Days (The Dresden Files 14)

"Unless they have," Bob said. "In which case, well. Kinda too late."

"Right," I said tiredly.

I had my own private purgatory full of sleeping monsters.

I had a parasite in my brain that was fixing to burst my skull on its way out of me.

My little island paradise was about to explode with enough energy to cook dark gods and Lord only knew what else hanging around under the island. That meant we were talking about a release of energy in the gigaton range. And if I didn't stop someone from doing it, the continental shelf was about to have a very bad day.

Oh, right. And I was supposed to kill an insane immortal-or else face the wrath of her mother.

And I had to do it all in the next twenty-four hours. Maybe a little less.

"And the sad part is, this actually feels like having my life back. How bent is that?"

"Harry," Bob said. "Sunrise in one hour."

"Right." I sighed and picked up the skull. I tucked him away into the messenger bag and said to Demonreach, "I'm on it."

"GOOD."

I muttered darkly under my breath and turned for the stairs, then started jogging back up them, thinking of all the problems arrayed against me.

Good thing I'd been working out.

Chapter Eighteen

Okay, for the record: That is one hell of a lot of stairs to go up.

Also for the record: I did them two and three at a time, at a run, and went to the top without stopping.

From there, I went pounding down the hillside, my feet never slipping or faltering, until I got back to the beach, moving at an easy run. The sun was rising behind me, but the solid mass of Demonreach kept it blotted out in shadow, and I could tell only by the light beginning to fill the sky.

Thomas came to his feet as I left the woods, his hands moving to his weapons automatically. I shook my head at him, never slowing down, and said, "Let's get this tub moving!"

"What did you find out?" he called. He started untying the lines and then leapt nimbly up to the deck of the Water Beetle. Molly appeared from the cabin, looking as though she'd been sleeping a few seconds before.

I ran down the dock and hopped up to the ship's deck. "A bunch of people are gonna be mad at me, I've got some kind of medical issue that's going to kill me in a while if I don't deal with it, oh, and the island's blowing up tomorrow and taking a whole lot of the country with it if I don't fix it."

Thomas gave me a steady look. "So," he said. "Same old, same old."

"I think it's nice that there are some things in this world you can rely on," I said.

My brother snorted and started the Water Beetle's engines. We backed away from the dock, and then he turned, gunned it, and headed back toward town. Like I said before, the boat isn't a racing machine, but it's got some horsepower in it, and as the sun rose properly, we were zooming over the orange-gold water, leaving a huge V-shaped wake behind us, while I stood at the front of the boat, my hands on the railing.

I felt it when the dawn broke, the way you almost always can if you stop to pay attention. Something subtle and profound simply shifted in the air around me. Even if I'd been blindfolded, I would have felt the transition, the way that the winds and currents of energy broadly known as magic began to gust and shift, driven by the light of the oncoming sun.

I wasn't close enough to any of the Ways to the realms of Faerie to be able to sense whether they had been reopened, but it made sense that they would be. Sunrise tends to disperse and dissolve patterns of magical energy-not because magic is inherently a force of the night so much as because the dawn is inherently a force of new beginnings and renewal.

Every sunrise tended to erode ongoing enchantments. A spell spread so wide that it curtained the whole of Faerie away from the mortal world would by necessity be rather thin and fragile. When the sun hit it, it would be like about a zillion magnifying glasses focusing light on old newsprint. It would blacken and wither away. My mind treated me to a gruesome little collage of images-the darkest beings of Faerie suddenly pouring forth from every creepy shadow and unsettling alley and dangerous-looking old abandoned building in the city. You'd think my mind would find better things to do, like fantasize about improbably friendly women or something.

Molly came up and stood with me, facing ahead. I looked at her obliquely. The rising sun behind us painted her hair gold but left her face lightly veiled in shadow. She didn't look young anymore.

I mean, don't get me wrong; it wasn't like her hair had gone grey and her teeth fell out. But there had always been a sense of energy and life and simple joy welling up from the grasshopper. It had been her default setting, and I hadn't realized how much I had loved that about her.

Now her blue eyes looked weary, wary. She wasn't looking at the beauty in life as much as she once had. Her eyes scanned for dangers both nearby and farther down the road, heavy with caution and made wise by pain-and they had far, far more steel in them than I had ever seen there before.

Months of training with the Leanansidhe while fighting a street war will do that.

Maybe if I'd been tougher on the grasshopper early on, it wouldn't have come as such a shock to her. Maybe if I'd focused on different aspects of her training, she would have been better prepared.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, but I was kidding myself. Molly's eyes were always going to end up like that sooner or later-just like mine had.

This business doesn't play nice with children.

"I told you," Molly said, never looking toward me. "It's in the past. Leave it there."

"You listening to my head, kiddo?"

Her mouth twitched. "Only when I want to hear the roar of the ocean."

I grinned. I liked that so much better than all the "Sir Knights" I'd been getting lately.

"How much can you tell me?" she asked.

I looked at her eyes for a moment while she stared ahead and made a decision.

"Everything," I said quietly. "But not right this second. We've got priorities to focus on first. We can get into the details after we've dealt with the immediate threat."

"Maeve?" Molly asked.

"And the island." I told her about the danger to Demonreach without going into specifics about the island's purpose. "So if I don't stop it, boom."

Molly frowned. "I can't imagine how you can stop an event from happening if you don't know who is going to do it, and both where and when it's going to happen."

"If the problem was simple and easy, it wouldn't require wizards to fix it," I said. "The impossible we do immediately. The unimaginable takes a little while."