Stallings watched her go and shook his head. “Jesus, Dresden. You starting a wrestling league?”
“Look,” I said. “I can’t easily explain to you how much bad stuff is coming down on my side of the street. I’m stretched pretty thin. I don’t know what I can do. But I’ll try.”
“Holy Christ,” Stallings said, sniffing. “Is that beef?”
“And potatoes. Get you and your guys some food,” I said. “I’ll look into it and do what I can.”
Chapter
Eleven
September continued to smolder. There had been fires in Canada, and sunset had filled the crippled city with an orange haze.
Bear was training half a dozen Knights of the Bean on the roof of the castle, where several wrestling mats had been tossed down. Will was working with them, and so was Fitz, at my suggestion. Bear was teaching them pankration—an ancient Greek style of martial arts that basically amounted to boxing plus wrestling plus kicking plus the dirtiest fighting tricks of human history.
Bear had learned in Sparta, so she was what you might call a pure source. She’d started giving me solo lessons about a week before, and I had a mouse under one eye and bruises all over my torso to show for it. Spartan pankration wasn’t exactly something you did for recreation, and the boys were taking their bruises learning.
I was with Michael Carpenter at the grill, making burgers and dogs.
“They think you’re getting better, don’t they?” Michael said calmly. He opened the cooler and got out a couple of chilled bottles of Mac’s pale. He opened them and passed me one.
“I’m functioning better,” I said. “I handled a case for this tutoring service. There was an evil hag and a spirit bear and explosions and everything.”
Michael grunted. He was a man in his fifties, tall and hale, with artistically grizzled hair and beard. He was half-covered in drywalldust. Several of his crew had joined in on the pankration lessons along with my guys. He was my friend.
“That’s not the same thing as you dealing with what happened to you,” he said quietly.
“I’m moving on,” I said shortly. I flipped a burger and it sizzled. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
He clinked my bottle with his and said, “Drink.”
I remembered and did.
He mirrored me and said, “I know you want to be there for people, Harry,” he said. “That’s who you are. But if you don’t get yourself squared away, you’re not going to be able to provide for anyone.”
“How’s Maggie?” I asked him.
He grimaced. He studied my face for a moment and visibly decided to relent. “She wishes you’d visit more. Charity formed a soccer league for the local kids, and they take over the street every afternoon. She’s playing goalkeeper. She lost her last baby tooth.”
“Did you—” I began.
“Collected it, ground it to dust, scattered it,” Michael said, his voice soothing. “I remember.”
I nodded slowly, relaxing.
“We’re having dinner on Sunday,” he said. “I’ll expect you to be there.”
“I have some things going on here,” I said, gesturing toward the training mats. Will caught Fitz in a throw and slammed the young man down onto the mat with a thump that made everyone stop and look for a second.
Michael smiled with his eyes. “I’m guarding and feeding your daughter while the city bleeds,” he said. “You’ll be there. It will be good for you.”
“We’ll see,” I said grumpily.
But we both knew better.
“Good,” he said. “Get up and walk, son,” he called to Fitz. “It’ll bring your wind back faster.” He studied the burgers for a moment and said, “Like them rare, huh?”
“Leaves the most nutrition in them,” I said.
