I've been in a lot of fights over the years. It never fails to surprise me the little things I've noticed. The birds were chirping in nearby trees. Distant shouts and laughter coming from the docks behind us were faint, their owners blissfully unaware of impending violence nearby. The hum of traffic from the highway droned, punctuated with the occasional horn beeping. Vibrant metropolitan sounds thrummed in the air. What I did not expect was Yang's fighting style.

She angled her left arm back behind her, pointing a bit to the side of me. The girl flexed her knee as if preparing to jump, and then she clenched her fist. Fire thundered out of her gauntlet making me shy away from it. It was worth noting that goons 'r us all jerked backward, too. Heh. When the blast went off, it was accompanied by a low thump and Yang took off like a shot. She lifted into the air a few feet and sailed toward the thug at the end of the line, swinging her left hand around to bear on the poor sap's face. He didn't have time to react, and there was a meaty clonk when fist met face. He dropped instantly, but she'd already moved on.

Yang's other gauntlet fired straight down, sending her up several feet. She twisted in the air in a kind of round off that sent her feet whipping into the next goon's shoulder hard enough to make him drop his baton and knock him into the two men standing next to him. I didn't get to see anything else, as the shock had worn off and I had my own opponents to focus on.

I raised my left hand and pointed at the ground between us and snarled, "Arctis!" causing a huge patch of ice to form across the asphalt. It spread out behind them, causing them to become unsteady as they strode forward. A couple of them slipped and fell, but I wasn't going to give them time to recover. I wouldn't be able to get them all, but I spread my fingers out, palm-down and shouted, "Forzare!" A wave of force flew from my hand and clipped three more at the ankles, sending them face first into the frozen parking lot. As I strode onto the ice, sure-footed, the remaining flunky wobbled toward me along with the mouthy hat man, who managed to walk carefully enough to keep his balance.

I heard a pair of blasts to my right in rapid succession, accompanied by heavy thuds and a cry, followed by what sounded like retching. I spared a glance long enough to see that two more of Yang's were down, one noisily emptying his guts onto the pavement. Yang herself was a glowing blur as she fought three on one. That was all the time I had, because generic thug led with a wild jab with his kukri. I batted it aside with a sweep of my staff contemptuously, then gripped the top of the staff and pivoted it in a wide arc that slammed into his shoulder. I heard a loud pop and his face went white, then he dropped with a gasp. The blade tumbled from his grasp and his good hand clutched at his dislocated shoulder.

The distraction was long enough that I didn't see the hit coming until after it had passed. It didn't even register as pain, but it did snap my head hard to the left. I whipped back around and I barely got my staff up to block the next shot coming in from McShades. He was pretty fast for a straight, and a little too steady on the ice. He rained down a flurry of blows with his sticks that I was able to keep up with. Our angle had shifted, and I could see that Yang was fighting at least five now. I didn't have time to spare concern for her. This guy was good. If I hadn't had the reflexes of the Mantle, I'd have been totally boned.

Nobody was prepared for Yang, though. She let out a high-pitched yell, and I vaguely recall seeing her fly fifteen feet in the air. When she came down, it was fist first. Thunder roared, and the next thing I knew thugs were flying everywhere, including one coming straight at his leader's back. He hit him; they flew into me, which felt what I'd imagine a freight train would be like. I was dazed for a minute, a high pitched ringing blaring in my ears. Then Yang was pulling people off of me. She was saying something, but it might as well have been a silent film. I tried to say something, and I'm sure it sounded like gibberish because the blonde crazyperson shrugged and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. I shambled to my feet and surveyed the damage.

The pavement had a small crater, presumably where she'd landed. Cracks radiated out from it, and all but two of the suits were sprawled around it. I didn't see any blood or guts anywhere. Looking back out at the lake, I could see people on the docks were shielding their eyes against the setting sun. Crap. Some had phones pressed to ears. Double crap. We needed to get gone, and fast. I definitely didn't want to be around when the cops showed up. The ringing in my ears faded to a distant whine, and sure enough there were sirens getting closer. I stumped over to my bag and snatched it up.

"Come on, Sparky McSplosion, we need to beat it before the fuzz hauls us in." She sidled up and quirked her lips in a sideways frown. Her gauntlet thingies shifted down into bracelet form with a quick shrug of her shoulders. Sooo creepy.

