“Jesu Christi,” Luccio spat. “She means to withdraw our right-of-way through Winter if we don’t accede to her demands.”

“Well,” I said, “she never actually came out and said that.”

“Of course she didn’t. She never speaks plainly at all.”

“She does keep her deals, though,” I pointed out.

“She doesn’t make deals she can’t slide out of. She’s forbidden the Ways to her people but also to the Wyldfae as a gesture of courtesy. All she needs to do is relax her ban against the Wyldfae, and we’d be forced to travel in strength every time we went through the Ways.”

“She’s a sneaky bitch,” I agreed. I crossed my fingers.

Luccio exhaled forcefully through her nose. “Very well. I will forward the appropriate notifications, pending approval by the Senior Council. Which Emissary would you prefer?”

“The Archive. We have a working relationship.”

Luccio mmmmm’ed again. I heard a pencil scratching. “Dresden,” she said, “I cannot stress to you enough how vital it is that we avoid general hostilities, even with a relatively small power.”

Translation: Don’t start another war, Harry.

“But,” she continued, “we can afford to lose the paths through Winter even less.”

Translation: Unless you really have to.

“I hear you,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do better,” Luccio said, her tone blunt. “There are those on the Senior Council who hold the opinion that we’re already fighting one war because of your incompetence.”

I felt heat flush up my neck. “If they bring that up, remind them that my incompetence is the only reason they weren’t all blasted to molecules by a newborn god,” I shot back. “And after that, remind them that because of my incompetence, we’re enjoying a cease-fire that we desperately needed to replace our losses. And after that —”

“That is enough, Warden,” the captain snapped.

I fought down my frustration and clamped my mouth shut.

Hey, we were coming up on the holidays. They’re a time of miracles.

“I’ll notify you when I learn something,” Luccio said, and hung up the phone.

I hung up too, harder than I really needed to. I turned to find Michael and Sanya staring at me.

“Harry,” Michael said quietly, “that was Captain Luccio, was it not?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You never told us that Mab threatened to go back on her bargain.”

“Well, no.”

Michael watched me with troubled eyes. “Because she didn’t. You just lied to Luccio.”

“Yeah,” I said shortly. “Because I need the Council’s say-so to set up the meeting. Because I’ve got to set up the meeting so that the gang of murdering bastards who tortured Shiro to death will have a chance to prove to you that they’ve still got it coming.”

“Harry, if the Council learns that you’ve misled them—”

“They’ll probably charge me with treason,” I said.

Michael rose from his seat. “But—”

I stabbed a finger at him. “The longer we delay, the longer those creeps stay in town, the longer Summer’s hit men keep coming after me, and the more likely it is that innocent people are going to get hurt in the cross fire. I’ve got to move fast, and the best way to get the Council to move is to let it think its own ass is about to fall into the fire.”