Chapter
Sixteen
I took Maggie trick-or-treating on Halloween.
Michael’s neighborhood had been spared many of the problems of the rest of the city—partly because there were a bunch of angels and a Winter Court mayhem team hanging around the block, and partly because it was simply far enough away from the Battle of Chicago’s hot spots that it hadn’t been covered in semi-toxic dust from collapsing buildings. As a result, the blocks right around the Carpenter place had gone out of their way to try to set up something like a normal Halloween for the kids. Word had gotten out. The place was crowded with children in whatever costumes they’d been able to make or acquire, and with the adults escorting them.
Maggie was the most beautiful child on this or any other planet, on the bottom end of the bell curve for height and weight, and looked a lot younger than she was. She had dark hair and dark eyes like her mother. And me, I suppose.
Maggie had chosen to wear a Princess Leia costume, inherited from Hope Carpenter, the one from the original film. She even had those cinnamon-bun-style rolls of hair made from a wig and clipped into her hair. Mouse, an enormous mound of fluff and muscle with a wagging tail, padded along next to her with a plastic bowl that had been painted to resemble R2-D2’s head held onto his noggin with an elastic strap. He also wore a sign around his neck that saidBeep Boop Bleepin purple ink. He couldn’t really see much with the bowl on his head, buthe padded along happily next to her, wearing a black nylon working harness with an orange plastic pumpkin hanging from either side of it, each one full of candy and treats.
Harry Carpenter, Michael’s youngest, who had grown up with Maggie for a good long while and who was for all practical purposes her brother, wore a Luke Skywalker getup, complete with a glowing blue toy lightsaber that had somehow survived an hour in my presence without shorting out.
It had been a good hour and a half or so, walking the kids around the neighborhood, waiting in lines that formed at every house. There were so many people carrying lights, never mind the various tiki torches, battery-powered lights, and chemical lights the homeowners had put out, that the whole place had a merry, festival air, even as twilight faded from the skies. The Carpenter house was the most lit up of all, and I could see Charity and Michael handing out candy from huge tubs. God knows how they had gotten the candy shipped in, but they’d managed, as had many other houses in the neighborhood.
The air was full of happiness and peace, and it stood out in harsh contrast to recent months. Kids—including the kids staying at the castle—were running and laughing. It did my heart good.
Michael and his house were waging war on the darkness in the best way possible.
“I don’t know,” Maggie was saying to little Harry (who had begun to shoot up like a weed in recent months, and who was going to be at least as tall as his father). “It just feels weird, you know? All those rich kids.”
“You’ll be fine,” Harry said breezily. “St. Mark’s has this awesome computer program; I game with kids from there all the time. And you can take all kinds of cool classes.”
Maggie frowned and looked up at me. “Yeah, but living at the school?”
“It’s probably like Hogwarts,” Harry said.
“It’s not Hogwarts,” I said firmly. “But there’s enough security there that I won’t have to worry about you during the week. And I’ll visit for dinner, and on the weekends you can either spend time with the Carpenters or come see me at the castle.”
“Woof,” Mouse said happily.
Maggie smiled at the big dog. “I know. It’s just…you know. Different.”
“Life is all about change, sweetheart,” I said gently. “Maybe wait and see how it goes.”
“Hey,” Harry said, “that’s Kenton and his brother. I haven’t seen them since summer break. Can I go talk to them, Mister Dresden?”
He always called me that, to prevent confusion. “Sure,” I said. “Stay in sight, huh?”
“I will,” he said, and ran off to meet a pair of boys about his own age.
“It’s a good school,” Maggie said with a sigh. “But I won’t know anyone there.”
“You’ll know Mouse,” I said. “And you can take Bonnie with you, too. You’ll make friends.”
Maggie sank one hand into Mouse’s fur. “And…you know. Next summer? I’ll stay with you?”
“Darn tootin’, you will,” I said firmly.
That won a sunny smile from her, and I felt like I might float out of my shoes as I returned it.
“Happy birthday, Dad,” she said.
I leaned way over and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, punkin.”
—
Bear drove Molly and me to the Raith estate around ten o’clock in an armored limousine. We stopped at the heavily guarded gate, and she passed over our invitation, on fancy white paper inside a silver envelope.
