luciazephyr | FIC: other things the road to hell is paved with [21/?]

jothra for the French translation!

It was just my luck that Morgan was one of the gate Wardens, guarding the entrance to the old-style theatre that the Council had sequestered themselves in. Already things were going badly. There was a very good chance I'd get decapitated before we even made it inside. Damn, damn, damn.

Morgan caught sight me of me right away. He took a moment to glare at me before he looked to my side and saw the blue-cloaked John Marcone. Morgan was regional commander for this area. He knew who John was.

I saw a cruel, victorious smile crease Morgan's mouth.

I was so screwed.

Morgan walked out to meet us, ignoring a good number of the other wizards shuffling into the meeting. He put a hand on the hilt of his sword as he reached us.

"I never took you for suicidal, warlock," he said in a loud, booming voice. Heads turned to look at the commotion. "But I shouldn't be surprised. Black magic has clearly warped your mind, turned you mad."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Morgan, really?"

Morgan drew his sword in one smooth, practiced motion and pointed it at my chest. "You are called before the Council for your war-mongering. And you bring the criminal overlord of this city. You have told him of the Council. Your treason is more blatant than ever, Dresden."

John coughed delicately. "Excuse me, Wizard Morgan. As admirable as your zeal for justice is, you cannot take punitive measures against Mr. Dresden for this charge."

Morgan twisted to snarl at him, "You do not belong here, criminal. Be silent until you are removed."

John showed his hands, palms up, then carefully grabbed his briefcase and opened it. "If you wish to act against someone for informing a non-magical mortal of certain sensitive topics, I'm afraid you'll have to bring it up with Donar Vadderung of MonOc Securities." He drew out a file folder and from that a sheet of thick paper vellum. A functional, professional letterhead adorned the top, centered around a simple emblem that reminded me of a knife pointing at an eye.

Morgan's eyes widened somewhat and he snatched the paper from John. "Where did you get this?" His tone was demanding, but under it he sounded... alarmed, or maybe even scared.

I made a note to ask John who the hell Donar Vadderung was if we survived the meeting.

"I have others like it. I maintain regular correspondence with Mr. Vadderung and the agent he assigned to me. We have a very beneficial relationship."

Morgan gave John a dark, but more respectful look before placing his hand over the thick sheet of paper and murmuring something quietly.

A snowflake watermark appeared across the page, glowing icy blue.

I felt the presence of power behind us and turned to see Ebenezar walking up, flanked by a tall, regal black woman and a man with hair braided long down his back and skin like sun-dried leather. Both wore the stoles of the Senior Council.

"Holding up the line, Hoss?" Ebenezar asked mildly. His eyes were hard on Morgan though.

"You know me, can't go anywhere without being threatened with decapitation," I jibed. Being at the mercy of Morgan's jingoist paranoia made me a bit twitchy, but I didn't think I'd get my head lopped off while Senior Council was around.

Or maybe they'd give Morgan permission to go ahead. Could go either way, but I was banking on any friends of Eb's to not be extremist crazies.

The black woman stepped forward and alighted her hand over the snowflake-emblazoned sheet. "A missive from one of the Signatories of the Accords. What is the meaning of this, Warden Morgan?"

A Signatory? I turned to John, a question on my lips. He shook his head minutely before I could ask. Yeah, let him handle things and don't mess things up for him. Surely I could pull that off. Right?

He turned to the Council member. "Warden Morgan accused Mr. Dresden of revealing the existence of the White Council to a... I believe the common term is vanilla mortal. I brought evidence of my contact with Mr. Donar Vadderung with me to show I have been briefed on matters of the supernatural by a person with right to inform and educate."

The wizardess looked back at Eb, expression dryly amused. "This is the man you spoke of, Ebenezar? Interesting." She turned back to John and inclined her head slightly. "I am the Wizard Liberty of the Senior Council and this is Wizard Listens To Wind."

John bowed. "I am honored to meet you, sir and ma'am. I'm John Marcone."

I could see the dismay on Morgan's face as things slipped out of his control. "Council members, Dresden brought this man, a well-known member of the criminal community, to this location without permission."

Liberty looked to me. "The Warden has a point, Wizard Dresden. While Mr. Marcone may have learned of the White Council through legitimate means, you shouldn't have brought him without first contacting the Wardens. He doesn't belong in our enclave."

