Mac was silent for a moment. Then he said, “No. That’s mine.”
I grunted. “Didn’t think so. I figure it’s more likely that you are an ally, or at least neutral, than it is that you’re a plant for somebody. But I’m not completely sure about you, either.”
I looked at them both and said, “I’m not sure if you’re my friends or my enemies, but I heard something once about keeping them close and closer. So until things have shaken out, you’re both staying where I can keep track of you. And you both should be aware that I’m going to be ready to smack you down if I pick up on the least little hint of treachery.”
“I am not—” Sarissa began.
I stared at her.
She bit her lip and looked away.
I turned my eyes to Mac. He didn’t look thrilled about it, but he nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll be on the lake. There are a couple more coats in the guest bedroom closet. Better grab one.”
Mac nodded and beckoned Sarissa with a tilt of his head. “Miss.”
They went to the guest bedroom, and that left me facing Murphy with the grasshopper hovering in the background. I made a little kissing noise with my puckered lips, and Mouse lifted his head from the ground.
“You pick up anything weird about either of them?” I asked.
Mouse sneezed, shaking his head, and laid it back down again.
I grunted. “Guess not.” I took a deep breath. “Grasshopper, maybe it’s good time to take Mouse for a W-A- L-K?”
Mouse’s head snapped up.
Molly looked back and forth between Karrin and me and sighed. “Yeah, okay.”
“Maybe take those two with you when you go? And have security bring the car around, too. We’ll leave shortly.”
“Right,” Molly said. She collected Mac and Sarissa, now clad in badly fitting secondhand coats, and they left.
It was just me and Karrin.
The fire crackled.
Karrin said, “You picked up Mouse. Did you get to see Maggie?”
“Christ, everyone wants to know about . . .” I shook my head. “She was out.”
She nodded. “Did you get out of the car? Or just wait at the curb?”
I gave her a flat stare. She looked back at me with her cop face. I failed to terrify her off the subject.
“Curb,” I said.
She smiled faintly. “I’ve seen you walk into places that should have killed you seven, eight times? You didn’t flinch. But now you’re petrified with fear?”
“Not fear,” I said, so quickly and with such vehemence that it became immediately clear to me that fear was exactly what I was feeling when I thought of approaching Maggie.
“Sure it isn’t,” Karrin said.
“Look,” I said, “we don’t have time for—”
“My dad said that a lot,” Karrin said. “‘I can’t right now. We’ll do that later.’ He was busy, too. Then he was gone.”
“I am not going to deal with this right now.”
Karrin nodded. “Right. Not right now. Later.”
“Christ,” I said.
Karrin looked down at the floor and smiled briefly, then looked back up at me. “I never liked being shrunk. Had to a couple of times. After I shot Denton. Stuff like that.”
“So?” I said.
“Some things can’t just sit inside you,” she said. “Not when . . .” She spread her hands. “Harry, you’re dealing with serious pressures here. With something that could . . . change who you are. I don’t blame you for being afraid.”
“I’ve got the Winter Knight thing under control,” I said.
“Winter Knight, Mab, whatever,” she said, as if it were an everyday annoyance. “Magic stuff, you’ll deal with it fine. I’m talking about something real. I’m talking about Maggie.”
“Oh,” I said.
“I figure it’ll take Thomas at least ten minutes to fuel the boat,” she said. “It’s been about five since he left. Which gives you five minutes with no city to save, no evil queens, and no monsters. No one to protect right in front of you, no apprentices to look strong for.”
I looked at her blankly and felt my shoulders sag. I hadn’t slept in too long. I wanted to find a nice bed somewhere and pull the covers over my head. “I don’t . . . What are you looking for, here? What do you expect from me?”
She stepped closer and took my hand. “Talk to me. Why didn’t you go see Maggie?”
I bowed my head and let my fingers stay limp. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Why not?”
I tried to speak and couldn’t. I shook my head.
Karrin stepped closer to me and took my other hand in hers, too.
“I’m right here,” she said.
“What if . . .” I whispered. “What if . . . she remembers?”
“Remembers what?”
“She was there,” I said. “She was there when I cut her mother’s throat. I don’t know if she was conscious, if she saw . . . but what if she did? In my head, I’ve run this scenario about a thousand times, and if she saw me and started screaming or crying . . .” I shrugged. “That would be . . . hard.”
“You know what’s going to be harder?” Karrin asked quietly.
“What.”
“Not knowing.” She shook my hands gently. “Leaving a hole in that little girl’s life. She’s your daughter, Harry. You’re the only dad she’s ever going to have.”
“Yeah, but if I show up and she remembers me, I’m not her father. I’m her father the monstrous villain. I’m Darth Dresden.”
“She’ll learn better,” Murphy said. “Eventually. If you try.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “I can’t . . . I can’t do anything that might hurt her. I just can’t. I barely know that little girl—but she’s mine. And I’d rather double-kneecap myself with a frying pan than bring her an ounce of pain.”
“Pain passes,” Karrin said. “If you think about it—”
“You don’t
I stopped suddenly with my mouth hanging open.
Hell’s bells, how could I have missed what the Mothers were trying to tell me?
I couldn’t bear to see my child in pain.
And maybe I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t.
“Stars and stones,” I breathed. “That’s what’s happening here.”
Karrin blinked up at me several times. “Excuse me?”
I kept thinking about it, following the logic. “That’s why Mab sent me to kill Maeve. She’s no different from Titania. She knew it needed to be done but . . .”
“But what?” Karrin asked.
“Maeve is still her little girl,” I said quietly. “Mab isn’t human, but there are . . . remnants in all the Sidhe. Mother Winter called Mab a romantic. I think this is why. Mother Summer went on and on about how humans have influenced the Sidhe. That’s what this whole thing is about.”
“I don’t understand,” Karrin said.
“Mab loves her daughter,” I said simply. “She won’t kill Maeve because she loves her.” I let out a bitter little laugh. “And there’s the kind of symmetry here that the faeries are crazy about. I killed the last Summer Lady. It’s
