Chapter Text
The first thing I did when I crawled out of the lake was find a pay phone and call Father Forthill.
There was a booth in the parking lot by the marina and I climbed inside, grateful to be out of the chill November wind. The cold didn't cut as deep as the back of my mind told me it should have, but I was shivering from the water and wearing soaked, bloodstained jeans and a shirt filled with bullet holes.
I dialed the number of St. Mary of the Angels, calling collect. A receptionist picked up on the third ring but patched me through to Father Forthill when I gave my name.
"Harry." He sounded relieved. "Michael told me - "
A burst of static took the line, not unusual for me, but where I might normally be annoyed this time I grinned. It was a small but significant reminder I had my magic back again.
"I'm glad he did." It would save time. "Listen Father, I've got to know – where's Maggie?"
Father Forthill paused. Static echoed a little in the line.
"Father?" Panic reached up and grabbed my ass. Gard and Michael hadn't said anything – "What's wrong? Is she okay? Did something happen to her?"
I had made the decision to leave my daughter in the care of Father Forthill three weeks ago, the day before I got shot and died. My reasoning had been sound – I had made a deal with the devil, traded my soul and a lifetime of service to Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, for the power she offered. As the Winter Knight my allies and I had managed to storm the palace of the Vampire King of the Red Court and turn his lineage spell, aimed at my daughter and – utimately – at my grandfather, against him and his own.
I had killed my ex-girlfriend and the mother of my daughter to do it. I didn't want to think about that right now. But with Susan gone and my service in Mab's icy hands, Forthill had been the only one I trusted to look after her.
I had trusted him to keep her safe.
"Where is she?" I demanded.
The priest took a deep breath. It hissed through the static. "The couple who adopted her were targeted by the ... the creatures Michael informed me of. The ones with an interest in those with subtle or faint magical ability. The Smiths were not wizards such as yourself, but they did have little talents. Small things – Juniper could never be lost, Brian could find anything he looked for. They had experience with social services and I thought they would be the best caretakers for your daughter. They had enough knowledge of the magical world to know what to watch out for and a real love for lost children.
The Smiths lived just outside of Chicago, up the I-94. Maggie had been there a week, and seemed to be settling in somewhat. Mouse had been sent to her immediately after your ... after your death. She adored him. I visited them twice together, and though Maggie was not yet speaking to anyone and continued to have nightmares, she did seem more comfortable the second time I was there.
Then ... Harry, what I know is the Smiths were attacked in the middle of the night. I know Mouse gave a warning, and if not for him I don't know what would have happened to Maggie. He managed to get her out of the house and hide her in the brush in the backyard. I was in the area, visiting a sick member of my congregation. I decided to visit on my way back to Chicago. I arrived shortly after nine, but it was too late to save Brian and Juniper. It was clear they were meant to be taken, but they had fought back too well. Both were killed. Mouse revealed Maggie and himself to me when I arrived. I brought them immediately back to St. Mary's.
This was two weeks ago. Sarg ... Ms. Murphy called me shortly afterward to ask for Michael's contact information and I managed to get most of the story of what was happening from her. I didn't want to risk Maggie's safety by speaking about her when the Smiths were so recently attacked, so I said nothing. Ms. Murphy and Michael's story I think you know. I understand Ms. Gard was involved as well. I know the creatures were found, tracked, and destroyed. I know, a little, of how you were able to assist them in this search.
With Ms. Murphy and Michael involved in the fight against these creatures, I knew I had to make provisions to keep Maggie safe. I had – I did not expect you to ever return, Mister Dresden, though I know Ms. Murphy at least had not given up hope.
But the church itself was attacked several days after Maggie came to us here. I knew I could not keep her hidden forever. The police arrived and wanted a full accounting of the event, and I had to expose Maggie as a friend's daughter attending school at the church when they asked. There have been several reports of missing children in the wake of these attacks, Harry. I knew they would look into the records of all individuals involved and I knew Maggie would not be listed in the system. I needed someone who could give her proper documentation, and quickly. And I needed someone who could be trusted with the safety of a child."
I had closed my eyes through Father Forthill's explanation, fear for my daughter making my hands around the reciever shake. It was true that I had fought, as best I could while dead, with Karen and Michael against the creatures that had taken so many of the minor practioners of the Northeastern region. No one had mentioned Maggie, and I hadn't been able to communicate well enough to ask outright if she were okay. I knew Karen wouldn't know where she was, and I trusted Michael to let me know if he heard anything dangerous.
He hadn't, and for the past three weeks every spare thought had been for her. I had hoped – even prayed – that she would be okay. I thought she would. And to find out now that she had been attacked, that the people who had taken her in had been killed ... it was almost too much to hear. If I had known ... I don't know if there was anything I could have done. But I would have tried.
Stars, thank goodness for Mouse. If it hadn't been for him ...
I shook my head, trying to come back to the present. Father Forthill had paused. I mentally reviewed the last few minutes of the conversation and filtered out all the static that had been buzzing in the background.
He had said he needed someone, someone who could help get documentation and keep a child safe ...
... oh stars ...
"You didn't." I breathed.
Father Forthill sounded apologetic. "John Marcone was the only person I could think of who had both the resources and the knowledge needed to protect Maggie."
I closed my eyes and leaned back, resting my shoulders on the cold glass of the phone booth. "Let me guess, he demanded to know her true identity before supplying you with the necessary documentation."
The priest sighed. "Yes he did. He met me here at the church and I asked him to swear on his name and his power that he would do all he could for her and would guard her life with his own before I told him."
My brain felt slow and soggy, but I tried to churn through the implications of that.
"He isn't a practioner, his Name would have less holding power over him. But if he swore as the Baron Marcone of Chicago ..."
"He did," Father Forthill noted, sounding relieved. Either he was glad he had guessed right, or he was happy I wasn't already setting fire to his church. "He was ... certainly shocked, Harry. My guess is that your death hit him harder than he wanted it to, or wanted to admit to. But I firmly believed then and now that he would do nothing to harm Maggie. She is now under his protection."
I tried to think through that. To be honest, John Marcone wasn't one of the few people I had spent a lot of time wondering about lately. Karen, Michael, Thomas, my daughter – those had been the focus of my unlife these past few weeks. The idea of him regretting my death seemed a little odd, but then again I guess he would be upset someone had managed to pop me on his hunting grounds.
Then the rest of Forthill's words caught up to me.
"What do mean, under his protection? She isn't at St. Mary's ?"
There was another burst of static from the phone, but I could hear the priest's voice beneath it.
"No, we had another attack yesterday and Marcone informed me the police would be continuing their investigation. He picked her up himself last night. Mouse went with her."
I gripped the phone tightly. Yesterday was when all the really big shit had gone down. Yesterday and this morning. There had been a lot of angry people on the streets before then, and now there was another power vaccum in place. And I knew for a fact that Gard wasn't helping protect Marcone right now, because I had left her with Karen and Michael at the warehouse less than an hour ago Chicago-time.
"Father," I said into the receiver, nearly spitting out the words, "Where is she?"
"I don't know - " he began.
That was enough for me.
I hung up with my left hand, and started punching in numbers with my right.