"As I understand the situation, Mr. Dresden's life could be in danger. I am here to help him defend himself. Or do you not hold trials before excommunication and decapitation?" He played it so cool, no sign of disdain coloring his words even though he was plainly passing judgement.

Listens To Wind laughed. "He don't need magic, using words as a shield like that. You a lawyer, Marcone? Politician?"

"No," John replied. "Simply a businessman looking to protect what's mine."

Morgan snorted in clear disbelief.

Liberty cut him a cold look that had Morgan shrinking back, chastised. "As crude as the Warden's argument is, I see his point. We have no authority over your actions as they pertain to federal law, but that doesn't mean we can let such a potentially dangerous person into our inner sanctum. Too many lives are at stake."

John nodded slowly, mulling this over. Tick tick tick went his brain as he looked for a solution. "Names have meaning to your community. Perhaps an oath on my name? I solemnly swear that I, Jonathan Marcone, will do nothing to endanger this Council this day."

Listens to Wind smirked. "We might take that on face value. If that were your True Name."

Say what now? Again I boggled at John. "Your Name isn't John Marcone?"

John shook his head. "Later, Harry." Then, to the others, "Tell me what I can do to enter the chamber. There must be something."

I didn't know his name. That threw me out of the conversation, just the strangeness of that. I lived in his house, had his clothes on my back, worked so closely with him I could feel how our energies intertwined. He would drop all his masks for me, smile and laugh. I could read him so well.

I'd already spent some time wondering if he'd taste like hazelnut and coffee. But I didn't know his Name. And I didn't know he had a relationship with a member of the Accords.

I still trusted him. Maybe I shouldn't have, but that ship had sailed.

John and the Council members were still talking when I said, "I'll swear on my power." Everyone looked to me. "I swear on my power John and I will do nothing to endanger the White Council today. Will that work?"

Liberty nodded. "With some reinforcement. Wizard Dresden, do you take this man as your charge and responsibility before the Council?"

"Yeah."

She stepped forward, standing between us, and lifted her hands to place them on us, her palms against each of our foreheads. "Then I bind you together."

I felt her will coaxing against mine, a tendril of will forming and being pulled to John. She tied our auras together with subtle, strong magic. It felt like that connection that formed after we worked together for hours, but more obvious. I imagined my magic woven into a thread and looped around John's wrist. It was like that, John's aura reverberating into me. I could feel the bottomless ocean of calm, the calculations he was making, his keen awareness of everything.

It was kind of exhausting, just that piece of his spirit bound to me. I couldn't fathom what it must've been like to be him. Did he ever switch off?

John fixed me with a steady, evaluating look. He must've gotten a glimpse into my psyche as well. As if his mind-reading routine needed help, stars.

Liberty walked by us and towards the chamber. "Welcome to the White Council, Mr. Marcone," she said as farewell.

We all headed inside after that, much to Morgan's eternal dismay. Eb touched my shoulder and whispered, "Save me a seat up front," before vanishing into the crowd.

And what a crowd it was. A lot of people had shown up to this Council meeting. The room was filled with black-robed wizards of every ethnicity I could name, the buzz of many languages filling the air. There was a palpable atmosphere around us. It was like taking a bunch of cotton balls and stuffing them into a jar until they compacted. So many magical individuals in one place left the room thick with combating energies, everyone's aura pushing against everyone else's, melding and compressing into a morass of slurried willpower.

Through all that, I could feel John's will tethered to mine. The link Martha Liberty set up was strong. If I were to break my word and by doing so damage my magic, that would flow into him too, breaking his spirit. The charm laid on us was simple, but something far beyond my abilities. Senior Council members knew their stuff.

I felt a faint frisson of tense worry from John and turned to look at him. "What?"

John's face was blank as ever. "Hm?"

"Why..." I pitched my voice lower. "Why are you nervous?"

"I'm not."

"You are. I can feel it." I shut my eyes and focused on the metaphysical thread binding us, tugging it gently.

John inhaled sharply as he felt the pull. "I... Harry, I'm in a room filled with people so powerful I can feel it just walking by them. And you are my only protection here. I have much faith in your abilities, but..." He looked around. "We are quite outnumbered."

