"Looks to me like there's all kinds of things you want that you aren't going to get," I told her. I glanced at Fix and Lily, throwing a mute appeal into it.
Fix gave me an apologetic shrug and Lily sighed. "You might as well indulge her, Harry. She's as stubborn as any of us, the only one who might give you the answers you need, and she knows it."
I looked back at Maeve, who gave me that same eerie, intensely sensual smile. "Tell me, mortal. When was the last time flesh, new and strange to your hand, lay quivering beneath you, hmm?" She leaned down until her eyes were inches from mine. I could smell winter mint and something lush and corrupt, like rotted flowers, on her breath. "When was the last time you could taste and feel some little lovely's cries?"
I regarded her without any expression and said, in a gentle voice, "Technically? When I killed Aurora."
Maeve's expression flickered with an instant of uncertainty.
"You remember Aurora," I told her quietly. "The last Summer Lady. Your peer. Your equal. When she died, she'd been cut several dozen times with cold iron. She was bleeding out. But she was still trying to stick a knife in Lily. So I tackled her and held her down. She kept struggling until she lost too much blood. And then she died in the grass on the hill of the Stone Table."
Dead silence filled the whole place.
"It sort of surprised me," I said, never putting any particular emotion on the words. "How fast it happened. It surprised her, too. She was confused when she died."
Maeve only stared at me.
"I never wanted to kill her. But she didn't leave me any choice." I let the silence fill the room for a moment and stared at Maeve's eyes.
The Winter Lady swallowed and eased her weight a tiny bit away from me.
Then I gestured with one hand at the chair I still held out for her and said, "Let's be polite to one another, Maeve. Please."
She took a slow breath, soulless, inhuman eyes on mine, and then said, "I know now why Mab wants you." She straightened and gave me an odd little bow, which might have looked more courtly had she been wearing a gown. Then she sat and said, "Does the barkeep still have those sweet-lemon chips of ice?"
"Of course," I said. "Mac. Another lemonade for the Lady, please?"
Mac provided it in his usual silence. As he did, the few people who were in the place cleared out. Most of the magical community of Chicago knew the Ladies by reputation, if not on sight, and they wanted nothing to do with any kind of incident between Winter and Summer. They were safer if they were never noticed.
Hell, if I could have snuck out, I would have led the way. When I'd defeated Aurora, there had been a healthy chunk of luck involved. I caught her with a sucker punch. If she'd been focused on taking me out instead of finishing her scheme, I doubt I would have survived the evening. Sure, I might have stared Maeve down, but ultimately I was bluffing-trying to fool the oncoming shark into thinking I might be something that could eat it. If the shark decided to start taking bites anyhow, things would get unpleasant for me.
But this time, at least, the shark didn't know that.
Maeve waited for her lemonade, wrapped her lips idly around the straw, and sipped. Then she settled back into her seat, chewing. Crunching sounds came from her mouth. The lemonade had frozen solid when it passed her lips.
Which made me feel pretty damned smart for avoiding the whole sexual temptation issue.
Maeve looked at Lily steadily as she chewed, and then said, to me, "You know, my last Knight often dragged this one before the Court for performances. All kinds of performances. Some of them hurt. And some of them didn't. Though she still cried out prettily enough." She smiled, her tone polite and conversational. "Do you remember the night he made you dance for me in the red shoes, Lily?"
Lily's green eyes settled on Maeve, calm and placid as a forest pool.
Maeve's smile sharpened. "Do you remember what I did to you after?"
Lily smiled, a tired little expression, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Maeve. I know how much pleasure you take in gloating, but you can't hurt me with that now. That Lily is no more."
Maeve narrowed her eyes, and then her gaze shifted to Fix. "And this one. I've seen this little man weeping like a child. Begging for mercy."
Fix sipped at his lemonade and said, "For the love of God, Maeve. Would you give the Evil Kinkstress act a rest? It gets tired pretty fast."
The Winter Lady let out an exasperated breath, put down her drink, and folded her arms sullenly across her chest. "Very well," Maeve said, her tone petulant. "What is it you wish to know, wizard?"
"I'd like to know why Mab hasn't been striking back at the Red Court after they trespassed on Sidhe territory during the battle last year."
Maeve arched a brow at me. "That is knowledge, and therefore power. What are you prepared to trade for it?"
"Forgetfulness," I said.
Maeve tilted her head. "I can think of nothing in particular I would like to forget."
"I can think of something you want me to forget, Maeve."
"Can you?"
