Butters grunted and spoke without opening his eyes. “Forthill wouldn’t have played it like that. He came here to give peace a chance.” He groaned and pressed a hand to his jaw. “Nnngh. Ow.”

Daniel frowned, thinking it over. “So… he didn’t want us to come after him?”

Butters snorted. “He knew we would come after him, no matter what he did. And he also knew that if the sorcerer went off on him, there would be someone to come along and do it the other way. He’s a man of peace. Doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

“Where is he?” Daniel asked.

“By the fire,” Fitz said. “That way about thirty yards. The ambulance is on the way.”

Butters groaned and slowly pushed himself up. He rubbed at his jaw again and said, “Take me to him.”

“Wait,” Daniel said. “Fitz… you ran. I don’t blame you. But you came back.”

Fitz paused, pursed his lips, and said, “Yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

“Why?”

Fitz shrugged. “Dresden. He told me that if I ran now, I’d run forever. And I’m sick of that.”

“Heh,” Butters said. “Heh, heh. He totally Kenobied the day.” Dark eyes gleaming, he looked at Daniel. “Still have doubts?”

Daniel shook his head once, smiling. Then he sank down to the floor with a satisfied groan.

“The father, please,” Butters said. Fitz nodded and led Butters over toward the gang’s little camp. But not before Butters looked around and said, “Thanks, Harry. Good to know you’ve still got our backs.”

I watched them go to help Forthill quietly.

“Sure, man,” I said, though I knew no one could hear me. “Anytime.”

Emergency-service personnel arrived. By the time they got there, weapons had been hidden. Stories had been set. Concerned adults had come to discourage some local homeless youth from playing and living in a dangerous, old, ruined building. There had been an altercation with a possibly drunken vagrant that had gotten out of hand. Things had fallen down, injuring several.

It wouldn’t have taken more than half a brain to see the holes in the story, but Butters knew the med techs, no one had been killed, and no one wanted to press any charges. The techs were willing to keep their mouths shut for a couple of greenbacks. Ah, Chicago.

Forthill was in bad shape, but by the time they’d gotten him onto a stretcher and out to the ambulance, the angel of death was nowhere to be seen. Hah. Up yours, Reaper Girl. The father would live to not-fight another day.

Daniel went with the father. Aristedes rode in his own ambulance. He was still stunned by what had happened, or else smart enough to look disoriented and keep his mouth shut. The techs, after a few quiet words from Butters, strapped his arms and legs down for the ride. He never resisted. He never did anything. The doors of the ambulance shut on a broken man.

As for me, I couldn’t emerge from the old factory into the light. I had to stay in shadowed doorways to watch the proceedings. The afternoon must have been a warm one. The snow had visibly begun to lessen, and water ran and dripped everywhere.