JIM BUTCHER - SMALL FAVOR

“Correct.”

“How much energy are we talking about?” I asked her.

“You might be able to empower such a circle for half an hour or an hour, Dresden. I couldn’t have kept it up that long, even before my, ah”-she waved a hand down at herself-“accident.”

“So it would take loads of power,” I mused. “So how are they powering it?”

“That’s the real question,” she said. “After all, the Sign they raised at the Aquarium suggests that they have an ample supply.”

I shook my head. “No,” I stated. “That was Hellfire.”

Luccio pursed her lips. “You seem fairly certain of that.”

“I seem completely certain of that,” I said. “It’s powerful as Hell, literally, but it isn’t stable. It fluctuates and stutters. That’s why they couldn’t keep the Sign up any longer than they did.”

“To imprison the Archive, they would need a steady, flawless supply,” Luccio said. “A supply that big would also be able to support a very complex veil-one that could shield them from any tracking spell. In fact, it’s the only way they could establish a veil that impenetrable.”

“Ley lines,” I breathed.

“Ley lines,” she said with satisfaction.

“I know of a couple around town, but I didn’t realize there were that many of the things,” I said.

“The Great Lakes region is rife with them,” Luccio said. “It’s an energy nexus.”

“So?” Molly asked. “What does that mean?”

“Well, it’s one reason why so much supernatural activity tends to happen in this area,” I said. “Three times as many ships and planes have vanished in Lake Michigan as in the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Wow,” Molly said. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Next summer I think I’ll stick to the pool.”

Luccio started tracing various lines on the map with a fingertip. “The colors denote what manner of energy seems to be most prevalent in the line. Defensive energy here. Disruptive force here, restorative lines here and here, and so on. The thickness of the line indicates its relative potency.”

“Right, right,” I said, growing excited. “So we’re looking for an energy source compatible with the use of a greater circle, and strong enough to keep a big one powered up and stable.”

“And there are four locations that I think are most likely,” Luccio said. She pointed up toward the north end of Lake Michigan. “North and South Manitou islands both have heavy concentrations of dark energy running through them.”

“There’s plenty of spook stories around them, too,” I said. “But that’s better than two hundred miles away. If I were Nicodemus, I wouldn’t want to risk moving her that far.”

“Agreed. A third runs directly beneath the Field Museum.” She glanced up at me and arched an eyebrow as her voice turned dry. “But I think you’re already familiar with that one.”

“I was going to put the dinosaur back,” I said. “But I was unconscious.”

“Which brings us to number four,” Luccio said. Her fingertip came to rest on a cluster of tiny islands out in the center of the lake, northeast of the city, and the heavy, dark purple line running through it. “Here.”

Molly leaned across me and frowned down at the map. “There aren’t any islands in that part of Lake Michigan. It’s all open water.”

“Listens-to-Wind gave this map to me, Miss Carpenter,” Luccio said seriously. “He’s spent several centuries living in this general region.”

I grunted. “I hear a lot of things. I think that there are some islands out there. They were used as bases for wilderness fighters in several wars. Bootleggers used them as a transfer point for running booze in from Canada, back in the Prohibition days. But there were always stories around them.”

Molly frowned. “What kind of stories?”

I shrugged. “The usual scary stuff. Hauntings. People driven insane by unknown forces. People dragged into the water by creatures unknown, or found slaughtered by weaponry several centuries out-of-date.”

“Then why aren’t they on the maps and stuff?” Molly asked.

“The islands are dangerous,” I said. “Long way from any help, and the lake can be awfully mean in the winter. There are stone reefs out there, too, that could gut a boat that came too close. Maybe someone down at city hall figured that the islands would prove less of a temptation to people if everyone thought they were just stories, and invested some effort in removing them from the public record.”

“That wouldn’t be possible,” Molly said.

“It might be,” Luccio responded. “The energies concentrated around those islands would tend to make people unconsciously avoid them. If one did not have a firm destination fixed in mind, the vast majority of people in the area would swing around the islands without ever realizing what they were doing.”

I grunted. “And if there’s that much bad mojo spinning around out there, it would play merry hell with navigational gear. Twenty bucks says that the major flight lanes don’t come within five miles of the place.” I thumped my finger on the spot and nodded. “It feels right. She’s there.”

“If she is,” Molly asked, “then what do we do about it?”

Luccio tilted her head at me, frowning.

“Captain, I assume you already contacted the Council about getting reinforcements?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’ll be here as soon as possible-which is about nine hours from now.”

“Not fast enough,” I said, and narrowed my eyes in thought. “So we call in some favors.”

“Favors?” Luccio asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I know a guy with a boat.”

I rushed around setting up details for the next half an hour. Everyone left to get into position except for me, Molly, and Kincaid. And Mouse.

My dog was clearly upset that I wasn’t going to be bringing him along, and though he dutifully settled down on the floor near Molly’s feet, he looked absolutely miserable.

“Sorry, boy,” I told him. “I want you here to help Molly and warn her about any danger.”

He sighed.

“I got along just fine without you for quite a while,” I told him. “Don’t you worry about me.”

He rolled onto his back and gave me another pathetic look.

“Hah. Just trying to cadge a tummy rub. I knew it.” I leaned down and obliged him.

A minute later the back door opened, and Thomas came in. “Finally,” he said. “I’ve been sitting in my car so long, I think I left a dent in the seat.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll live. What can I do to help?”

“Get back in your car and give me a ride to my place.”

Thomas gave me a level look. Then he muttered something under his breath, pulled his keys out of his pocket, and stalked back out into the snow.

“You’re horrible,” Molly said, grinning.

“What?” I said. “I’m expressing my brotherly affection.”

I shrugged into my coat and picked up my staff. “Remember the plan?”

“Man the phone,” Molly said, ticking off each point on her fingers. “Keep my eyes open. Make sure Mouse stays in the same room as me. Check on Kincaid every fifteen minutes.”

At one time she would have been sullen about the prospect of being forced to sit at home when something exciting was under way-but she had grown up enough to realize just how dangerous things could be out there, and to respect her own limitations. Molly was extraordinarily sensitive when it came to the various energies of magic. It was one of the things that made her so good at psycho-mancy and neuromancy. It also meant that when violent personal or supernatural events started happening, she experienced them in such agonizing clarity that it would often incapacitate her altogether, at least for a few minutes. Combat magic was never going to be her strong suit, and in a real conflict she could prove to be a lethal liability to her own allies.