I smiled, with teeth. "I'd be willing to forget what you did at Billy and Georgia's wedding."
"Pardon?" Maeve said. "I don't seem to recall being present."
She knew the score. She knew that I knew it, too. Her legality pissed me off. "Of course," I replied. "You weren't there. But your handmaiden was. Jenny Greenteeth."
Maeve's lips parted in sudden surprise.
"I saw through her glamour. Didn't you know who shut her down?" I asked her, lifting my own eyebrows in faux innocence. "That was petty cruelty, Maeve, even for you. Trying to ruin their marriage."
"Your wolf children did me a petty wrong," Maeve replied. "They killed a favorite hireling of the Winter Court."
"They owed their loyalty to Dresden when they killed the Tigress," Lily murmured. "Even as did the Little Folk he used against Aurora. They acted with his consent and upon his will, Maeve. You know our laws."
Maeve gave Lily a dirty look that was almost human.
"For what happened that night, they were mine." I put my hands flat on the table and leaned a little toward Maeve, speaking with as much quiet intensity as I could. "I protect what is mine. You should know that by now. I have lawful reason for a quarrel with you."
Maeve's attention moved back to me, and her expression became remote and alien. "What is it you propose?"
"I'm willing to let things go as they are, all accounts settled, in exchange for an honest answer to my question." I settled back in my chair and asked, "Why hasn't Winter moved against the Red Court?"
Maeve regarded me with an odd little twinkle in her eye, then nodded and said, "Mab has not allowed it."
Fix and Lily traded a quick look of surprise.
"Sooth," Maeve said, nodding, evidently enjoying their reaction. "The Queen has readied her forces to strike at Summer, and has furthermore given specific orders preventing her captains from conducting operations against the Red Court."
"That's madness," Lily said quietly.
Maeve folded her hands on the table, frowning at something far away, and said, "It may well be. Dark things stir in Winter's heart. Things even I have never before seen. Dangerous things. I believe they are a portent."
I tilted my head a little, focused on her. "How so?"
"What Aurora attempted was insane. Even among the Sidhe," Maeve replied. "Her actions could have thrown enormous forces out of balance, to the ruin of all."
"Her heart was in the right place," Fix said, his tone mildly defensive.
"Maybe," I told him, as gently as I could. "But good intent doesn't amount to much when the consequences are epically screwed up."
Maeve shook her head. "Hearts. Good. Evil. Mortals are always concerned with such nonsense." She abruptly rose, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Something in her expression or manner gave me a sudden sense that she was worried. Deeply, truly worried. Little Miss Overlord was frightened.
"These mortal notions," Maeve said. "Good, evil, love. All those other things your kind natter on about. Are they perhaps contagious?"
I rose with her, politely. "Some would say so," I told her.
She grimaced. "In the time since her death, I have often thought to myself that Aurora was stricken with some mortal madness. I believe the Queen of Air and Darkness has been taken by a similar contagion." She suddenly shuddered and said, voice curt, "I have answered you with truth, and more than needed be said. Does that satisfy the accounting, mortal?"
"Aye," I told her, nodding. "Good enough for me."
"Then I take my leave." She turned, took half a step, and there was a sudden gust of frozen air that knocked her mostly full glass of lemonade onto the floor. It froze in a lumpy puddle. Somewhere between tabletop and floor, Maeve vanished.
The three of us sat there quietly for a moment.
"She was lying," Fix said.
"She can't lie," Lily and I said at exactly the same moment. Lily yielded the issue to me with a gesture of her hand, and I told Fix, "She can't speak an outright lie, Fix. None of the Sidhe can. You know that."
He frowned and made a frustrated, helpless little gesture with his hand. "But...Mab? Insane?"
"It does fit with our concerns," Lily told him quietly.
Fix looked a little green around the edges. "I loved her like a sister, but Aurora's madness was bad enough. If Mab Mab sets out to send the world on a downward spiral...I mean, I can't even imagine the kind of things she could do." sets out to send the world on a downward spiral...I mean, I can't even imagine the kind of things she could do."
"I can," I said quietly. "I would suggest that you relay word of this to Titania, Lady. And take that as official concern from the Council. Please also convey the message that the Council is naturally interested in preserving the balance in Faerie. It would be of value to all of us to cooperate in order to learn more."
Lily nodded once at me. "Indeed. I will do so." She shivered and closed her eyes for a second, her expression distressed. "Harry, I'm very sorry, but the bindings on me...I stretch the bounds of my proper place."