He had a point. As a vanilla mortal, he was walking into the lions' den and I'd just made an oath that tied our hands. Some anxiety on his part made sense. It was just weird to be able to feel his emotions, to finally have an idea of what he stifled and how much he kept from showing anyone.

We started drawing looks from the other Council members around us. John and I were just standing in the middle of the theatre, and the hue of John's robe was obvious, as was the fact he wasn't one of us to anyone who probed at his aura.

Given the way John's face was setting into a harder, deeper frown, I could guess he was getting poked with metaphysical sticks more and more.

They knew who I was already. Harry Dresden, black sheep of the White Council, who now brought an outsider into our sanctum.

Did I know how to make and entrance or what?

I hustled us to an empty set of chairs up front, wanting to get out from everyone's view. "God, I hope you know what you're doing, John."

He just nodded. I think he hoped he knew what he was doing too.

We'd only been sitting a few minutes when a freckled redhead in a brown cloak approached. He was a young, lanky thing and his aura vibrated and crackles like static electricity.

I looked up at Gregory Vail. "Hey, are... are you Harry Dresden?" The kid asked softly.

"Yeah, that's me. Vail, right?"

"Yeah." The boy reddened. "Do you, uh, remember me?"

"Sure do." I'd saved John from Vail when the boy had gone a little mental after his sister's death. I also was the person who reported him to the Council. He had a ton of raw power and desperately needed an apprenticeship. Judging by his brown robes, it looked like he got it. "How's it going, kid? Learning anything?"

Vail smiled faintly, biting his lip. "A lot, yeah. I... these wizards showed up at my house before I got sent away. They talked to my folks and got me shipped over to France."

I grinned. "I hear it's nice there. Paris all it's cracked up to be?"

"Oh, um, I'm... I'm in Toulouse, actually."

John sounded very amused beside me when he said, "There is more to France than Paris, Harry." He turned to regard Vail and said in lilting, elegant French, "Je tiens à vous informer que...la mort de votre sœur a été vengé."

Vail stiffened like he'd been slapped, then looked at the ground. He rubbed his hand, and I saw around his hand was a chain. His focus. It was the same pink heart necklace, reinforced with other interwoven chains of copper and silver. Eventually Vail mumbled, "Merci...je regrette que..."

"Ça ne fait rien. C'est du passé," John replied gently. "J'espère que ça vous apportera la paix."

Vail blinked hard, eyes wet and shining.

Painful, tense silence stretched for a moment before I broke in. "So, what books they teaching you with? You get to read Elementary Magic yet?"

The topic shifted to Vail's studies and how he was doing. The boy had issues with controlling his volatile lightning magic, hated potion work, and missed being able to play video games. I thought he'd be fine, given enough time. He might make a good wizard someday.

As wizards stopped streaming into the theatre, Vail was called away by his mentor and the kid slunk away. He obeyed quietly, shaking both our hands before going to sit next to the woman who'd called him.

"Good kid," I whispered. John smiled faintly in agreement. "What'd you tell him?

"That his sister's death was avenged."

Well then. I didn't know what to say to that. Good job murdering a guy? Shame on you for killing a guy who dealt to little girls? At the very least, it seemed to give Gregory Vail a measure of peace.

God, John made my life complicated. He wore grey morality like a fashion statement.

Thankfully, it was then that Ebenezar joined us and the Senior Council took their places on the theatre stage. I felt the tension in the air as the Wardens sealed the room from outside influence. The meeting had begun.

The Merlin, instantly recognizable from his long white beard and blue, clear eyes, stood and thudded his staff thrice against the floor until silence fell. The seven Senior Council members stood at their podiums, as the Merlin brought the meeting to a start. This one, despite the threat of Bianca filing a war declaration under the Accords, was not a mandatory meeting, and it started with regular pleasantries.

As the roll call started, John leaned over me, one arm along the back of my chair, to ask Ebenezar, "What are the names of the Senior Council?"

Eb leaned back towards him, talking quietly. "You got the Merlin, front and center. LaFortier and Pietrovich, who usually vote with the Merlin," he pointed to each in turn, "Ancient Mai. You know Matty and Listens to Winds. The Gatekeeper's worth playing nice with. Even the Merlin defers to him at times and he's less... political."

John eyed the Senior Council. "Noted. How does one address the Merlin and Gatekeeper?"

