Battle Ground (The Dresden Files #17) - Jim Butcher Page 0,45

expression and did not flinch. Much.

“How do you do?” rumbled River Shoulders.

“Well, thank you,” said Chandler, with the flawless, reflexive courtesy you only get from a finishing school. “I understand you and Harry have worked together before?”

“Nah,” River Shoulders said. “He come and bailed me out a few times when I needed help.” He grinned. His teeth were very white. They stood out against the spatters of dark blood still on his fur. “But we did some good work tonight.”

Chandler was too refined to take an intimidated step back. But he leaned.

I had just retied one of my shoes when the order came back down the line from Ebenezar, who seemed to have de facto command of the group. Time to move ahead. I had just gotten moving again when there was a flash of violet light that streaked down the road, swept high over the group’s line, and plunged down toward me.

“My lord!” piped Major General Toot-Toot. The little fae came to a wavering hover in the air before me and saluted, grinning fiercely at me. “There is knavery afoot!”

“Talk to me, Major General,” I said, even as I broke into a jog to keep pace.

“We didn’t see them until they got there! The foe has sneakily snucked a sneak attack behind our lines, like a sneaky sneak!”

“What kind of sneak attack?”

“The sneaky kind!” Toot-Toot shouted. “They used veils and got around behind the lines and now they’re in the park, and they are Up To Something!”

I frowned. “What park?”

“Up ahead!” Toot-Toot said. “On this road! You’ll go right past it!”

My already quivery stomach got cold.

“Toot,” I said, thinking furiously and drawing out the word. “That’s . . . not a park. That’s Graceland Cemetery.”

And, dimly over the sound of all the footsteps in motion, I heard the thrumming thud of a large drum in the distance.

My eyes widened.

Hell’s bells.

I broke out of line and sprinted ahead until I reached the old man’s side. “Hey,” I said. “You hear that?”

Ebenezar glanced at me, frowning, but then turned his attention to the distance. “War drum?”

“No,” I said grimly. “That’s coming from Chicago’s most notorious graveyard. Toot says they slipped in under veils.”

“Necromancy,” he spat. “Stars and stones. How many zombies could they get out of it?”

“About fifty hectares’ worth of zombies?” I said, a little exasperated. “A lot. And they’d swarm Marcone’s people in minutes.”

The old man snarled. Necromancy is the gift that keeps on giving. The same spell that animated corpses could be expanded to sweep up freshly made bodies as well. New corpses weren’t as good for the work, but they’d be more than a match for the citizenry. It would mean death in a geometric progression.

The old man scowled furiously for maybe half a minute. I let him think. It’s important to think when things are going crazy, if you want to take the smartest action to get them sane again.

“Okay, Hoss,” he said heavily. “We don’t know how strong these practitioners are. But we know what’s going to happen to our allies if we don’t support them. So I’m taking the big guns ahead to relieve the pressure on the troops.”

“Got it,” I said.

He spoke in the slightly heavy tones of someone who is thinking through a problem as he speaks about it. “Practitioners means the Council needs to counter them. You’ve fought necromancers before. You’ve fought in that graveyard before. You’re the best person here for the work.” He grimaced and spat. “Dammit. You’ve got the job.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Take the Wardens and the Sasquatch.”

There was a huge fluttering sound, and I let out a little shriek and flinched, and it took me a second to sort out that an absolutely enormous, shaggy old raven had swooped down and landed firmly on my shoulder.

“Um,” I said.

“Caw,” said the raven.

Ebenezar scowled. “You are just damned useless in a military situation,” he said to the raven. “No discipline at all.”

“Redneck!” cried the raven. “Caw!”

Ebenezar waved a grumpy hand at the raven. “Fine. Take the Indian, too. Silence that drum.” He put a hand on my arm and met my eyes. “Hoss. Do not pull your punches tonight.”

“That’s always been my biggest problem,” I said, spreading my hands. “All this restraint.”

I broke away from him and dropped back to the rear, where Ramirez was laboring along while the other Wardens flanked him and kept worried expressions when he wasn’t looking.

“Okay, kids,” I said. “We’ve got problems.”

I explained the situation.

“Yes!” Wild Bill said. “Necromancers!”

I eyed him. “Seriously?”

“I like shooting zombies,”

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