Fix nodded decisively and rose. He took Lily's arm. "I wish we could have done more to help you."
"Don't worry about it," I said, rising politely to my feet again. "You did what you could. I appreciate it."
Lily gave me a strained smile. She and Fix departed, quick and quiet. The door never opened, but a breath later they were both gone. Mouse sat there next to the table, cocking his head left and right, his ears attentively forward, as though trying to figure that one out.
I sat at the table and sipped lemonade without much enthusiasm. More trouble in Faerie. Bigger trouble in Faerie. And I'd be willing to bet dollars to navel lint that I knew exactly which stupid son of a bitch the Council would expect to start poking his nose around in it.
I put the lemonade down. It suddenly tasted very sour.
Mac arrived. He took my lemonade. He replaced it with a beer. I flicked the top off with my thumb and put it away in a long pull. It was warm and it tasted too much, but the gentle bite of the alcohol in it was pleasant enough to make me want another.
Mac showed up with another.
Mac can sometimes be downright angelic.
"They've changed," I told him. "Fix and Lily. It's like they aren't even the same people anymore."
Mac grunted once. Then he said, "They grew up."
"Maybe that's it." I fell back into a brooding silence, and Mac left me to it. I finished the second beer more slowly, but I didn't have a lot of time to lose. I nodded my thanks to Mac, left money on the table, and took up Mouse's leash. We headed for the door.
I had other business to take care of. Nebulous maybe-threats would have to wait for the monsters I was sure would show up in a few hours. At least I'd gotten out of the whole situation without someone trying to kill me or declaring war on the Council. I'd had a civil conversation with both Lady Winter and Lady Summer and come away from it unscathed.
As I walked toward the door, though, an idle thought gnawed at me.
It had hardly been like pulling out teeth at all.
Chapter Twenty-one
I headed back for SplatterCon!!! before the afternoon was half gone, this time with my backpack of wizard toys, my staff, my blasting rod, my dog, my gun, and a partridge in a pear tree. I didn't have a concealed-carry permit for the .44, but working on the theory that it was better to have the gun and not need it than to need it and not have it, I put it in the backpack. headed back for SplatterCon!!! before the afternoon was half gone, this time with my backpack of wizard toys, my staff, my blasting rod, my dog, my gun, and a partridge in a pear tree. I didn't have a concealed-carry permit for the .44, but working on the theory that it was better to have the gun and not need it than to need it and not have it, I put it in the backpack.
When I got to SplatterCon!!!, I decided that it very well might have been better not to have the damned gun on me; there was something of a police presence in evidence.
Two patrol cars were parked in plain sight outside the hotel, and one cop in uniform stood, sweating and miserable-looking, outside the doors. As I paid off the cabby, I picked out at least two loiterers in street clothes who were paying too much attention to who and what approached the building to be casual strollers taking advantage of spots of shade outside the hotel. I clipped on my SplatterCon!!! name tag.
The cop's eyes flicked over me and I could all but see him take stock of me-tall guy, gaunt, mussed hair, dark eyes, big dog, sticks, backpack, one hand in a leather glove...and a horror convention name tag. Evidently, in this guy's head, a name tag gave you carte blanche to look weird without being threatening, because when his eyes got to that, he just traded a nod with me and waved me through.
Inside, not only was the convention in full swing, but they had added a press conference to it to boot. The conference wing outside the room where the killer struck was packed with a half circle of reporters and photographers, while industrious satellite personnel held up lights and even a couple of boom microphones. From the door I could see three more uniformed officers. Between the cops, the conference, and the passersby, that whole section of the hotel was packed with a lot of noisy people. The air-conditioning had been pushed well beyond its limits, and it was stuffy and smelled like most crowded buildings.
Mouse sneezed and looked mournful. I agreed with him.
Murphy appeared out of the crowd and made her way to me. She gave me a tight nod, and knelt down to speak to Mouse and scratch behind his ears. "How'd your meeting go?" she asked.
"Survived it. Storm clouds on the horizon." I looked around the place a minute more and said, "For crying out loud, it's a zoo."
"It gets better," Murphy said. "I've been speaking with the convention staff, and they say that since the story hit the news and the radio stations at noon, they've almost doubled the number of attendees."
"Crap," I sighed.
"There's more. Greene called in the Feds," she said.
I frowned. "Last time the Feds showed up was less than fun."
"Tell me about it." She hesitated and then said, "Rick is with them."
I blinked at her for a second, and then remembered. "Oh, right. The ex."