Dead Beat(55)

So I was panting and sitting flat on my ass when the air in front of me wavered, and a dark, hooded figure stepped forward from out of nowhere, one hand extended, some sort of fine mesh that covered her outstretched palm flickering with ugly purple light.
"Be very still, Dresden," Kumori said, her voice soft. "If you try to move, I'll kill you."

     
 

      Chapter Twenty-nine
Kumori stood about four feet from me-easily within reach of my staff, if I wanted to strike at her. But since I was sitting down and had only one strong hand to swing the staff, I wouldn't be able to hit hard enough to disable her, even if I somehow managed to hit her before she unleashed the power she was holding in her hand.
And besides. She was a girl.
Unless she proved herself to be some kind of monstrous thing that just looked like a girl, I wasn't going to hit her. On some rational level, I knew my attitude was dangerously illogical, but that didn't change anything. I don't hit girls.
I had the feeling she was quick enough to beat me, as she stood over me with the magical equivalent of a cocked and readied gun sparkling through the metal mesh over her right palm. I could feel the air vibrating with a low, steady note of power, and her stance was both confident and wary.
One thing I was pretty sure of-she was here to talk. If she'd wanted to kill me, she could have done it already. So I stayed sitting, set my staff aside, very slowly, and mildly raised both hands. "Take it easy there, cowgirl," I said. "You got me dead to rights."
I couldn't see her face within the depths of the hood, but I heard a dry note of amusement in her voice. "Take off the bracelet, please. And the ring on your right hand."
I arched a brow. The ring was spent, and probably didn't have enough juice left in it to push her back a step, but I'd never run into anyone who had noticed it before. Whoever she was, Kumori knew how wizards operated, and it made me even more sure that she was hiding her face because she was someone I might recognize-someone on the White Council.
I slipped the bracelet off my left hand and lowered it slowly to the stair beside me, but getting that ring off was going to be problematic. "I can't get the ring off," I said.
"Why not?" Kumori asked.
"Fingers on my left hand don't work anymore," I said.
"What happened?"
I blinked at her for a second. The question had been polite. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd have taken her tone for actual interest.
"What happened to your left hand?" she asked, her tone patient.
I answered her as politely as I could while staring at her, trying to figure her out. "I was fighting vampires. There was a fire. Burned my hand so bad the doctors wanted to take it off. There's no way I can get the ring off unless you want to come over here and take it yourself."
She was still for a moment. Then she said, "It might be easier if you would agree to a truce for the duration of this conversation. Are you willing to give your word on it?"
She wanted a truce, which meant that she had indeed come to talk, rather than to execute me. There sure as hell wouldn't be any harm in agreeing to a truce, and it might prevent hostilities that could be triggered by raw nerves. "In exchange for yours," I said. "This conversation and half an hour after its conclusion."
"Done," Kumori said. "You have my word."
"And you have mine," I said.
She lowered her hand at once, taking the odd mesh over it and its sparkling energies into the deep sleeves of her robe. I didn't take my eyes off her as I reclaimed my shield bracelet and fixed it back onto my wrist. "All right," I said. "What did you want to talk about?"
"The book," she said. "We still want your copy."
"You'll have to talk to the Corpsetaker," I said. "He and his ghoul took it from me last night. But if you go looking, he looks like a girl in her early twenties. Great dimples."
The hood shifted, as though Kumori had tilted her head to one side. "You know of the source of the Corpsetaker's name?"
"I figure he's a body switcher," I said. "I've heard necromancers can do that kind of thing. Move their consciousness from one body to another.
Exchange with some poor sucker who can't protect themselves. Corpsetaker was in that old professor's body. I figure he swapped with his assistant, and then killed the old man's body with the girl's mind inside."
The hood nodded, conceding me the point. "But I have difficulty believing your story. Had the Corpsetaker taken the book from you, he would have killed you as well."