"Honorable Merlin. Gatekeeper doesn't need any fancy talk."

I stood for a moment when my name came up on the roll call, then sat again. "You guys want to sit next to each other or something?"

John gave me a guarded, but amused look. "Are you uncomfortable, Harry?"

I wished he wouldn't do that in front of the entire White Council. I grimaced and John backed off instantly, back into his seat. "Apologies."

"S'fine," I muttered, looking away. "I don't... Not here, though."

John nodded, then turned his attention back to the proceedings.

On my other side, Eb frowned at me. "Hoss, what in tarnation is with you and--"

"Wizard McCoy!" the register-reading wizard called.

Eb did the whole stand-nod-sit routine. "This is why I don't come to these things."

"The roll call?"

"We've got some of the most magically adept men and women in the world here, we still gotta call a damn register. Half-waiting for them to introduce tardy slips." He sighed. "You're lucky I like you, Hoss."

"I do appreciate it, sir."

"You better."

Eventually the attendance finished and the Merlin called for order again, before truly starting the session in as smooth and perfect a Latin as any Roman citizen would've had. "Assembly, our first order of business is our most grave one, and the reason this meeting was called. Margravine Bianca St. Clair of the Red Court believes she has been wronged by this Council. She demands reparations to be made to her or she will submit a declaration of war under the Accords."

An urgent murmur roiled through Council.

Eb asked John, "You getting this, boy?"

"Well enough, thank you."

The Merlin went on. "As the leader of the Red Court in this area, the Margravine has stated that her people have been jeopardized and killed. The safe havens they have cultivated have been threatened. Their secrecy is under attack." He turned to the podium next to him. "Wizard Pietrovich, our liaison with the Red Court, if you could speak on the subject?"

Pietrovich nodded solemnly. "Yes, Honorable Merlin. I have long attempted to maintain diplomatic channels with the Red Court. They are creatures as social as we are. Soon after their newest House was established, its ability to protect its people was compromised, preventing it from creating a proper foothold in the community."

I tipped my head back and whispered, "That's a roundabout way of saying they haven't gotten a chance to turn enough people into soulless blood-sucking monsters yet."

"Hoss," Eb said warningly.

"The Margravine's House is the weakest of the Court," Pietrovich said. "She feels it is in danger of being wiped out entirely, depriving her people of a home."

"What a damn shame," I muttered.

John put his foot on my toes and pressed down. I sighed and made a zipped lips gesture at him. I knew he and Eb would team up on me at some point.

Pietrovich shot us a dirty look before turning and holding out a hand to where some of the Wardens stood against the wall, observing silently. "Upon hearing this, I asked the Regional Commander of the Wardens to look into the situation to ascertain whether the White Council could be linked to these events. Warden Morgan, if you please."

Morgan stepped up to the stage, standing before the Council. He produced a candle and a crystal. He lit the former and held the latter in both hands, framed carefully in his fingers. Light from the candle drew up and into the crystal. From there, it refracted out into the air like a hologram you'd see in a sci-fi movie. It was a sphere, a representation of Earth floating in transmuted candlelight.

Morgan twisted the crystal in his fingers, like a man adjusting a telescope. The image zoomed in on North America, then Illinois, then the familiar shape of Chicago.

Color flowed into the pale yellow light. The area around Bianca's Velvet Room glowed red, fittingly enough. Splotches of it spread over the city, presumably where there was a strong Red Court presence. Over time, the red shifted. In some areas it grew. In most, it receded drastically.

Next to me, John took a pocket notebook out of his robe and started jotting down something. I leaned over to look. Businesses and street names. He was making note of where the red remained. I tried not to smirk.

Morgan reported in a low, sonorous basso about the losses the Margravine was experiencing. He concluded that rather than thriving under the wing of their new House, the Red Court was not just missing its recruitment goals but was running at a deficit.

I rubbed my fingers together. "World's smallest violin."

John's lips twitched, but he put his hand over mine, stopping me. "Not now, Harry. Tonight, dinner at Fournier."

"Mmm," I agreed. "If we don't get beheaded."

"Well, yes, obviously."

Pietrovich asked Morgan, "Have you found any evidence that would make the White Council culpable, Warden?"

