Bob whistled. “Well. Maybe that explains it.” “Explains what?” “Why Mab was so hell-bent on getting you to be the new Knight,” Bob said. “I mean, you’re kind of an avatar of the phrase ‘Things fall apart.’ Mab has a target she wants to be absolutely sure of. You’re like . . . her guided missile. She can’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but she knows there’s going to be a great big boom.” “I’m a missile, huh?” “Her big, dumb bunker buster,” he said cheerily. “Of course, you know the thing about missiles, Harry.” “Yeah,” I said, as I put the Caddy back in gear again. “They’re expendable.”