"Wasn't for lack of trying," I said, and gestured at my leg. "He was overconfident, and I was a little bit lucky. He got the book, but I got away."
She was silent for a moment and then said, her voice thoughtful, "You're telling me the truth."
"I'm bad at lying. Lies get all confusing. Can't keep them straight."
Kumori nodded. "Then let me make you this offer."
"Join or die?" I guessed.
She exhaled softly through her nose. "Hardly. Cowl has a certain amount of respect for you, but he believes you too raw to make some sort of alliance feasible."
"Ah," I said. "Then you'll probably go to the second offer I always get. Go away and you won't kill me."
"Something like that," Kumori said. "You have no real idea of what is going on here. Your ignorance is more dangerous than you know, and your continued involvement in this matter could cause disastrous consequences."
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Withdraw from the field," she said.
"Or what?"
"Or you will regret it," she said. "That isn't a threat. Simply a fact. As I said, Cowl has a certain respect for you, but he will not be able to protect you or treat you gently should you continue to involve yourself. If you stand in his way, he will kill you. He would prefer it if you stood clear."
"Gosh. That's so altruistic of him." I shook my head. "If he kills me, he'll have my death curse to contend with."
"He has already contended with such curses," Kumori said. "Many times. I advise you to retire from the field."
"I can't do that," I said. "I know what you people are doing. I know about the Darkhallow. I know why you're doing it."
"And?"
"And I can't let that happen," I said. "Insurance in Chicago is expensive enough without adding in a petulant new deity tearing up the real estate."
"Our goals are not so different," Kumori said. "Grevane and the Corpsetaker are madmen. They must be stopped."
"From what I've seen of old Cowl, he's a couple of french fries short of a Happy Meal too."
"And you would do what?" Kumori asked. "Prevent them from reaping the bounty of the Darkhallow? Take the power for yourself?"
"I want to make sure nobody takes it," I said. "I don't particularly care how I get it done."
"Truly?" she asked.
I nodded. "Now here's where I make you an offer."
She hesitated, clearly taken off guard. "Very well."
"Bail," I told her. "Leave Cowl and the Sociopath Squad to their squabbling. Give me what information I need to stop them."
"He'd kill me in a day," she said.
"No," I told her. "I'd take you to the White Council. I'd get you protection."
She stared at me from within her hood, utterly silent.
"See, Kumori, you're sort of a puzzle," I said. "Because you're working with these necromancers. In fact, I'm willing to bet you aren't bad at necromancy yourself. But you went out of your way to save someone's life the other night, and that just doesn't jive with that crowd."
"Doesn't it?" she said.
"No. They're killers. Good at it, but they're just killers. They wouldn't take a step out of their way to help someone else. But you went way the hell out of your way to help a stranger. It says that you aren't like them."
She was silent for a moment more. Then she said, "Do you know why Cowl has made a study of necromancy? And why I have joined him?"
"No."
"Because necromancy embraces the power of death, just as magic embraces the power of life. And as magic can be twisted and perverted to cruel and destructive ends, necromancy can be turned upon its nature as well. Death can be warded off, as I did for the wounded man that night. Life can be served by that dark power, if one's will and purpose are strong."
"Uh- huh," I said. "You got involved with the darkest and most corruptive, insanity-causing forces in the universe so that you could jump-start wounded bodies to life."
She moved her hand, a sudden, slashing motion. "No. No, you idiot. Don't you see the potential here? The possibility to end death."
"Uh. End death?"
"You will die," she said. "I will die. Cowl will die. Everyone now walking this tired old world knows but one solid, immutable fact. Their life will end. Yours. Mine. Everyone's."
"Yeah," I said. "That's why they call us 'mortals.' Because of the mortality."
"Why?" she asked.
"What?"
"Why?" she repeated. "Why must we die?"
"Because that's the way it is," I said.
"Why must that be the way it is?" she said. "Why must we all live with that pain of separation? With horrible grief? With rage and loss and sorrow and vengeance ruling the lives of every soul beneath the sky? What if we could change it?"