Grave Peril (The Dresden Files #3) - Jim Butcher Page 0,122
again, and bring them home."
"There is no shortest path, Harry," Bob said. "This is the spirit world. Things are linked together by concepts and ideas and don't necessarily adhere to physical distance like"
"I know the basics, Bob," I told him. "But the bottom line is that you know your way around here a lot better than I do. Get us there."
Bob sighed. "All right. But I can't guarantee we'll be in and out before sundown. You might not even be able to make a hole through, while the sun's still up. It tends to diffuse magical energies that"
"Bob. Save the lecture for later. Leave the wizarding to me."
The skull swung around to Michael and Thomas. "Excuse me. Have either of you told Harry what a brainless plan this is?"
Thomas raised his hand. "I did. It didn't do much good."
Bob rolled his eyelights. "It never does. So help me, Dresden, if you die I'm going to be very annoyed. You'll probably roll me under a rock at the last minute, and I'll be stuck there for ten thousand years until someone finds me."
"Don't tempt me. Less talk, more guide."
" Si, memsahib ," Bob said, seriously. Thomas snickered. Bob turned his eyelights toward the stairs leading out of the Nevernever version of my apartment. "That way," he said.
We passed out of the apartment, and into a sort of vague representation of Chicago, which looked like a stage setflat building faces with no real substance to them, vague light that could have come from sun or moon or streetlights, plus a haze of grey-brown fog. From there, Bob guided us down a sidewalk, then turned into an alley, and opened a garage door, which led to a stone-carved staircase, winding down into the earth.
We followed his lead, into the darkness. At times, the only light we had was the orange glow of the skull's eyelights. Bob turned his head in the direction required, and we passed through a subterranean region that was mostly blackness and low ceilings, eventually rising up a slope that emerged in the center of a ring of standing dolmens atop a long hill. Stars shone overhead in a fierce blaze, and lights danced in the woods at the base of the hill, skittering around like manic fireflies.
I stiffened in my boots. "Bob," I said. "Bob. You blew it, man. This is Faerie."
"Of course it is," Bob said. "It's the biggest place in the Nevernever. You can't get to anywhere without crossing through Faerie at one place or another."
"Well hurry up and cross us out," I said. "We can't stay here."
"Believe me, I don't want to hang here, either. Either we get the Disney version of Faerie, with elves and tinkerbell pixies and who knows what sugary cuteness, or we get the wicked witch version, which is considerably more entertaining, but less healthy."
"Even the Summer Court isn't all sweetness and light. Bob, shut up. Which way?"
The skull turned mutely toward what seemed to be the westernmost side of the hill, and we descended down it.
"It's like a park," Thomas commented. "I mean, the grass should be over our knees. Or no, maybe like a good golf course."
"Harry," Michael said, quietly. "I'm getting a bad feeling."
The skin on my neck started to crawl, and I looked back to Michael, nodding. "Bob, which way out?"
Bob nodded ahead, as we rounded a stand of trees. An old, colonial-style covered bridge arched up over a ridiculously deep chasm. "There," Bob said. "That's the border. Where you're wanting isn't too far past that."
In the distance, came the notes of a hunting horn, dark and clearand the baying of hounds.
"Run for the bridge," I snapped. Thomas sprinted beside me without apparent effort. I glanced at Michael, who had reversed his grip on the sword and held it pommel-first, the blade laying against his forearm as he ran. His face was twisted up in effort and pain, but he kept pace.
"Harry," Bob commented. "If it's all the same, you might want to run a bit faster. There's a hunt coming."
The horn belled again, backed up by the dolmens, and the cries of the pack rang out sharp and clear. Thomas whirled to look, running a few paces backward, before turning again. "I could have sworn they were miles away a moment ago."
"It's the Nevernever," I panted. "Distance, time. It's all fucked up here."
"Wow," Bob commented. "I hadn't realized that they grew hellhounds that big. And look, Harry, it's your godmother! Hi, Lea!"