I blinked at him. “That must have been difficult.”

“My entire life has been one of a snowball in Hell,” Sanya said cheerfully. “Though the metaphor is perhaps inverted. At the time I judged the action to be tantamount to suicide, since Tessa was certain to track me down and kill me—but Shiro had followed her to Venice, and he found me instead. Michael—not the Chicago Michael, the other one—met us at Malta and brought Esperacchius, here, with him, offering me the chance to work against some of the evil I’d helped to create. From there I have been Knighting. Is good work. Plenty of travel, interesting people, always a new challenge.”

I shook my head and laughed. “That’s putting a positive spin on it.”

“I am making a difference,” Sanya said with simple and rock-solid conviction. “And you, Dresden? Have you considered taking up Fidelacchius? Joining us?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“Why not?” Sanya asked, his tone reasonable. “You know for what we fight. You know the good we do for others. Your cause runs a close parallel to ours: to protect those who cannot protect themselves; to pit yourself against the forces of violence and death when they arise.”

“I’m not really into the whole God thing,” I said.

“And I am an agnostic,” Sanya responded.

I snorted. “Hell’s bells. Tell me you aren’t still clinging to that. You carry a holy blade and hang out with angels.”

“The blade has power, true. The beings allied with that power are…somewhat angelic. But I have met many strange and mighty things since I took up the sword. If one called them ‘aliens’ instead of ‘angels,’ it would only mean that I was working in concert with powerful beings—not necessarily the literal forces of Heaven, or a literal Creator.” Sanya grinned. “A philosophical fine point, true, but I am not prepared to abandon it. What we do is worthy, without ever bringing questions of faith, religion, or God into the discussion.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I admitted.

“So tell me,” Sanya said, “why have you not considered taking up the sword?”

I thought about it for a second and said, “Because it isn’t for me. And Shiro said I would know who to give it to.”

Sanya shrugged and nodded his head in acquiescence. “Reason enough.” He sighed. “We could use Fidelacchius ’s power in this conflict. I wish Shiro were with us now.”

“Good man,” I agreed quietly. “He was a king, you know.”

“I thought he just liked the King’s music.”

“No, no,” I said. “Shiro himself. He was a direct descendent of the last king of Okinawa. Several generations back, but his family was royalty.”

Sanya shrugged his broad shoulders. “There have been many kings over the centuries, my friend, and many years for their bloodlines to spread through the populace. My own family can trace its roots back to Salahuddin.”

I felt my eyebrows rise. “Salahuddin. You mean Saladin? King of Syria and Egypt during the Crusades?”