Morgan's eyes found me in the front row, gaze dark and severe. John slipped his hand away from mine and tucked his notebook away. His face took a blank set, the mask on as he prepared himself. Morgan answered, "Yes, I have. Forces combating the Red Court in the Chicago area are being led by the Wizard Dresden."

The sound the assembly made then was half shocked gasps, half dark mutterings. I heard someone say, "I knew it."

"I am sure no one is truly surprised. Dresden has a history of ignoring the rules of our society," Morgan said acerbically. "The fact he could bring the fragile peace between us and the Red Court crashing down was probably part of his plan."

I sputtered and stood, anger firing through me. "Want to elaborate on my history, Morgan?" I shouted, in English. "One count of self-defense enough to damn someone now? Gosh, it's a good thing you never had to kill anyone to save your life before!"

The Merlin slammed his staff against the floor and called back in Latin, "Wizard Dresden, we are still briefing the uninformed Council on the situation. The floor is not open. Be seated and silent!"

"Harry, sit," John said curtly, grabbing the back of my robe and pulling me back down. "We'll make a rebuttal in due time."

"But--"

John looked me in the eye. "I will handle it. You need to trust me. Please."

Hell's bells. I wanted to dearly so tell Morgan where he could shove his report, but I wasn't in on John's plan. If I screwed this up, we were both done for. I'd let him come here, endangering himself.

I took a long, slow breath before nodding. "I know. Sorry."

John nodded back, then carefully stood. "Ebenezar, if you would...?" When Eb nodded, he said, "Please excuse Mr. Dresden's interruption. He is under a lot of stress, given the situation. But also please acknowledge that the Warden was not called to act as character witness and his judgements on Mr. Dresden should be struck from the record and not considered for this session." Eb tersely translated.

All eyes were on John. The Merlin in particular leaned forward on the stage to look at him. "Who is this? You speak for Dresden?"

John bowed his head. "In a sense. I speak for myself and my interests, honorable Merlin, assembled wizards."

"You are?"

"My name is John Marcone."

The Merlin frowned. "You cannot fool a member of the Senior Council with a false name, outsider. What is your real name?"

John showed his teeth, mouth twisting into what had all the elements of a smile without quite being one. "Tell me yours and I shall tell you mine."

Next to the Merlin, LaFortier raised one thin hand. "If I may, Merlin. This... person's presence here is evidence of a far more evident and indefensible crime by Wizard Dresden. Clearly he has brought a non-magical mortal into this most secure, private place, putting all of us at risk. This is treasonous." He sneered at me. "Deep deliberation regarding the Red Court may not be... necessary."

Right. If they had me for treason for bringing John here, they could throw me to Bianca without fuss. I could feel the regard on John and I and the shift in the air of the room from staid to unfriendly. I hoped John knew what he was doing.

"If I may," John said, oozing politesse and respectfulness. "I realize letting anyone not a member of this Council in is a grave thing to be taken seriously. But I am simply here to defend myself against the charges leveled against me."

The Merlin's brow furrowed in confusion. "Explain."

"Mr. Dresden is not to blame for the war with the Red Court raging in Chicago. I am."

Rabble, rabble, went the crowd around us.

"Si placet," said John in the tone he used when issuing commands, effortlessly authoritarian. He didn't yell, but his voice carried anyway. "I am quite willing to elaborate, but as I am working through a translator, quiet would be appreciated."

And the place quieted, just like that.

For some reason, a smile tried to steal over my face. It wasn't often I saw John like this. It was impressive, to so easily command a room of people who didn't know who you were. There was a reason he ran things in Chicago.

Once the white noise of the room faded, the Merlin looked sourly at John. I got the impression he wasn't so taken by John's display. "I suggest you get on with it. I have half a mind to have you forcibly removed from this session."

John bowed again. "Of course, honorable Merlin. You are missing key information regarding this situation. Harry Dresden did not instigate this conflict. I did. I went out of my way to threaten the Margravine's House and her people, first through covert methods, then violence."

Morgan cut in then, his face twisted like he'd swallowed a lemon. "You acted through Dresden."

"I did not," John countered. "Mr. Dresden is bound to me by a contract. He provides information on supernatural threats at my request. I used him as a resource to arm my substantial work force, to prepare them against the Red Court. He never participated in any raids on Red Court strongholds in the city or in any of the physical battles that have occurred during the conflict. The only times he has engaged in conflict have been in self-defense."

