Death Masks (The Dresden Files, #5)

by Jim Butcher

Not that I would turn him down. I wanted to take his case. Well, more accurately, I wanted to take his money. I wasn’t in the bad fiscal shape of the year before, but that meant only that I had to fend the creditors off with a baseball bat rather than a cattle prod.

Sanya’s expression became surprised. ‘You are not a religious man, then.’ ‘I wouldn’t burden any decent system of faith by participating in it.’

‘Da,’ he said. ‘So if you’re not religious, you risk your life to help other people because . . . ?’ ‘Because it must be done,’ he answered without hesitation. ‘For the good of the people, some must place themselves in harm’s way. Some must pledge their courage and their lives to protect the community.’

I stood up and said, ‘Michael, I’m tired. I’m really damned tired.’ ‘Harry,’ Michael chided me. ‘Darned,’ I mumbled. ‘Darned tired. Darn me unto heck.’

In the second place, the risk of imminent death just didn’t hit me the same way it used to. It wasn’t that it didn’t scare me. It did, in that kind of horrible, uncertain way that left me with nothing to focus my fears upon. But I’ve beaten risks before. I could do it again.

He rested a hand on the handle of his sword. ‘Then came into this. Made the whole thing more simple. I serve.’ ‘Serve who?’ ‘Heaven. Or the divine in nature. The memory of my fathers past. My fellow man. Myself. All pieces of the same thing.

Shiro nodded. ‘Precisely. I am just another blind man. I do not get the whole picture of what transpires in all places. I am blind and limited. I would be a fool to think myself wise. And so, not knowing what the universe means, I can only try to be responsible with the knowledge, the strength, and the time given to me. I must be true to my heart.’ ‘Sometimes that isn’t good enough,’ I said. He tilted his head and looked up at me. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because you are ruled by fear. You are afraid, Dresden.’ I said, ‘Of what?’ ‘Of what you could be if you ever let yourself stray from the right-hand path,’ Nicodemus said. ‘Of the power you could use. You’ve thought about what it might be like to bend the world to your will. The things you could have. The people. Some part of you has considered and found joy in the idea of using your abilities to take what you wish. And you are afraid of that joy. So you drive yourself toward martyrdom instead.’

‘Lead us not into temptation,’ I said. ‘But deliver us from evil. Isn’t that how it goes?’ Deirdre licked her lips. The goon shut the box and stepped back. ‘Are you certain, Dresden?’ Nicodemus said in a quiet voice. ‘This is your very last chance.’ I slumped weakly. There didn’t seem to be much of a point to bravado anymore. I’d made the call, and that was that. ‘I’m certain. Fuck off, Nick.’

Some wild, reckless, primal piece of me had always loved the danger, the adrenaline, had always loved testing myself against the various and sundry would-be lethalities that crossed my paths. There was an ecstasy in the knife edge of the struggle, a vital energy that couldn’t be found anywhere else, and part of me (a stupid, insane, but undeniably powerful part) missed it when it was gone.

‘Coffee, doughnut?’ Father Forthill asked. I sat down at the table. ‘Father, you’ve never been closer to converting me.’ He laughed. ‘The Fantastic Forthill, saving souls one Danish at a time.’ He produced the nectar of the gods themselves in Dunkin Donuts paper sacks and Styrofoam cups, taking some for himself as well. ‘I’ve always admired your ability to make jokes when faced with adversity.

The blood on their hands does not make it right to bloody my own. My choices are measured against my own soul. Not against the stains on theirs.’

‘I was of their number,’ Sanya said. ‘I was less experienced. Foolish. Proud. I did not set out to be a monster, but that much power corrupts. Shiro faced the Fallen I had allowed in. He exposed its lies. And I made a better choice.’ ‘Traitor,’ said Cassius, his voice cold. ‘We handed you the world. Power. Glory. Everything you could have wanted.’ Sanya faced the man and said, ‘What I wanted you could never give me. I had to find it for myself.’

His jaw clenched harder, the muscles in his face bulging. ‘You’ll destroy us all.’ ‘Starting with you.’ The sphere darted a little nearer. ‘You are a selfish, self-righteous madman.’ ‘You murder and enslave children,’ I said. I shoved the mordite sphere to within a foot of him. ‘You threaten the people I love.’ I shoved it closer still. ‘How does it feel, Ortega. Being too weak to protect yourself. How does it feel to know you are about to die?’

Shiro died. There was nothing pretty about it. There was no dignity to it. He’d been brutalized and savagely murdered – and he’d allowed it to happen to him in my place. But when he died, there was a small, contented smile on his face. Maybe the smile of someone who had run his course without wavering from it. Someone who had served something greater than himself. Who had given up his life willingly, if not gladly.

I looked around, picked up another headset, put it on, and said, ‘Blow me.’ ‘Excuse me?’ came Gard’s somewhat outraged voice over the intercom. ‘Not you, blondie. I was talking to Marcone.’ Marcone folded his arms in his seat, half smiling. ‘It’s all right, Miss Gard. Compassion dictates that we must make allowances. Mister Dresden is a diplomatically challenged individual. He should be in a shelter for the tactless.’

And when I’ve finished you and the wizard, I’ll go back for the boy. Three Knights in a day, as it were.’ ‘He can’t make bad puns,’ I muttered. ‘That’s my shtick.’ ‘At least he didn’t overlook you entirely,’ Marcone answered. ‘I feel somewhat insulted.’

Your path is often a dark one. You do not always have the luxury that we do as Knights of the Cross. We struggle against powers of darkness. We live in black and white, while you must face a world of greys. It is never easy to know the path in such a place.

Sometimes it feels like the older I get, the more confused everything is.’

‘You joke around a lot more than you used to,’ I said. ‘I like it.’ I could picture the sad smile on her face as she spoke. ‘I’m dealing with a lot of scary things,’ she said. ‘I think you have to react to them. And you either laugh at them or you go insane. Or you become like Martin. Shut off from everything and everyone. Trying not to feel.’ ‘So you joke,’ I said. ‘I learned it from you.’ ‘I should open a school.’

It isn’t good to hold on too hard to the past. You can’t spend your whole life looking back. Not even when you can’t see what lies ahead. All you can do is keep on keeping on, and try to believe that tomorrow will be what it should be – even if it isn’t what you expected.