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Death Masks (The Dresden Files #5) Page 23
Author: Jim Butcher

"Ulsharavas," I murmured, willing energy into the words. My voice shook oddly, skittering around tones in what seemed a random fashion. "Ulsharavas. Ulsharavas. One lost in ignorance seeks you. One darkened by the lack of knowledge seeks your light. Come, guardian of memory, sentinel of the yet to come. Accept this offering and join me here."

At the conclusion of the ritual words, I released the power I'd been holding, sending it coursing from me into the circle, and through it to seek out the oracle spirit in the Nevernever.

The response came immediately. A sudden swirl of light appeared within the copper circle, and briefly made the barrier around it visible as a curved plane of blue sparkles. The light drizzled down over the homunculus, and a moment later it twitched, then sat up.

"Welcome, oracle," I said. "Bob the Skull thought you might be of some help."

The homunculus sat up and stretched out pudgy arms. Then it blinked, looked at its arms, and rose to stare down at itself. It looked up at me with one eyebrow raised, and asked, in a tiny voice, "A Cabbage Patch doll? You expect me to help you while wearing this?"

It was a cute doll. Blond ringlets fell to her plush shoulders, and she wore a pink-and-blue calico dress, complete with matching ribbons and little black shoes. "Uh, yeah. Sorry," I said. "I didn't have anything else with two arms and two legs, and I'm pressed for time."

Ulsharavas the Cabbage Patch doll sighed and sat down in the circle, legs straight out like a teddy bear's. She struggled to pick up the comparatively large cup of whiskey, and drank it down. It looked like she was taking a pull from a rain barrel, but she downed the whiskey in one shot. I don't know where it went, given that the doll didn't actually have a mouth or a stomach, but none of it spilled onto the floor. That done, she thrust a tiny fist into the tobacco and stuffed a wad of it into her mouth.

"So," she said, between chews. "You want to know about the Shroud, and the people who stole it."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Uh. Yeah, actually. You're pretty good."

"There are two problems."

I frowned. "Okay. What are they?"

Ulsharavas peered at me and said, "First. I don't work for bokkor."

"I'm not a bokkor," I protested.

"You aren't a houngun. You aren't a mambo. That makes you a sorcerer."

"Wizard," I said. "I'm with the White Council."

The doll tilted her head. "You're stained," she said. "I can feel black magic on you."

"It's a long story," I said. "But mostly it isn't mine."

"Some of it is."

I frowned at the doll and then nodded. "Yeah. I've made a bad call or two."

"But honest," Ulsharavas noted. "Well enough. Second is my price."

"What did you have in mind?"

The doll spat to one side, flecks of tobacco landing on the floor. "An honest answer to one question. Answer me and I will tell you what you seek."

"Yeah, right," I said. "You could just ask me for my Name. I've heard that one before."

"I didn't say you'd have to answer in full," the doll said. "I certainly do not wish to threaten you. But what you would answer, you must answer honestly."

I thought about it for a minute before I said, "All right. Done."

Ulsharavas scooped up more tobacco and started chomping. "Answer only this. Why do you do what you do?"

I blinked at her. "You mean tonight?"

"I mean always," she answered. "Why are you a wizard? Why do you present yourself openly? Why do you help other mortals as you do?"

"Uh," I said. I stood up and paced over to my table. "What else would I do?"

"Precisely," the doll said, and spat. "You could be doing many other things. You could be seeking a purpose in life in other careers. You could be sequestered and studying. You could be using your skills for material gain and living in wealth. Even in your profession as an investigator, you could do more to avoid confrontation than you do. But instead you consign yourself to a poor home, a dingy office, and the danger of facing all manner of mortal and supernatural foe. Why?"

I leaned back against my table, folded my arms, and frowned at the doll. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"An important one," she said. "And one that you agreed to answer honestly."

"Well," I said. "I guess I wanted to do something to help people. Something I was good at."

"Is that why?" she asked.

I chewed over the thought for a moment. Why had I started doing this stuff? I mean, it seemed like every few months I was running up against situations that had the potential to horribly kill me. Most wizards never had the kind of problems I did. They stayed at home, minded their own business, and generally speaking went on about their lives. They did not challenge other supernatural forces. They didn't declare themselves to the public at large. They didn't get into trouble for sticking their noses in other people's business, whether or not they'd been paid to do so. They didn't start wars, get challenged to duels with vampire patriots, or get the windows shot out of their cars.

So why did I do it? Was it some kind of masochistic death wish? Maybe a psychological dysfunction of some sort?

Why?

"I don't know," I said, finally. "I guess I never thought about it all that much."

The doll watched me with unnerving intensity for a full minute before nodding. "Don't you think you should?"

I scowled down at my shoes, and didn't answer.

Ulsharavas took one last fistful of tobacco, and sat back down in her original position, settling her calico dress primly about her. "The Shroud and the thieves you seek have rented a small vessel docked in the harbor. It is a pleasure craft called the Etranger."

I nodded and exhaled through my nose. "All right then. Thank you for your help."

She lifted a tiny hand. "One thing more, wizard. You must know why the Knights of the White God wish you to stay away from the Shroud."

I arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"They received part of a prophecy. A prophecy that told them that should you seek the Shroud, you will most assuredly perish."

"Only part of a prophecy?" I asked.

"Yes. Their Adversary concealed some of it from them."

I shook my head. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Ulsharavas said. "You must hear the second half of the prophecy in order to restore the balance."

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Jim Butcher's Novels
» Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)
» Captain's Fury (Codex Alera #4)
» First Lord's Fury (Codex Alera #6)
» Storm Front (The Dresden Files #1)
» Fool Moon (The Dresden Files #2)
» Grave Peril (The Dresden Files #3)
» Summer Knight (The Dresden Files #4)
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» Death Masks (The Dresden Files #5)
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» White Night (The Dresden Files #9)
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