Brief Cases (The Dresden Files, #15.1)

by Jim Butcher

“Oh,” Carlos said, stopping short. I could see calculations and connections forming behind his eyes. “Uh-oh.” “What-oh?” “This just got worse.” “Why?” He licked his lips nervously. “Uh. How much Lovecraft have you read?” “I haven’t kept track,” I said. “Somewhere between zero and none. Should I have?” “Probably,” he said. “It’s always the last thing a formally trained apprentice learns about.” “I have a funny feeling my training wasn’t formal,” I said. “Yeah. Neither was Harry’s. Have you heard of the Old Ones?” “I don’t think it’s a very kind nickname for the Rolling Stones. They still put on a great show.” He nodded and squinted at me. “I kind of need you to put on your serious face now.” “That bad?” I asked. “Maybe,” he said. “They’re . . . kind of a collection of entities. Really old, really powerful entities.” “What, like gods?” I asked. “Like the things gods have nightmares about,” he said. “Outsiders.” He nodded. “Only they aren’t outside. They’re here. Caged, bound, and sleeping, but they’re here.”