T homas stood watch over our sleeping beauties while I went inside to talk with Michael and Sanya at the Carpenter kitchen table.

I laid all the cards down. See above regarding the general futility of lying to Knights of the Cross-and besides, they’d both more than earned my trust. It didn’t take me very long.

“So,” I said, “I think we’ve got to move fast, and get Marcone away from them before he’s forced to join up.”

Michael frowned and folded his broad, work-scarred hands on the table before him. “What makes you think he’s going to tell them no?”

“Marcone’s scum,” I said. “But he’s his own scum. He doesn’t work for anyone.”

“You are sure?” Sanya asked, frowning thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” I said. “I think that’s why they wanted to grab Hendricks and Gard instead of killing them. So they could force him to take the coin or they’d kill his people.”

Michael grunted. “It’s a frequently used tactic.”

“Not for Tessa,” Sanya said, his voice absolutely certain. “She prefers to find those already well motivated to accept a coin. She regards their potential talents as a secondary factor to raw desire.”

Michael acceded the point with a nod. “Which would mean that Tessa isn’t giving the orders.”

Sanya showed his teeth in a sudden, fierce grin. “Nicodemus is here.”

“Fu-” I started to swear, but I glanced at Michael and changed it to, “Fudgesicles. Nicodemus nearly killed us all last time he was in town. And he did kill Shiro.”

Both of the Knights nodded. Michael bowed his head and murmured a brief prayer.

“Guys,” I said, “I know that your first instincts tend to be to stand watch against the night, turning the other cheek, and so on. But he’s here with maybe twice the demon-power he had on his last visit. If we wait for him to come to us, he’ll tear us apart.”

“Agreed,” Sanya said firmly. “Take the initiative. Find him and hit the snake before he can coil to strike.”

Michael shook his head. “Brother, you forget our purpose. We are not given our power so that we can strike down our enemies, no matter how much they might deserve it. Our purpose is to rescue the poor souls trapped by the Fallen.”

“Nicodemus doesn’t want to be rescued,” I said. “He’s in full collaboration with his demon.”

“Which changes nothing about our duty,” he said. “Anyone, even Nicodemus, can seek redemption, no matter what they’ve done, as long as they have breath enough to ask forgiveness.”

“I don’t suppose a pair of sucking chest wounds could get us around that?” I asked him. “Because if they would, I’d be tickled to provide them.”

Sanya let out a bark of laughter.

Michael smiled, but it was brief and strained. “My point is that we can undertake such an aggressive move in only the direst of circumstances.”

“Faerie stands poised on the brink of an internal war,” I said. “Which would probably reignite the war between the Council and the Vampire Courts-and in the bad guys’ favor, I might add. One of the most dangerous men I’ve ever known is about to have involuntary access to the knowledge and power of a Fallen angel, which would give the Denarians access to major influence within the United States. Not to mention the serious personal consequences for me if they succeed in making it happen.” I looked back and forth between the two Knights, and held up one hand straight over my head. “I vote dire. All in favor?”

Michael caught Sanya’s hand on the way up, and pushed it gently back down to the table. “This isn’t a democracy, Harry. We serve a King.”

Sanya frowned for a moment, glancing at me. But then he settled back in his chair, a silent statement of support for Michael.

“You want to talk to them?” I asked Michael. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I didn’t say that,” Michael replied. “But I will not set out to simply murder them and have done. It’s a solution, Harry. But it isn’t good enough.”

I settled back in my chair and rubbed at my head with one hand. An ache was forming there. “Okay,” I said quietly, trying to make up a plan as I went along. “What if…I set up a talk? Could you be lurking nearby for backup?”

Michael sighed. “There’s a measure of sophistry in that. You know they’ll try to betray you if it seems to be to their advantage.”

“Yeah. And it’ll be their choice to do it. That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? Some way to deal with the problem while still giving them a choice about what to do? Preferably in some manner that will get as few good guys killed as possible?”

He looked pained, but Michael nodded.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll try to set it up.”

“How?” Sanya asked.

“Let me worry about that,” I said. I checked the clock on the wall. “Crap. I’m late for a meeting. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Of course,” Michael said.

I glanced around the quiet house on my way to the phone and frowned. “Where is everyone?”

“Charity took them elsewhere for a few days,” Michael said. “There won’t be school in this mess, anyway.”

I grunted. “Where’s Molly?”

Michael paused and then shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think she went with them.”

I thought about it for a moment and thought I knew where she’d be. I nodded around the kitchen. “How do you keep things running around here with Molly under the roof? I figured things would be breaking down left and right.”

“Lots and lots of preventive maintenance,” Michael replied steadily. “And about twice as much repair work as I usually do.”

“Sorry.”

He smiled. “Small price. She’s worth it.”

The reasons I like Michael have nothing to do with swords and the smiting of evil.

I got on the phone and dialed McAnally’s Pub.

“Mac,” answered Mac, the ever-laconic owner.

“It’s Harry Dresden,” I said. “Is Sergeant Murphy there?”

Mac grunted in the affirmative.

“Put a beer on my tab and tell her I’m on the way?”

Mac grunted yes again.

“Thanks, man.”

He hung up without saying good-bye.

I made another call and spoke to a humorless-sounding man with a Slavic accent. I muttered my password, so that no one in the kitchen would overhear it, but the connection was so bad that I wound up all but screaming it into the receiver. That kind of thing is to be expected when you’ve got a wizard on both ends.

It only took the Jolly Northman about ten minutes to get my call through to my party.

“Luccio,” said a young woman’s voice. “What’s gone wrong, Harry?”

“Hey!” I protested. “That’s a hell 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 sound.

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

“The crime lord you took it upon yourself to assist in joining the Accords?” Luccio asked, amusement 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 bullshit 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 assume 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 a lie. I hadn’t ever specified who 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.

“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 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 bitch,” 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 relationship.”

Luccio 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.”

Translation: 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.

“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 god,” 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 -”