“It doesn’t matter,” Michael was saying in a patient voice. “Sanya, we don’t recruit members. We’re not a chapter of the Masons. It’s got to be a calling.”

“We act in the interests of God on a daily basis,” Sanya said in a reasonable voice. “If He is being slow to call a new wielder for Fidelacchius, perhaps it is a subtle hint that He wishes us to take on the responsibility for ourselves.”

“Don’t you keep assuring me you are undecided on whether or not God exists?” Michael asked.

“I am speaking to you in your idiom, to make you comfortable,” Sanya said. “She would make a good Knight.”

Michael sighed. “Perhaps the reason no new wielder has been called is because our task is nearly complete. Perhaps one isn’t needed.”

Sanya’s voice turned dry. “Yes. Perhaps all evil, everywhere, is about to be destroyed forever and there will be no more need for the strength to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” He sighed. “Or perhaps…” he began, glancing at me. He saw me blinking my eyes open and hurriedly said, “Dresden. How are you feeling?”

“Nothing a few days in a hospital, a new set of lungs, a keg of Mac’s dark, and a pair of feisty redheads couldn’t cure,” I mumbled. I tried for cavalier, but it came out a little flatter and darker than I’d meant it to. “I’ll live.”

Michael nodded and parked the truck. “When do we go after them?”

“We don’t,” I said quietly. “They’ve developed some kind of stealth defense against being found or scried upon magically.”

Michael frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure it’s really hard to defeat someone you can’t find, Michael.” I rubbed at my eyes and all but slapped my own hand away, it hurt so much. Ow. Stupid broken nose. Stupid Tessa tweaking it.

“You need to get some sleep, Harry,” Michael said quietly.

“And perhaps a shower,” Sanya suggested.

“You smell like dolphin water too, big guy,” I shot back.

“But not nearly so much,” he said. “And I didn’t throw up on myself.”

I glowered at him for a second. “Isn’t Sanya a girl’s name?”

Michael snorted. “Get some sleep first, Harry.”

“After,” I said. “First things first. War council in the kitchen. And if someone doesn’t make me a cup of coffee, I’m going to shimmy dry all over everything, like Mouse.”

“Mouse is too polite to do that in my house,” Michael said.

“Like somebody else’s dog then,” I said. “Crap, I forgot my staff.”

Michael swung out of the truck, reached into the bed of the pickup, and lifted my staff out of it. I got out, and he tossed it to me across the back of the truck. I caught it in my left hand and nodded to him. “Bless you. It’s a real pain to make one of these. Way harder to carve out than, uh…” I shook my head as my thoughts wandered off-track. “Sorry. Long day.”

“Get inside before you take a chill,” Michael said quietly.