I frowned. "Not exactly."
Aurora nodded and folded her hands in her lap. "Summer readies to go to war against Winter."
I frowned. "You mean it's not just a theoretical possibility anymore. It's real."
"I know no other kind of war. The loss of the Summer Knight has forced Summer's hand."
"I'm not sure I follow."
Her pale brow knit into a soft frown. "The power of our Knights is considerable. It carries a sort of weight that only a free mortal will can possess. That power, that influence, is a critical element of the balance between our Courts."
"Except now yours is gone."
"Exactly."
"Which makes Summer weaker."
"Yes."
I nodded. "Then why the hell are you planning an attack?"
"The seasons are changing," Aurora said. "In two days' time, Midsummer will be upon us. The height of Summer's strength."
She said nothing more, letting me do the math. "You think Winter has taken away your Knight," I said. "And if you wait, you're only going to grow more and more weak, while Winter gets stronger. Right?"
"Correct. If we are to have any chance of victory, we must strike while at the peak of our strength. It will be the only time when our Court might be near equal to Winter's strength. Otherwise, the seasons will change, and at Midwinter Mab and her creatures will come for us. And they will destroy us, and with us the balances of the mortal world." She lifted her green eyes from her hands to my face. "Winter, Mister Dresden. Endless Winter. Unending and vicious cycles of predator and prey. Such a world would not be kind to mortals."
I shook my head. "Why would Winter pull this now? I mean, if they had waited another couple of days, they could have held all the cards. Why leave you enough space to wriggle out?"
"I cannot even pretend to know the mind of Winter," Aurora said. "But I know that they must not be allowed to destroy us. For your sake as well as ours."
"Boy, everybody's looking out for my best interests."
"Wizard, please. Promise me that you will do what you can to stop them."
"I'm finished making promises." I stood up and started for the path that led back to the elevator and out, but part of me wanted to do nothing but return to the comfort Aurora had offered. I paused and squeezed my eyes shut, focusing my resolve. "But I will say this. I'm going to find the killer and straighten this out, and I'm going to do it before Midsummer."
I didn't bother to add, "Because I'm as good as dead if I don't."
No need to belabor the obvious.
Chapter Eighteen
I got the hell away from the Rothchild and found a pay phone. Murphy picked up on the first ring. "Dresden?"
"Yeah."
"Finally. You all right?"
"I need to talk to you."
There was a short pause, then her voice softened. "Where?"
I rubbed at my head with the heel of one hand, trying to nudge my brain into gear. My thoughts stumbled around sluggishly and in no particular order. "Dunno. Someplace public, bunch of people, quiet enough to talk."
"In Chicago. At this time of night."
"Yeah."
"Okay," Murph said. "I guess I know a place." She told me, we agreed to meet in twenty minutes, and hung up.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I reflected that odds were that not a lot of clandestine meetings involving mystical assassination, theft of arcane power, and the balance of power in the realms of the supernatural had taken place in a Wal-Mart Super Center. But then again, maybe they had. Hell, for all I knew, the Mole Men used the changing rooms as a place to discuss plans for world domination with the Psychic Jellyfish from Planet X and the Disembodied Brains-in-a-Jar from the Klaatuu Nebula. I know I wouldn't have looked for them there.
After midnight the Wal-Mart wasn't crowded, but it wasn't the usual deserted parking lot you'd expect after hours around Wrigleyville, either. The store was open all night, and there were plenty of people in a town like Chicago who would do their shopping late. I had to park about halfway down a row and walk through the cool of the evening before stepping into the refrigerator-cold of the enormous store, whose massive air conditioners had too much momentum to slow down for a few paltry hours of darkness.
A greeter nodded sleepily to me as I came in, and I passed up his offer of a shopping cart. Before I'd gotten all the way into the store, Murphy fell into step beside me. She was wearing a Cubs jacket, jeans, and sneakers, and she had her blond hair tucked up underneath an undecorated black ball cap. She walked with her hands in her pockets, and her expression, one of belligerent annoyance, didn't seem to fit on someone that short. Wordlessly, we walked past all the little hole-in-the-wall franchise businesses, closed and locked up behind their grills, and settled down at the generic cafe near the deli section of the grocery store.
Murphy chose a booth where she could watch the door, and I sat across from her, where I could watch her back. She picked up a couple of cups of coffee, bless her noble heart. I dumped sugar and creamer into mine until bits floated on the surface, stirred it up, and took a slow sip that nearly scalded my tongue.
"You don't look so good," Murphy said.
I nodded.
"You want to talk about it?"
To my own surprise, I did. I set the coffee down and said without preamble, "I'm furious, Murph. I can't think straight, I'm so mad."
"Why?"
"Because I'm screwed. That's why. No matter what I do, I'm going to take it up the ass."
Lines appeared between her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"It's this job," I said. "Investigating Reuel's death. There's a lot of resistance and I don't know if I can beat it. And if I don't beat it before tomorrow night, things are really going to go to hell."
"The client isn't being helpful?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "Hell, for all I know the client is doing this to me just so I can get myself horribly killed."
"You don't trust them, then."
"Not as far as I could kick her. And the people who are supposed to be working with me are driving me nuts." I shook my head. "I feel like some guy in a magician's box, just before he starts pushing all those swords through it. Only it's not a trick, and the swords are real, and they're going to start skewering me any second. The bad guys are doing their best to get me wiped out or screwed up. The good guys think I'm some kind of ticking psycho, just waiting to go off, and it's like pulling teeth to try to get a straight answer out of any of them."
"You think you're in danger."
"I know it," I said. "And it's just too damned big." I fell quiet for a moment, and sipped my coffee.
"So," Murph said. "Why did you want to see me?"
"Because the people who should be backing me up are about to throw me to the wolves. And because the only person actually helping me is green enough to get himself killed without a babysitter." I set the empty cup down. "And because when I asked myself who I could trust, I came up with a damned short list. You're it."
She settled back in her seat with a slow, long exhalation. "You're going to tell me what's going on?"
"If you're willing," I said. "I know I've kept things from you. But I've done it because I thought it was how I could protect you best. Because I didn't want you to get hurt."
"Yeah," she said. "I know. It's annoying as hell."
I tried to smile. "In this case, ignorance is bliss. If I tell you this stuff, it's going to be serious. Just knowing it could be dangerous for you. And you aren't going to be able to get away from it, Murph. Not ever."
She regarded me soberly. "Then why tell me now?"