Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(9)

In our world, maybe the closest thing to inviolable laws are the ancient traditions of guest-right and host-right. In them, guests are to be honored and treated as members of the host’s own family. And they, in turn, are expected to behave as respectful members of the host’s own family.

And in this case we all were actual family, only my grandfather didn’t know it.

But Thomas backed off a bit more, his tense frame easing out of its predatory stance, and my grandfather lowered his staff and turned until he was partially facing away from Thomas.

“Sorry, Harry,” Thomas said. “Won’t happen again.”

I nodded at him and glanced at the old man.

“I owe you an apology,” my grandfather said to me, with heavy emphasis on the pronouns. “Shouldn’t have behaved like that in your home. I’m sorry.”

Well, clearly this morning wasn’t going in anyone’s photo album. But it wasn’t going to result in a funeral, either. Take your wins where you can get them, I guess.

“Thank you,” I said to them both. I held out my hand, and Thomas passed me the chef knife’s handle.

I put the knife away and cleared my throat at my grandfather.

He eyed Thomas, the look a threat. Then he abruptly eased his stance and spoke in conversational tones. “Those pancakes I smell?” he asked, setting his staff in the corner by the door.

I put mine with his. “Yeah. Just making us some breakfast.”

“Harry,” Thomas said, “I’m going to go.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

He eyed Ebenezar, his lips compressed. “Yeah. I do.”

“Thomas,” I began.

My brother held up his hand to forestall me, his face a thundercloud, and stalked out.

My grandfather watched him go until the door closed behind him. Then he glanced up at me from behind the ridge of his shaggy eyebrows.

“Thanks for that,” I said.

“You should thank me,” he said without heat. “Telling you, you don’t know them like you think you do.”

“The White Court might be bad on average,” I said. “But that one’s okay.”

“Which is exactly what everyone they’ve ever seduced will tell you about them,” my grandfather said, scowling. But he held up a hand and his tone turned apologetic. “Look, Hoss. Your business is your own. I don’t come riding in here all the time trying to run your life. And I shouldn’t have thrown a wrench in whatever you had going with the vampire. But you’re young, and I got experiences with them and perspective on them that you don’t. I don’t want you to figure it out the hard way, that’s all.”

I frowned at the old man.

If he was explaining his reasoning instead of leaving me to do it myself, he was worried.

“There he is!” Ebenezar said, smiling as Mouse came shambling over to greet him. He ruffled the dog’s ears with brisk fondness. “I don’t have much time, so I’ll come right to it. You’re in trouble.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. I went back into the kitchen and poured batter onto the griddle. “First time we’ve spoken face-to-face since Chichén Itzá. All business, huh, sir?”

He took that in for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We’ve all had our hands full since that night,” he said. “People have been dying. You don’t know what it’s been like out there.”

“I missed you, too,” I said. “I’m likewise glad to see you alive and in one piece.”

“There isn’t time for this,” he said.

“Pancakes?” I asked. “I’m always pretty hungry after my morning constitutional.”

The old man’s voice hardened. “I’m not kidding, grandson,” he said. “There has been a motion raised before the general Council to strip you of your status as a member of the White Council entirely.”

I arched an eyebrow sharply. “Huh. First the Council forces me to wear one of those damned grey cloaks whether I want one or not. Now they’re talking about kicking me out? I’m going to get whiplash.”

“You’re going to get more than that if the motion passes,” he said, heat in his tone. Then he visibly took a moment to forcibly calm himself. “Harry, I want to get caught up, too. I want to talk. Clear the air. And we will. But right now is no moment to let your emotions run your life.”

I scowled down at the pancake. I’d had all kinds of practice in keeping my emotions in check lately. “All right,” I said. “Truce. For now. What pretext is the Council basing this upon?”

“An aggregate of various factors,” he replied. “Your nonstandard elevation to full wizard, for example. The number of times you’ve involved yourself in high-profile cases. Your insistence on operating openly as a wizard for over a decade. Not least of which, the conflict of interest they claim now lies upon you due to your service to Queen Mab. A service that has apparently also brought a proven warlock into Mab’s influence beside you.”

“It’s all true,” I said. “I haven’t lied to anyone about any of it. It’s all on the record. So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that trust is getting harder and harder to come by in the White Council,” Ebenezar said. “Your choices have made you an outlier. Suspicion naturally falls upon someone in your position in times of strain.”