"Are you mad at me, Harry?" I kind of wanted to be, but it hardly seemed fair. I mean they did jump us, after all, and nobody was dead. We skirted around the boys and made tracks for the car.

"I suppose not. You did good, Yang." She beamed. I threw another glance over my shoulder at the bystanders. They were far enough away that I shouldn't be worried about a positive ID, but the hearse would be pretty recognizable. We'd have to ditch it and call a cab, or else call someone with wheels. I opened up the driver side door and Yang, not knowing any better, got in and scooted across the seat to the passenger side. I tossed the bag in and slid my staff behind the seat. I got in, shut the door and started the car, which growled to life. I backed out, careful to avoid the now-stirring men. We drove away at a calm pace, and I checked the rear-view mirror every few seconds. Chicago's finest didn't put in an appearance.

"Who's Mister Marcone, Harry?" Yang asked in a subdued tone.

"John Marcone is the crime boss in these here parts. He's also cruisin for a bruisin, if those were actually his men." I somehow doubted it. People who made a mess with his name on it tended to vanish permanently. I for the life of me couldn't think of any reason for him to want the spectacle we left behind.

"They weren't very good fighters," she said. I snorted. "I mean, does he pay them well?"

"Beats me, Sparky. He usually gets his money's worth, though." I cruised into a parking garage and didn't need long to find an empty spot. Most of the commuters were leaving to go home to picket fences and nice, hot dinners. "We've gotta ditch this ride and call a cab or something." A wry grin spread across Yang's face.

"I suppose it does stand out a bit, doesn't it?" I stuck out my lower lip and nodded.

"Like a sore thumb." I opened the door and dragged the bag out with me, pausing long enough to shrug into my duster. To hell with the summer heat. If someone came gunning for me, I wanted spell-reinforced leather between me and any potential incoming projectiles. The familiar weight settled over my shoulders, and I grabbed the bag and my staff. Yang had figured out how to open her own door. She stretched both arms in the air and wrinkled her nose when she took a deep breath.

"Whew! What's that smell?" I took a whiff. Having been on the island for several days, I got what she was asking about.

"Oh yeah, that's Chicago air. Lots of cars, plenty of exhaust. We don't have Dust here, so we use a different kind of fuel, and it doesn't exactly burn clean." She made an 'oh' face. "You get used to it." I pointed with my staff at the exit and walked toward it. Yang hop-shuffled to catch up and we walked out into the fading daylight. Yang stared up at the buildings and, I kid you not, pulled out her scroll and started taking pictures. "Tourist." She stuck her tongue out at me and grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, come on, Harry! Where am I gonna see buildings like this back home?"

"Point, I suppose." She turned and snapped a picture of me with a fiendish twinkle in her eye. "Hey now, I charge for that sort of thing!" I mock shouted. She giggled and put her scroll away.

"Really? How much?" she asked.

"Meh. A nickel. Works for Lucy."

"Sounds fair. Where are we going?" That was a good question. Pay phones weren't exactly growing on trees in this part of town. I thought there might be one over by Chinatown, but MacAnally's wasn't all that far away. My stomach rumbled at the thought of steak sandwiches, and it wasn't quite beer'o'clock, but what the heck. Mac would let me use his phone.

"I think maybe something to eat other than doughnuts is in order, don't you, Yang?" She nodded wholeheartedly.

"Oh yes, I'm starving. Nothing like a good fight to work up an appetite, right?"

"Damn skippy there isn't!" We trudged on while traffic whispered by. We got occasional looks from a few pedestrians, but most people were content to ignore us. Oddly enough, nobody stared, which was just as well. After what seemed like a sweltering eternity, we turned down the alley leading to Mac's and headed down the stairs.

When I opened the door, cool air and the smell of heaven washed over us. Stepping down into the room, I was glad to see that some things just don't change. Thirteen tables were scattered around the place, and as many columns carved with folklore stories and fairy tales held up the ceiling. There were ceiling fans whirring lazily overhead, providing relief from the day's heat outside. The crooked bar and it's thirteen bar stools were all empty, as were most of the tables. Two older men sat near the back playing chess. They glanced up for a moment, and though they didn't nod, there was a passing of recognition before they turned back to their game.

