Cold Days (The Dresden Files #14) - Jim Butcher Page 0,193

in plastic. I tossed it at the wall, and when it touched, it was destroyed. It didn’t go violently. It simply became a flicker of softly glowing light in the precise shape of the bar of “food.”

Then it was gone.

“That also was pretty,” Thomas noted. “In a completely lethal kind of way.”

“Look who’s talking,” Molly said.

“It’s not all that high,” he said. “Maybe I could jump it.”

“Molly,” I said.

She passed me another granola bar, and I threw it over the wall.

The wall destroyed it in midair.

“Maybe not,” Thomas said.

“Okay,” Karrin said. “So . . . How do we get through it?”

I thought about it for a second. Then I licked my lips and said, “We don’t. I do.”

“Alone?” Thomas said. “Sort of defeats the point of bringing us. Also, death. Bad plan.”

“I think it will let me through,” I said.

“You think?”

“Look,” I said. “Me and the island are . . . kind of partners.”

“Oh, right,” Thomas said. He looked at Karrin and said, “Harry’s a geosexual.”

Karrin arched an eyebrow and gave me a look.

“You can’t go alone,” Molly said, her voice worried.

“Looks like it’s the only way I can go,” I said. “So we do this Ulysses-style. I go in, I figure a way to let down the gate and then we sack Troy.”

“Can you do that?” Karrin asked.

I licked my lips and looked at the wall of light. “I’d better be able to.”

“You’re tired,” Molly said.

“I’m fine.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

Were they? They were. “They are fine also.”

I didn’t feel tired. Given how much magic I’d been throwing around this day, I should have been comatose with fatigue hours ago, but I just didn’t feel it. That wasn’t a good sign. Maybe Butters had been right: No matter how much juice I got from the mantle of Winter, bodies have limits. I was pushing mine.

I passed the Winchester to Thomas and took off my new duster. At his lifted eyebrow, I said, “Not of the island. Hold ’em for me.”

He exhaled and took them. “No reruns, okay?”

“Pfft,” I said. “Be like sneaking into the movies.”

Karrin touched my arm. “Just don’t say that you’ll be right back. You’ll jinx it.”

“I am a professional wizard,” I said. “I know all about jinxes.”

Having said that, I checked to make sure my shirt wasn’t red. It wasn’t. Then I realized I was putting this off because if I was wrong, I was about to go join Yoda and Obi-Wan in blue-light country. So I took a deep breath and strode forward into the beautiful, deadly barrier.

Chapter

Forty-seven

I lived.

Just in case anyone was wondering.

I stepped through and the liquid light poured over me like warm syrup. There was a little bit of a tingle as it passed over the surface of my body, and then it was gone.

As were my clothes. Like, completely.

I had sort of hoped that they would stay—the way Superman’s unitard stays mostly invincible because it’s really close to his skin. Plus I hadn’t felt like stripping in front of everyone for something so relatively trivial as preserving my garage-sale wardrobe and, more important, I didn’t think I had time to start playing Mr. Rogers while someone screwed around with my island. City to save. Check out my focus.

Of course . . . going into battle full commando could be problematic.

On the other hand, every single time Mab had come at me during my recovery—every time—I’d been just like this, without resources of any kind except what I carried within me. I wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. Had she been trying only to strengthen me generally? Or had she been preparing me for this exact situation?

Could Mab see that far ahead? Or was this simply a case of superior preparedness proving itself in action? What was it I’d heard in a martial arts studio at some point? Learn to fight naked and you can never be disarmed. Which is fine, I guess, as long as there aren’t mosquitoes.

I got low and stayed still and opened my senses.

First thing: I was inside a ritual circle, one that was currently functioning, being used for a spell. It wasn’t the cheap and quick kind I was used to, I guessed, or it would have been broken when I crossed it. Maybe it had kept its integrity because as part of the island, I already existed on either side of the circle. There were certain creatures who could move back and forth across boundaries like that without disturbing them in the slightest—most notably the common cat.