Fix twitched his hips and kicked me in the chest. It wasn't hard, but in my condition it didn't need to be. It knocked me over.

"Sir Knight . . ." Lily said. "I . . . Fix, it burns."

"Stop this," he urged quietly. "Let's get out of here, find someplace quiet for you to meditate until you've got it under control again."

"I need to . . . He tried to hurt you."

Fix's voice hardened. "The ground is burned black, Lily," he said. "And there's frost all over my mail. There are burns all over his arms and shoulders, but I wake up fine, lying in the only grass left on the hilltop." He held up his sword. The last six inches or so of the blade were simply gone, ending in a melted mess. The point must have been lying outside the area my shield had covered. "But it was hot enough to do this. Forget what anyone said. Who was protecting me, Lily?"

She stared at Fix, the furious fire still curling around her, lifting her hair, burning from her eyes. Then she closed them with a groan, and the fires went out. Lily turned her head sharply away from me. "This is too much," I heard her whisper. "I'm going to fly apart."

"My lady?" Fix asked.

Lily made a snarling sound, turning eyes that still flickered with embers toward me. "Stay where you are, Sir Knight," she said, spitting the last word. "If you move or lift weapon or power against our purpose, I will not show mercy a second time." Then she turned and swept back toward the pyramid formation of Sidhe assaulting Demonreach. Her feet left clear imprints in the soot and ash on the ground, and little fires flickered up in the wake of her steps, dying away again when she had passed. She did not say a word, just lifted her hand and again something like an invisible sandblaster started pouring into Demonreach.

I watched, too drained to move more. I did, I noted, have burns on my arms. I didn't feel them. They didn't look like anything epic, but they were there.

"Fix," I said. "Thank you."

He looked at me, his expression guarded, but nodded his head slightly. "It seemed I was in your debt, Winter." His eyes sparkled, just for a second. "Couldn't have that."

I found myself laughing weakly. "No. No, it might break something."

"It broke my damned wrist." He snorted. "My jaw isn't happy either. Good punch."

"I cheated," I said.

"Our business, there's no such thing," he said. "I should have known you were goosing me, talking like that. Most of the fighting I've done, there hasn't been much in the way of taunt and insult."

"Raise your standards. There's almost always time for an insult or two."

He smiled, though it was a bit pained. He waggled the fingers of his right hand experimentally. "Are you done?"

I exhaled slowly, and didn't answer.

"Howmuch of what you told her is true?" he asked.

"What did you hear?" I asked him.

"Pretty much everything after you took the knife out of me."

"Nail," I corrected him, and held it up so he could see. It still had his blood on it.

He looked a little pained. "Harry, would you mind?"

"No," I said, and wiped the blood into the earth, scrubbing it off the nail.

"Thanks," he said. He squinted at the wall and then at me. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Trade secrets," I said. "How did you guys get here? I know you didn't take a boat."

"Flew in," Fix said. "Shape-shifters. I dropped from a hang glider over the lake and parachuted in."

"Damn. You got extreme."

"I'm getting there," he said.

"So you landed here and put the circle up?"

"Trade secrets," he said cautiously. "You realize we still aren't sitting in the same dugout, right? I can do the frenemies thing. It's kind of traditional. But we are not on the same side."

"No. You're on the wrong side," I said. "Maybe more than one."

"That's what every conflict sounds like," he said. "Not everyone can be equally right, Harry."

"But believe you me, everyone can be equally wrong," I said. "Fix, this is about more than Winter and Summer."

He frowned at that.

"Tell me this," I said. "I'm not asking for anything specific, anything that I might be able to use against you later." As if Maeve would let me have a later. "Just tell me: Has Maeve ever asked you to take something at her word. And just told you something was true? Straight up?"

Fix's frown deepened.

"And you thought to yourself, 'Hey, that's odd. She never just tells anyone anything straight up.'"

His lips parted slightly, and his eyes fixed on Maeve.

"And you thought that if anyone but one of the Ladies had said it, you would wonder if she was lying. But she didn't leave any wiggle room, so it had to be the truth."

"So?" he asked, very quietly.

"So let me ask you this," I said. "If you assume that she can lie, even if it was just that once-how does it change the picture?"

Fix might have had some foolish idealism going, but he'd never been anywhere close to stupid. "Oh," he breathed. "Um."

"Remember when Lily opened the door to Arctis Tor for us, back when?"

"Sure."

"When we got inside, the Leanansidhe was popsicled in Mab's garden," I said. "Because something had invaded her and influenced her actions. Mab was in the middle of some kind of exorcism based on the model of an ice age."