Ancient Mai drew herself up to her full height. Which was short, for the record, but still imposing. "You say you bound Wizard Dresden to you. You are mortal. Such a thing should not be possible."

"He signed a contract with me."

Pietrovich laughed coldly. "A contract?"

"Along with his True Name as insurance. If he refused me, I would have given his True Name to those who could do him harm," John explained.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly aware of Eb staring at me. "Hoss..."

"It's fine, Eb," I replied.

"A mortal contract does not bind a wizard's power," Pietrovich pointed out.

"It doesn't need to." John began to walk as he spoke, pacing a long ellipse into the area in front of the stage. He suddenly looked like a man in a board meeting, albeit one with a weird dress code. "Unlike much of the magical community, Mr. Dresden exists within the confines of both the mundane mortal world and the supernatural one. He must obey the laws of my world, not just yours. The contract I forced him into was very restrictive. If he broke it, I could bankrupt him, take control of any assets I'd given him or that he purchased with my paycheck. I'd have him in my debt for the rest of his life." The fact all of this was kind of morally repulsive didn't seem to bother Marcone at all. "Perhaps I could not cripple his magic if he broke contract, but I could make his life in the mortal world incredibly difficult."

LaFortier said, "That is hardly an excuse for his actions."

"Tell me, if a wizard makes a deal with one of the Sidhe and is compelled by their deal to do evil, do you hold session to discuss punishment of their actions?"

"The Sidhe can control the agency of one who has made an oath with them."

"As can I," John said, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he sounded smug, too self-assured. "Not with such absolute power, but through coercion and threats, I can control someone who has entered into an arrangement with me."

The Merlin strode forward until he stood at the edge of the stage. He looked down at John.

John, being John, met his gaze. The Merlin looked away, but nodded to himself, like he had seen something telling even without the soulgaze. Pietrovich went silent, waiting like everyone else on the Merlin's word.

"It sounds to me, Mr. Marcone," the Merlin said softly, "that we should be giving you to the Red Court."

I could feel over the aura connection between John and me that he was thrilled. He'd anticipated this. It was obvious. Despite his excitement, he sounded contemplative as he replied, "That's the funny thing about this situation. I am not a magical being. I am not a member of your Council. I do not acknowledge or accept your authority. You have no grounds to respond to my actions. That is the price you pay for being a shadow organization."

Morgan, who had stepped over to stand out of the way, beside the Senior Council, snorted loudly and derisively. "So says the head of the criminal underworld."

John nodded slowly, ignoring the jeering tone. "Yes, but while I choose not to have 'Lord of the Mafiosi' on my business card, say my name to any person in the city and they will know who I am. They acknowledge the reality of my power and authority. This White Council cannot say the same thing, as to even speak of its existence to a non-member is treasonous."

"As the Wizard Dresden has done," Pietrovich said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

John retreated to his chair and opened his briefcase, withdrawing a folder. Out once again came the letter from MonOc Securities. "Long before I knew of the White Council, I have worked with Donar Vadderung. He's assigned one of his agents to me to work as an informant on matters of import in the occult side of Chicago."

The name Vadderung hit the Senior Council like a slap in the face. The Merlin's grip on his staff tightened to a white-knuckled grip while Pietrovich and LaFoutier exchanged a surprised look. The Merlin said, "Let me see."

John handed one sheet up to the Merlin. The Merlin scanned the sheet, then brought up the Accords symbol on it as Morgan had earlier. His lip curled and he threw the sheet back at John, making him stoop to catch it. "Regardless. You used Wizard Dresden as a tool of war. As a weapon. Signatories of the Unseelie Accords must police their people. I would like to bring the possibility to the floor that Wizard Dresden has violated the Accords through his alliance to Mr. Marcone. He has allowed himself to be used irresponsibly, in a manner ill-befiting a wizard. At the very least, his title should be revoked."

I couldn't keep silent through that. I got to my feet and stepped forward. "Bullshit! You can't toss out anyone on a whim! I earned my status as wizard the old-fashioned way!"

John joined my complaint. "Mr. Dresden did nothing to warrant such action. This is ridiculous!"

Pietrovich left his podium to face us. "By joining with a crime lord, you have abandoned the Council, Dresden!"

