She looked at me for a long moment, and then a slow smile curled up one side of her mouth. “Morgan told them you’d say that. So did McCoy and Listens-to-Wind. The Merlin wouldn’t hear it.”

“The Merlin doesn’t like to hear anything that doesn’t fit into his view of the world,” I said. “Japanese.”

“Excuse me?”

“Japanese. There’s a Japanese steakhouse I go to sometimes to celebrate. Surviving this mess qualifies. Come with me, dinner tomorrow. The teriyaki is to die for.”

She smiled more broadly and inclined her head once.

The door opened, and Murphy and Kincaid arrived. Kincaid was moving under his own power, though very gingerly, and with the aid of a walking stick. I got out of the way, and he came over to settle down next to Ivy. She woke up enough to murmur something about cookies and a Happy Meal. He settled down on the bed beside her, and she pressed up against his arm before settling down to rest again. Kincaid, evidently exhausted himself, drew a gun, took the safety off, placed it on his chest, and went to sleep too.

“It’s cute,” I whispered to Murphy. “He has a teddy Glock.”

She was looking at Kincaid and Ivy with a decidedly odd expression. She shook her head a little, blinked up at me, and said, “Hmm. Oh, hah, very funny. I had your car dug out of the snow, by the way.”

I blinked at her. “Thank you.”

“Got your keys?”

“Yeah.”

“Give you a ride to it,” she said.

“Groovy.”

We took off.

Once we were in the car and moving, Murphy said, “I like Luccio.”

“Yeah?”

“But she’s all wrong for you.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“You come from different worlds. And she’s your boss. There are secrets you have to keep from her. That’s going to make things difficult. And there are other issues that could come up.”

“Wait,” I said. I mimed cleaning out my ears. “Okay, go ahead. Because for a second there, it sounded like you were giving me relationship advice.”

Murphy gave me a narrow, oblique look. “No offense, Dresden. But if you want to compare total hours of good relationships and bad, I leave you in the dust in both categories.”

“Touché,” I said. Sourly. “Kincaid was looking awfully paternal in there, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, bite me,” Murphy said, scowling. “How’s Michael?”

“Gonna make it,” I said. “Hurt bad, though. Don’t know how mobile he’s going to be after this.”

Murphy fretted her lower lip. “What happens if he can’t…keep on with the Knight business?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“I just…I didn’t think that taking up one of the swords was the sort of job offer you could turn down.”

I blinked at Murphy. “No, Murph. There’s no mandatory martyrdom involved. You’ve got a choice. You’ve always got a choice. That’s…sort of the whole point of faith, the way I understand it.”

She digested that in silence for a time. Then she said, “It isn’t because I don’t believe.”