Home > Turn Coat (The Dresden Files #11)(80)

Turn Coat (The Dresden Files #11)(80)
Author: Jim Butcher

Georgia glanced at the couple sitting beside Andi's bed, holding each other's hands. "I know. It would be cruel to offer false hope, but..."

"But you're still irrationally angry that the docs haven't saved her yet. You know better, but you're upset anyway."

She nodded. "Yes. Irrationality is not something I'm comfortable with."

"It isn't irrational," I said. "It's human."

She gave me a small smile. "Will and I talked. And you're in a hurry."

I nodded. "I need you both, and right now."

"I'll get him," Georgia said.

We took Georgia's SUV back down to the marina and arrived with ten minutes to spare on my estimated time window. I definitely wanted to be out over open water by the time members of the Council started showing up. The water wouldn't be a perfect protection from incoming magic, but it would make it a lot harder for anyone to target me solidly, and it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

"Okay," I said. "You guys wait here for a minute."

Will frowned. "Why?"

"I need to talk to someone who can be a little shy around strangers. One minute." I hopped out of the SUV and walked down the rows of cars until I found two vans parked together. I slipped between them, put the fingers of one hand to my lips, and let out a sharp whistle.

There was a whirring sound and Toot-toot streaked down from overhead, came to a hover in front of me, drew his little sword, and saluted. "Yes, my liege!"

"Toot, I have two missions for you."

"At once, my lord!"

"No, I want you to do them one at a time."

Toot lowered his sword, his expression crestfallen. "Oh."

"First, I want you to find the boat out on the lake that my apprentice is in. She's not more than a mile or two from shore." I took off my silver pentacle amulet, wrapped the chain around it, and handed it to Toot-toot. "Leave this where she will notice it right away."

Toot accepted the amulet gravely, tucking it under one arm. "It will be done."

"Thank you."

Toot-toot's chest swelled out, and he stood a little bit straighter.

"Second," I told him. "I need to know how many of the little folk you could convince to join the Guard for one night."

He frowned and looked dubious. "I don't know, Lord Harry. The pizza ration is already stretched as far as it can go."

I waved a hand. "The Guard's pay won't change. I'll order extra to pay for the new guys' service. Call them the Za-Lord's Militia. We only need them sometimes. How many do you think would agree to that?"

Toot buzzed in an excited circle. "For you? Every sprite and pixie and dewdrop faerie within a hundred miles knows that you saved our kind from being imprisoned by the Lady of the Cold Eyes! There's not a one who didn't have comrade or kin languishing in durance vile!"

I blinked at him. "Oh," I said. "Well. Tell them that there may be great danger. Tell them that if they wish to join the Militia, they must obey orders while they serve. And I will pay them one large pizza for every fourscore volunteers."

"That's less than you pay the Guard, Harry," Toot said smugly.

"Well, they're amateurs, not full-time veterans like you and your men, are they?"

"Yes, my lord!"

I looked at him seriously. "If you can recruit a Militia and if they perform as asked, there's a promotion in it for you, Toot."

His eyes widened. "Does it come with cheese in the crust and extra toppings?"

"It isn't a pizza." I said. "It's a promotion. Get this work done, and from that time forward, you will be..." I paused dramatically. "Major-General Toot-toot Minimus commanding the Za-Lord's Elite."

Toot's body practically convulsed in a spasm of excitement. Had a giant yellow exclamation point suddenly appeared in the air over his head, I would not have been surprised. "A Major-General?"

I couldn't resist. "Yes, yes," I said solemnly. "A Major-General."

He let out a whoop of glee and zipped up and down the little space between vans. "What do you wish us to do when I have them, my lord!"

"I want you to play," I said. "Here's what we're going to do..."

I rejoined Will and Georgia, and ten minutes later, the Water Beetle came chugging back toward the marina. The grasshopper got my brother's boat into dock with only a mildly violent impact. I secured lines quickly, and Will and Georgia jumped on. Almost before Will's feet were on the deck, I was already untying the lines and following them onto the boat. Molly, for her part, already had the engine in reverse.

"Now what?" she called down to me from the wheel atop the cabin.

"Use the compass on the dashboard. One to two degrees south of due east, and call me when you spot the island."

"Aye aye!"

Will squinted at Molly and then at me. " 'Aye aye'?"

I shook my head sadly. "Landlubbers. I'm going to go shiver timbers or something. I haven't slept in a while."

"Go ahead, Harry," Georgia said. "We'll wake you if anything happens."

I nodded, shambled down to the second bunk, and passed out immediately.

Someone shook me two seconds later and I said, "Go away."

"Sorry, Harry," Will said. "We're here."

I said several uncouth and thoughtless things, then manned up and opened my eyes, always the hardest part of waking up. I sat up, and Will retreated from the cramped cabin with a glance at Morgan's unconscious form. I sat there with my mouth feeling like it had been coated in Turtle Wax. It took me a second to identify a new sound.

Rain.

Raindrops pattered onto the deck of the boat and the roof of the cabin.

I shambled out onto the deck, unconcerned about the rain ruining my leather duster. One handy side effect of going through the painfully precise ritual of enchanting it to withstand physical force as if it had been plate steel was that the thing was rendered waterproof and stainproof as well-yet it still breathed. Let's see Berman's or Wilson's do that.

Sufficiently advanced technology, my ass.

I climbed up to the bridge, keeping an eye on the sky as I did. Lowering clouds of dark grey had covered the sky, and the rain looked to be a long, steady soaker-a rarity in a Chicago summer, which usually went for rough-and-tumble thunderstorms. The heat hadn't let up much, and as a result the air was thick and heavy enough to swim through.

I took the wheel from Molly, oriented myself by use of the compass and the island, now only a few minutes away, and yawned loudly. "Well. This makes things less pleasant."

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