"Yeah, 'cause that totally crossed my mind when I was picking between signing Marcone's contract and being left for death at the hands of a bunch of lycanthropes!"

Listens To Wind lifted his hands into the air, collected some of his will, and clapped once. The sound echoed loudly, making my teeth rattle from the force behind it. The Merlin and Pietrovich whirled to look at the source of the sound.

Listens To Wind smiled. "Peace, brothers. Let's act like wizards, not petty siblings." He put his hands down. "Wizard Dresden has a point. To remove his stole like this without concrete evidence would set a nasty precedent. We are all old souls. We have seen what happens when those in power abuse it out of fear. Calm yourselves."

The Merlin inclined his head. "Thank you, Wizard Listens To Wind. Let us comport ourselves in a more fitting manner." Like he hadn't been just as heated as the rest of us.

Martha Liberty waited until the Senior Council returned to their podiums-- or was it podii?-- before speaking. "Wizard Listens To Wind is correct. To cast Wizard Dresden out just because we disapprove of his actions would lead us down a dark road. If someone has solid complaint against his actions, let them speak now."

Everyone held their peace.

"Then let us shelve this motion, honorable Merlin. The Wizard remains such."

There was a murmur of agreement across the room. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Hell's bells," I muttered.

John discretely touched my arm, then drew us both back to our seats. As we rejoined Ebenezar, he said, "Nice job so far. Whatever plan the Merlin had has been fumbled."

"Perhaps I destroyed his plans, but I doubt he's through," John replied under his breath.

The Merlin finished composing himself, then tried to retake control of the session. "There is still the matter of the war itself. By your own admission, John Marcone, you have begun a war, involved one of our number, and have created conflict where there was once peace."

"Might I venture a question, honorable Merlin?" John asked.

"What is it?"

"What constitutes a peace?" He sighed and stood again, taking the floor. "I run the city of Chicago. I know its problems and address them as best I can. I do not consider a growing threat to its citizens within city limits a sign of peace. I do not consider women being taken off the streets and drugged into slavery a peace. I consider it an act of aggression."

"You speak as if it were your domain."

"How is it not?" John waved a hand. "I regulate much of its commerce. I control its vices. I defend it from any violent upstarts. I operate outside the confines of law, but I enforce rules for the betterment of the community. I have done so since taking power. Through the Margravine, the people I consider my citizens were endangered. My war on the Red Court's presence is a reasonable act of protection."

"You paint yourself as a benevolent dictator." The Merlin indicated Morgan. "Our Warden says you are a criminal."

"Perhaps I am," John said mildly. "But mortal law is not the purview of this Council, and so my profession is irrelevant."

"If you meddle in our affairs, then everything about you is relevant."

"Your accent betrays you as British, Merlin. Perhaps you'll understand then how I am with you, but not of you." He spread his hands wide apart, stance open and confident. "I ask of you, Council. If you have any real authority to stop me, please let me know. As far as I can tell, I am a non-magical mortal, therefore not your responsibility. I am backed by another Signatory of the Accords, so my pursuit of knowledge of the supernatural is permissible. And having read the Unseelie Accords over several times, I can tell you this war is mine. Your wizard is my counselor, and there is no provision in the Accords preventing accorded parties from lending their aid to a second non-accorded party to the detriment of another accorded party, so long as no unlawful acts are offered by the first accorded party. Harry Dresden has never offered to attack the Red Court on my behalf. He has never instigated battle. He has acted only to preserve his own life." John steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, seeming to think about something. "In fact, I do believe you, White Council, have more grounds to file a complaint to the Red Court than they do to you."

Ebenezar's translation was smooth and steady, but as soon as he finished, he shook his head in disbelief. "Hell's bells, hoss."

"Yeah," I said shallowly. "He's kind of terrifying sometimes. I do my best to ignore it."

LaFountier shakily licked his lips and said, "True, as far as it goes, that Dresden avoided breaking the letter of the Accords. But it is also true that he is in clear violation of the cooperative spirit they embody."

The effect of LaFortier's statement was immediate. The Merlin shut his eyes and leaned his head against his staff. Petrovich looked ready to hex LaFortier. Mai looked away, disengaging from the debate just like that.

John's face lit up. Like everyone else, he knew he'd just won. He said, clearly and slowly, "Wizard LaFortier, you should know as well as anyone. There is no spirit of the letter. There is only the letter, and the letter has been followed."

