Battle Ground (The Dresden Files #17) - Jim Butcher Page 0,157
of them a promise:
“If you or anyone you love is ever in danger, come and find me. If it isn’t you, tell them to show me this. I will help. No questions asked.”
Promises are a magic of their own, with a little will behind them. And when I made each one, I felt it leave a signature on the pin. I’d know it if someone tried to pass a fake one on me.
After that, I tried to give a speech about Murph.
“Karrin Murph—” I said.
And nothing else would come out.
Butters took over, speaking a little stiffly due to his jaw, and said some things to the gathering, which they took very well. People had seen Butters in action, and word had spread. They looked at him like he was a big damned hero.
Which he was—but he didn’t see it that way, because of course he wouldn’t.
They didn’t look at me like I was a big damned hero, though.
In fact . . . mostly, people weren’t looking at me at all.
I guess people had seen glimpses of me in that fight, too. Plus I’d just incinerated a bunch of guys, in front of God and everybody. And word had gotten around.
Ever see a video clip of a shark swimming through a school of baitfish? Where the fish all make sure to stay well out of his path?
I was the shark now.
Except for a few friends, no one came within arm’s reach of me.
And . . . that suited me, somehow. I felt raw, as if my skin had been peeled off and the world was made of salt and lemon juice. Maybe a little distance was a good thing, for a while.
After Butters finished, old Father Forthill came out and spoke a gentle prayer for the dead. Then we closed up the casket and filled my open grave. I had my tombstone removed and replaced with one that simply read, THEY DEFENDED CHICAGO, and the month and year.
I was the last one at the grave.
Except for Michael. My friend wore a waterproof overcoat and fedora. I’d shown up in shirtsleeves. I hadn’t even brought an umbrella. Back before the Winter mantle, I’d have been shivering. Now the rain felt nice on my bruises.
Michael stood with me in comfortable silence, waiting.
“Marcone was right,” I said quietly.
Michael frowned. He said nothing.
“Marcone built a base of power,” I said. “He prepared for this. If he hadn’t, the city would have fallen. Period. I would never have succeeded without him.”
“What are you saying, Harry?” Michael asked gently.
“I can do more,” I said quietly. “I need to do more.”
“Like Marcone has?” Michael asked.
“Somehow,” I said quietly. “I don’t think I could do it his way. Too many suits.”
“Corporate thug doesn’t really fit you,” Michael agreed. “What did you have in mind?”
“Wizard of Chicago?” I suggested.
“Good to stick with what you know,” Michael said. “But you’re talking about more, aren’t you?”
I was quiet for moment, looking down at the rain splashing on the casket.
“Do you know why I wanted Murph to stay out of the fight?” I asked.
“Because you’d given up on her,” Michael said.
“No, it was because I’d given up on . . . Oh, yes.” I cleared my throat. “On some level, I had written her off. I knew I was going to be out there without her watching my back.”
Die alone, whispered a voice in my memory.
“She didn’t agree with your assessment,” Michael noted.
“No,” I said quietly. “She had, you know. Hope. Faith. That what she was doing was right and necessary and worth it.” I squinted at him. “Death isn’t when your body stops working. It’s when there’s no more future. When you can’t see past right now, because you stopped believing in tomorrow.” I shrugged. “There should be a place where people can borrow a little hope and faith when they’re running low.”
My friend’s eyes wrinkled at the corners. “Oh, I’d say there’s one or two.”
“Well. You folks talk to a lot of people. But not everyone speaks in the same language. Maybe there’re folks who just wouldn’t understand what you’ve got to say. Maybe they need to hear it from someone like me.”
Michael smiled and said, “The Almighty gave each of us our own utterly unique voice. Surely there’s a lesson to be learned there.”
“Will you help me?” I asked.
“Always,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “I think I’m going to need a carpenter.”
His face slowly brightened over the course of a moment, a deep, intense satisfaction radiating from him. It was like