Stars and stones, Little Chicago worked. It worked well. A surge of jubilation went through me, and my speed increased in proportion. I flashed through the streets, seeing faint images of people, like ghosts, the unsteady reflections of those now moving through the real Chicago around me. But then the spell wavered, and I found myself moving in a circle like a baffled hound trying to pick up a scent trail.
It didn't work.
I made an effort and stood back in my own body, staring down at Little Chicago, badly fatigued.
Exhausted, I reached for my backpack, sat down, and fumbled Bob into my lap.
His eyes lit up at once and he said, "Don't get me wrong, big guy, I like you. But not that way."
"Shut up," I growled at him. "Just tried to use Little Chicago to find Molly's trail. It fizzled."
Bob blinked. "It worked? The model actually worked? It didn't explode?"
"Obviously," I said. "It worked fine. But I used a simple tracking spell, and it couldn't pick up her trail. So what's wrong with the damned thing?"
"Put me on the table," Bob said.
I reached up and did so. He was quiet for a minute before he said, "It's fine, Harry. I mean, it's working just fine."
"Like hell," I growled. "I've done that tracking spell hundreds of times. It must be the model."
"I'm telling you, it's perfect," Bob said. "I'm looking at the darn thing. If it wasn't your spell, and it wasn't the model... Hey, what did you use to focus the tracking spell?"
"Lock of her hair."
"That's baby hair, Harry."
"So?"
Bob let out a disgusted sound. "So it won't work. Harry, babies are like one big enormous blank slate. Molly has changed quite a bit since that lock was taken. She doesn't have much to do with the person it got snipped from. Naturally the spell couldn't track her."
"Dammit!" I snarled. I hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. I hadn't ever used a lock of baby hair in the spell before, except once, to find a baby. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."
A tiny mistake.
I was only human.
And I had failed Molly.
Chapter Thirty-four
I turned away from the table and hauled myself laboriously up the ladder to my living room.
Charity sat on the edge of the couch with her head bowed, her lips moving. As I emerged, she stood up and faced me, tension quivering through her. Thomas, who had a kettle on my little wood-burning stove, glanced over his shoulder.
I shook my head at them.
Charity's face went white and she slowly sat down again.
I went to the kitchen, found my bottle of aspirin, and chewed up three of them, grimacing at the taste. Then I drank a glass of water. "You make those calls?" I asked Thomas.
"Yeah," he said. "In fact, Murphy should be here in a minute."
I nodded at him and walked over to settle into one of the easy chairs by the fireplace with my glass of water, and told Charity, "I thought I could find her. I'm sorry. I..." I shook my head and trailed off into silence.
"Thank you for trying, Mister Dresden," she said quietly. She didn't look up.
"It was the baby hair," I said to Charity. "It didn't work. Hair was too old. I couldn't..." I sighed. "Just too tired to think straight, maybe," I said. "I'm sorry."
Charity looked up at me. I expected fear, anger, maybe a little bit of contempt in her features. But none of that was there. There was instead something that I'd seen in Michael when the situation was really, really bad. It was a kind of quiet calm, a surety totally at odds with the situation, and I could not fathom its source or substance.
"We will find her," she told me quietly. "We'll bring her home." Her voice held the solid confidence of someone stating a fact as simple and obvious as two plus two is four.
I didn't quite break out into a bitter laugh. I was too tired to do that. But I shook my head and stared at the empty fireplace.
"Mister Dresden," she said quietly. "I don't pretend to know as much about magic as you do. I'm quite certain you have a great deal of power."
"Just not enough," I said. "Not enough to do any good."
In the corner of my eye, I saw Charity actually smile. "It's difficult for you to realize that you are, at times, as helpless as the rest of us."
She was probably right, but I didn't say as much out loud. "I made a mistake, and Molly might be hurt because of it. I don't know how to live with that."
"You're only human," she said, and there was a trace of pensive reflection in her voice. "For all of your power."
"That answer isn't good enough," I said quietly. I glanced at her, to find her watching me, her dark eyes intent. "Not good enough for Molly."
"Have you done all that you can to help her?" Charity asked me.
I racked my brain for a useless moment and then said, "Yeah."
She spread her hands. "Then I can hardly ask you for more."
I blinked at her. "What?"
She smiled again. "Yes. It surprises me to hear myself say it, as well. I have not been tolerant of you. I have not been pleasant to you."
I waved a tired hand. "Yeah. But I get why not."
"I realize that now," she said. "You saw. But it took all of this to make me see it."
"See what?"
"That much of the anger I've directed at you was not rightfully yours. I was afraid. I let my fear become something that controlled me. That made me harm others. You." She bowed her head. "And I let it worsen matters with Molly. I feared for her safety so much that I went to war with her. I drove her toward what I most wished her to avoid. All because of my fear. I have been afraid, and I am ashamed."
"Everyone gets scared sometimes," I said.
"But I allowed it to rule me. I should have been stronger than that, Mister Dresden. Wiser than that. We all should be. God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of love, of power, and of self-control."
I absorbed that for a moment. Then I asked, "Are you apologizing to me?"
She arched an eyebrow and then said, her tone wry, "I am not yet that wise."
That actually did pull a quiet laugh from me.
"Mister Dresden," she said. "We've done all that we can do. Now we pray. We have faith."
"Faith?" I asked.
She regarded me with calm, confident eyes. "That a hand mightier than yours or mine will shield my daughter. That we will be shown a way. That He will not leave his faithful when they are in need."