Checkmate.

He didn't stop there. John turned from the Senior Council to face the assembly. "You are a governing body of wizards that postures as a guardian of humanity," he said with all the pomp of a politician giving a speech. "And yet I am the one moving to actually save lives. Better than that, I am succeeding. I understand you have the Accords to mind and likely a swath of unwritten rules of your society that a person such as myself cannot understand. I am not of the Old World as you are."

He tilted his head, glaring darkly at the Merlin. "Perhaps you cannot abide by the laws of man. I daresay that's a lucky thing for you. If you were subject to them, you would be accomplices to murder, child abuse, and neglect. 'Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster.' I've seen your Council now and I know what you do with children under your protection who need your help. Instead of offering sanctuary, you kill them, or dog their steps and shroud them in vague threats indefinitely."

The Merlin slammed his staff again. "Enough!"

Eb stopped translating, but John went on. "Hide behind your magic circles and your secrecy. You'll need them. If you were of my people, I would tear you from power and dash you all against the pavement of my city."

The staff cracked against the ground so hard, I thought it might break. "You come into our cloister and presume to threaten us?"

"You threatened one of mine!" John's voice finally rose to a shout, the volume ratcheting up even as his control didn't seem to waver. Adamant, righteous fury was clear in his eyes. "I will not tolerate this a second time."

"You have no authority or power here!"

"Yet," growled John. "And I would take it as a boon if you continued to underestimate me. It will make my job much easier."

Visibly furious at being talked to in such a way, the Merlin called the Council meeting into a recess. As soon as the Wardens' circle was broken, he stormed off the theatre stage, into the wings.

"You, boy," Ebenezar said to John afterwards, "are a special kind of stupid."

I couldn't disagree there. But as a sort of stupid afficianado, I knew John's brand of stupid was the best kind.

He's just saved both our lives and verbally bitchslapped the White Council that had made my life hell for so long. I wanted to kiss him right there on his amazing, legalese-speaking mouth.

"So," I said. "You promised me dinner."

We skipped out on the rest of the meeting. It wasn't John's business and as far as I was concerned it wasn't mine either. I wanted as little to do with the Council as possible.

Hendricks was waiting for us outside the theatre in a boring black sedan. He drove us off to the Gold Coast for Fournier. We ditched the Council robes in the car and got a private room for dinner.

As soon as our orders were placed, John popped open a bottle and got the wine flowing. I don't usually drink since lowering a wizard's control tended to lead to bad things. Magic could make you creatively destructive if you weren't careful. But I was flushed with victory and let him refill my glass a few times. "John... Christ, the pair you have."

John smiled faintly. "Necessary evil. I had reached my endgame and needed the meeting adjourned before anyone found a counterargument." He carefully swirled the wine in his glass, like you were supposed to do.

I giggled in a manly fashion. "I can't believe you broke out the Nietzsche on them."

"Mr. Hendricks suggested it," he admitted.

"Still. Mouthing off to the Merlin like that."

"It... was foolish." He dropped his gaze to the red liquid in his glass, face pensive. "I had already won my argument. The White Council is an important player in the supernatural world. It would've been wiser to extend an olive branch, not to make enemies."

His solemnity calmed me. I leaned forward, my cheek propped up on my hand as I watched him. "Then... why'd you do it?"

"I found I couldn't play nice with the sort of people who threaten a victim of child abuse with execution for defending his life."

"That..." Stars. My mouth went dry and I gulped down another mouthful of wine. "That was a long time ago, John. It's over."

John smiled soft and sad at me, that candid, vulnerable curve of his lips that floored me every time I saw it. "Perhaps. The fact remains I... wish you had a better life."

I stared at him, head so full of... everything. The way he transformed from a lawyerly force of nature into this quiet, reserved man who mourned my unhappy childhood. That the man hid so damned much from the world... Not that he wasn't scary at times, the way his mind operated, how he just didn't work like anyone else I'd ever met, but despite all of that, despite the fact he could blasely call himself a professional monster... despite the fact I didn't know his name...

I said in a hoarse voice, "Well... right now, it's pretty good."

Chapter Twenty-Two soon

we can raise cities or raze them, it whispers

and the only difference is the spelling

FIC: other things the road to hell is paved with [21/?]

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