Mac stood behind the bar, methodically wiping down a glass. He nodded in my direction and said, "Dresden." Then he glanced over at Yang. "Miss." He hooked a thumb at the partially scorched sign, which read 'Accorded Neutral Territory'. Damn. I'd been hoping for some kind of reaction from the guy.

"Accorded Neutral Territory?" Yang asked. "Does that mean no fighting here?" She looked up at me, head tilted to the side.

"That's the idea, Sparky, or at least take it outside." I looked over at Mac. "I don't think she's a signatory, but you can expect good manners out of Yang, here." He nodded and said nothing. Yang bowed at the waist, which Mac returned. "It's hot and we're starved, Mac. Two sandwiches and beer for me, lemonade for her?" He gave me an 'Ungh,' and set out a beer, then poured a glass before turning to start our dinners. "Pick out a table, Yang." I fetched our drinks and joined her.

"Harry? I get the neutral territory thing, but what does accorded mean?" Yang asked. I set her drink down and pulled a chair out, taking a pull from mine while I sat down.

"Ahhh. Heaven," I said. "The Unseelie Accords are a set of rules governing behavior between the various supernatural nations."

"Oh, you mean like the Sidhe and... what else is there?" she replied.

"Give the girl a prize. There are lots of them, but the big names, let's see. Winter and Summer Courts, the White Court Vampires, the White Council, the Fomor. There are a handful of individual signatories, mystics, powerful entities-"

"Like John Marcone?" I glowered at that.

"Unfortunately, yeah." Don't ask, don't ask.

"How did he get in?" Dammit. I sighed.

"He had help to offer; we needed it and weren't going to get it anywhere else."

"Why?" I raked my fingers through my hair and took another pull from my bottle.

"You ever hear the saying, 'The devil you know is better than the one you don't'?" I asked.

"No, but I get what you're saying. He's a criminal, but he's got his uses, right?" Her face was unreadable.

"Don't get me wrong, Yang. I know exactly what he is. Ruthless, smart, and a villain, but he's also a man of his word. Now that he's a freeholding lord, he has a vested interest in protecting his territory, which happens to come under siege more often than any of us would like." Mac set two plates on the bar; I went and got them. Yang had leaned her chin onto a closed fist and looked lost in thought. That evaporated when I set her plate down. She took a bite and her eyes rolled up while her eyelids fluttered. I couldn't agree with her more, and set to.

We ate in companionable silence until it was all gone. Once we'd cleaned our plates, Yang dutifully stacked them and took her empty glass back to the bar. She said something indistinct, and Mac nodded, and then gave her a refill. When she came back, she turned the chair around and straddled it.

"What makes you think those men weren't who they said they were?" she asked.

"Doesn't track with what I've come to expect from John. He wants a sit-down, usually he asks in person or sends someone I know and they ask nicely." I mean, usually that's how it went. Since that business with Nick, I hadn't run afoul of Marcone's interests that I was aware of. I'd even helped the Brighter Future Society deal with the Fomor once since then; they were getting, well, bolder wasn't really the word. They were already without limits, but the incidents had piled up over the spring and summer.

"Is he someone we need to talk to?" she asked, ambiguously.

"Probably not worth the time. He isn't likely to know anything pertinent to your situation, and frankly, the less he knows about you, the happier I'll be." Yang was underage, but that didn't mean the weapons she carried wouldn't be of great interest to, Marcone, or anyone else, really. "We'll go ahead with what we're doing and avoid him unless absolutely necessary."

"Okay. Speaking of which, what are we doing, exactly?" she asked.

"I need to make a couple of calls, then, depending on who answers, we'll get a ride to the next place. Be right back." I sauntered over to the bar. "Mac, can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure," he said. He reached under the bar and plunked a rotary phone on the bar. "Trouble?" I shook my head.

"Dunno yet. Ask me again tomorrow." He looked over at Yang, who had stood and moved to watch the chess match in progress. The oldsters didn't seem to mind, and she was being quiet about it. Mac snorted, as if he didn't believe me. I picked up the receiver and started dialing.

AN - Just a few minor edits for polish. For those of you who don't follow me on Reddit, I wanted to apologize for the long wait, and to let you all know that I still have plenty to write for this story, but life may make that difficult in the coming months. I will try to update as often as I can, and I appreciate everyone's patience. Thanks for all the reviews and subs, too! The last two days I've watched my view count rise and it's really helped to cheer me up. You guys are awesome. :)