to Morgan, and I started to step past him and into the theater.
He put out one broad hand to stop me. "No," he said. "Not yet. Get the dogs."
The other Warden frowned, but that was all the protest he made. He turned and slipped into the theater, and a moment later emerged, leading a pair of Wardhounds behind him.
In spite of myself, I swallowed and took a half step back from them. "Give me a break, Morgan. Im not enspelled and Im not toting in a bomb. Im not the suicidal type."
"Then you wont mind a quick check," Morgan said. He gave me a humorless smile and stepped forward.
The Wardhounds came with him. They werent actual dogs. I like dogs. They were statues made of some kind of dark grey-green stone, their shoulders as high as my own belt. They had the gaping mouth and too-big eyes of Chinese temple dogs, complete with curling beards and manes. Though they werent flesh, they moved with a kind of ponderous liquid grace, stone "muscles" shifting beneath the surface of their skins as if they had been living beings. Morgan touched each on the head and muttered something too vague for me to make out. Upon hearing it, both Wardhounds focused upon me and began to prowl in a circle around me, heads down, the floor quivering beneath their weight.
I knew theyd been enchanted to detect any of countless threats that might attempt to approach a Council meeting. But they werent thinking beingsonly devices programmed with a simple set of responses to predetermined stimuli. Though Wardhounds had saved lives often before, there had also been accidentsand I didnt know if my run-in with Mab would leave a residual signature that might set the Wardhounds off.
The dogs stopped, and one of them let out a growl that sounded soothingly akin to bedrock being ripped apart by a backhoe. I tensed and looked down at the dog standing to my right. Its lips had peeled back from gleaming, dark fangs, and its empty eyes were focused on my left handthe one Mab had wounded by way of demonstration.
I swallowed and held still and tried to think innocent thoughts.
"They dont like something about you, Dresden," Morgan said. I thought I heard an almost eager undertone to his voice. "Maybe I should turn you away, just to be careful."
The other Warden stepped forward, one hand on a short, heavy rod worn on his belt. He murmured, "Could be the injury, if hes hurt. Wizard blood can be pretty potent. Moody, too. Dog could be reacting to anger or fear, through the blood."
"Maybe," Morgan said testily. "Or it could be contraband hes trying to sneak in. Take off the bandage, Dresden."
"I dont want to start bleeding again," I said.
"Fine. Im denying you entrance, then, in accordance with"
"Dammit, Morgan," I muttered. I all but tossed my staff at him. He caught it, and held it while I tore at the makeshift bandages Id put on my hand. It hurt like hell, but I pulled them off and showed him the swollen and oozing wound.
The Wardhound growled again and then appeared to lose interest, pacing back over to sit down beside its mate, suddenly inanimate again.
I turned my eyes to Morgan and stared at him, hard. "Satisfied?" I asked him.
For a second I thought he would meet my gaze. Then he shoved my staff back at me as he turned away. "Youre a disgrace, Dresden. Look at yourself. Because of you, good men and women have died. Today you will be called to answer for it."
I tied the bandage back on as best I could and gritted my teeth to keep from telling Morgan to take a long walk off a short cliff. Then I brushed past the Wardens and stalked into the theater.
Morgan watched me go, then said to his partner, "Close the circle." He followed me into the theater, shutting the door behind him, even as I felt the sudden, silent tension of the Wardens closing the circle around the building, shutting it off from any supernatural access.
I hadnt ever actually seen a meeting of the Councilnot like this. The sheer variety of it all was staggering, and I stood staring for several moments, taking it in.
The space was a dinner theater of only moderate size, lit by nothing more than a few candles on each table. The room wouldnt have been crowded for a matinee, but as a gathering place for wizards it was positively swamped. The