Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8) - Jim Butcher Page 0,13

not sure they were completely in the wrong.

Like hell they werent, she snarled. I dont give a good God damn what the White Council does over in England or South America or wherever they want to hang around flapping their beards. But they came here.

Had nothing to do with you, I said. Nothing to do with the law, that is. It was internal stuff. They would have done the same to that kid, no matter where they were.

Her movements became jerky for a moment, and water splashed over the rim of the sink. Then she visibly forced herself to relax, put the stole aside, and went to work on the robe. Why do you think that? she asked.

The kid had gone in for black magic in a big way, I said. Mind-control stuff. Robbing people of their free will.

She regarded me with cool eyes. Im not sure I understand.

Its the Fourth Law of Magic, I said. You arent allowed to control the mind of another human. Buthellip; hell, its one of the first things a lot of these stupid kids trythe old Jedi mind trick. Sometimes they start with maybe getting homework overlooked by a teacher or convincing their parents to buy them a car. They come into their magic when theyre maybe fifteen or so, and by the time theyre seventeen or eighteen theyve got a full -grown talent.

And thats bad?

A lot of times, I said. Think about how men that age are. Cant go ten seconds without thinking about sex. Sooner or later, if someone doesnt teach them otherwise, theyll put the psychic armlock on the head cheerleader to get a date. And more than a date. And then more girls, or I guess other guys if Im going to be PC about it. Someone else gets upset about losing a girlfriend or a daughter getting pregnant and the kid tries to fix his mistakes with more magic.

But why does that mandate execution? Murphy asked.

Ithellip; I frowned. Getting into someones mind like that is difficult and dangerous. And sooner or later, while youre changing them, you start changing yourself, too. You remember Micky Malone?

Murphy didnt exactly shudder, but her hands stopped moving for a minute. Micky Malone was a retired police officer. A few months after hed gotten out of the game, an angry and vicious spiritual entity had unleashed a psychic assault on him, and bound him in spells of torment to boot. The attack had transformed a grandfatherly old retired cop into a screaming maniac, totally out of control. Id done what I could for the poor guy, but it had been really bad.

I remember, Murphy said quietly.

When a person gets into someones head, it inflicts all kinds of damagesort of like what happened to Micky Malone. But it damages the one doing it, too. It gets easier to bend others as you get more bent. Vicious cycle. And its dangerous for the victim. Not just because of what might happen as a direct result of suddenly being forced to believe that the warlock is the god-king of the universe. It strains their psyche, and the more uncharacteristically theyre made to feel and act, the more it hurts them. Most of the time, it devolves into a total breakdown.

Murphy shivered. Like those office workers Mavra did it to? And the Renfields?

A flash of phantom pain went through my maimed hand at the memory. Exactly like that, I said.

What can that kind of magic do? she asked, her voice more subdued.

Too much. This kid had forced a bunch of people to commit suicide. A bunch more to commit murder. Hed turned a whole gang of people, most of them his family, into his personal slaves.

My God, Murphy said quietly. Thats hideous.

I nodded. Thats black magic. You get enough of it in you and it changes you. Stains you.

Isnt there anything else the Council can do?

Not when the kid is that far gone. Theyve tried it all, I said. Sometimes the warlock seemed to get better, but they all turned back in the end.

And more people died. So unless someone on the Council takes personal responsibility for the warlock, they just kill them.

She thought about that for a moment. Then she asked, Could you have done that? Taken responsibility for him?

I shifted uncomfortably. Theoretically, I guess. If I really believed he could be salvaged.

She pressed her lips together and stared at the sink.

Murph, I said, as gently as I knew how. The law couldnt handle someone like that.