as the fairy tales, Celtic songs, and certain strains of Wicca refer to it—gradually powering up the energy it required to operate. I realized that I had forgotten to make the floor out of anything specific, in my head, and the notional floor space, from horizon to horizon, suddenly became the linoleum from my first ratty Chicago apartment. Hideous stuff, green lines on a grey background, but simple to envision.
I imagined performing the spell without ever moving my body, envisioned every last detail, everything from the way the floor dug unpleasantly into my knees as I began to the slight clumsiness in the fingers of my left hand, which always seemed to be a little twitchy whenever I got nervous.
I closed the circle. I gathered the power. And then, when all was prepared, when I held absolutely everything in my imagination so vividly that it seemed more real than the room around me, I slid Power into my voice and called quietly, “Uriel, come forth.”
For a second, I couldn’t tell whether the soft white light had appeared only in my head or if it was actually in the room. Then I realized that it stabbed at my eyes painfully. It was real.
I kept the spell going in my head, easier now that it was a tableau. I just had to keep my concentration focused.
I squinted into the light and saw a tall young man there. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and a farmer’s duck coat. His blond hair fell over his eyes, but they were blue and bright and guileless as he looked around the room. He stuck his hands into his coat pockets and nodded slowly. “I was wondering when I’d get this call.”
“You know what’s happening, then?” I asked.
“Yes, yes,” he answered, with perhaps the slightest bit of impatience in his tone. He turned his gaze to me and frowned abruptly. He leaned forward slightly, peering at me.
I carefully fortified and maintained the image of the restraining magical circle in my imagination. When an entity was called forth, the circle was the only thing protecting the caller from its wrath.
“Please, Dresden,” the archangel Uriel said. “It’s a very nice circle, but you can’t honestly think that it’s any kind of obstacle to me.”
“I like to play it safe,” I said.
Uriel let out a most unangelic snort. Then he nodded his head and said, “Ah, I see.”
“See what?”
He paused and said, “Why you called me, of course. Your back.”
I grunted. It was more effort than usual. “How bad is it?”
“Broken,” he said. “It’s possible that, as a wizard, your body might be able to knit the ends back together over forty or fifty years. But there’s no way to be sure.”
“I need it to be better,” I said. “Now.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have climbed that ladder in your condition.”
I let out a snarl and tried to turn toward him. I just sort of flopped a little. My body never left the surface of the backboard.
“Don’t,” Uriel said calmly. “It isn’t worth getting upset over.”
“Not upset?!” I demanded. “My little girl is going to die!”
“You made your choices,” Uriel told me. “One of them led you here.” He spread his hands. “That’s a fair ball, son. Nothing to do now but play it out.”
“But you could fix me if you wanted to.”
“My wishes have nothing to do with it,” he said calmly. “I could heal you if I were meant to do so. Free will must take precedence if it is to have meaning.”
“You’re talking philosophy,” I said. “I’m telling you that a child is going to die.”
Uriel’s expression darkened for a moment. “And I am telling you that I am very limited in terms of what I can do to help you,” he said. “Limited, in fact, to what I have already done.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Soulfire. Just about killed myself with that one. Thanks.”
“No one is making you use it, Dresden. It’s your choice.”
“I played ball with you when you needed help,” I said. “And this is how you repay me?”
Uriel rolled his eyes. “You tried to send me a bill.”
“You want to set a price, feel free,” I said. “I’ll pay it. Whatever it takes.”
The archangel watched me, his eyes calm and knowing and sad. “I know you will,” he said quietly.
“Dammit,” I said, my voice breaking. Tears started from my eyes. The colors and lines in my imagination began to blur. “Please.”
Uriel seemed to shiver at the sound of the word. He turned his face from