Under a blood red sky

Saerian followed Freddy, and Freddy followed Saerian. It was almost a game, and a happy one, at that.

The demon knew, without question, that this was not *really* Freddy. It was a man named Kyle, who also worked at the Renaissance Faire in the summer as a knight. He knew how to joust, he had two kids and a beautiful, exotic-looking wife. But during the fall season, Kyle joined the troupe that worked the corn maze as a legendary, razor-fingered killer.

The truly interesting part, the demon mused, was that Kyle's thoughts were becoming Freddy's thoughts the longer this cat-and-mouse game went on. The man was, for all intents and purposes, becoming Freddy. He believed. He believed. And that made it so, because Kyle would run loose through York tormenting people, killing...

Oh, this was all too good. The demon wondered who else was in the maze. He hoped someone was Hannibal Lecter. Dear God, he hoped.

From below where he sat, hidden, Saerian heard the sound of metal scraping metal. Kyle was running those metal fingers down the wall of the building, and they'd hit the dumpster. Saerian had forgotten the watch in his pocket but could hear it ticking, now. He knew Kyle could, too. He was counting on that. When he turned the watch over, after leaving the curiosities tent, he'd read an inscription on the back of it: THE WHITE ROOM AT MIDNIGHT.

What Kyle didn't seem to really care about, and the one thing that made this less fun for Saerian, was that this was not a dream. This was the real, waking world. Saerian knew a thing or two about torture through dreams. It was why he was participating in this little chase at all.

He waited for Kyle to find him, to recite a bad line from "Nightmare on Elm Street," and smiled up at him. "Freddy," Saerian said, getting to his feet, "we're going on a trip."

The demon clapped his hand onto Kyle's sweatered arm, opened the pocket watch, and waited until the second hand hit 12.

Like they'd never been anywhere else, Saerian and Kyle simply appeared in the White Room. The Conduit sat there, in the center, motionless.

This was when Freddy decided to lose it.

Maybe it was the teleportation. Or the large predatory cat sitting right in front of him. Saerian would never know for sure.

"Where are we?" he growled, raising his glove. "I'll cut you in two." The threat was calmer, not that growl. Trying to keep the upper hand.

All at once, the big cat shifted, changed, and grew. As any Wolfram and Hart employee would tell anyone who needed to know, the Conduit didn't choose its shape.

Its beholder did.

A perfect clone of Phaedra stood there, now, where the cat had been. Smiling. "Interesting choice, but not surprising. This," she said, circling Kyle, "is interesting."

Kyle swiped at her stomach, cutting it open. It healed almost immediately. Freddy did not look pleased.

"Glad you got our message. You see, we hate you, you hate us," the Conduit said. Saerian nodded. "But if we help you, truly help you, you'll have the upper hand. Without us, you won't." The Conduit smiled, then. Phaedra's smile. She reached out a hand and levitated Kyle, willing him to be quiet. He was quiet.

Her eyes focused on Saerian. "We would like to supplement your power. That makes your bringing this one with you somewhat perfect."

All at once, The Conduit flexed its hand, then made a fist. A glowing blue light spread from Kyle's chest, outward, engulfing his entire body. Once that was done, The Conduit turned her eyes to Saerian.

"All of his power. It's yours."

Saerian arched an eyebrow. "His?"

"You said it yourself. He believes he's Freddy. Freddy's power. Over nightmares."

The demon laughed. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but are you fucking insane? Freddy is a fictional fucking character. I've got an A-class wizard riding my ass, a handful of hunters and a vampire I personally designed to be indestructible. I cannot help anything in nightmares."

The blue light was transferring now, from Kyle's chest to Saerian's, in a thin line of power. Saerian could feel it vibrate down to Jack's skeleton.

"You think we aren't being generous enough? I should kill you where you stand."

But just the same, the light changed from blue to red. "What's that?" Saerian asked, a slight hint of nervousness in his voice.

"It's a present," the Conduit answered.

Once the lights had dissipated, Kyle lay lifeless on the floor. The Conduit removed the glove from his hand and handed it to Saerian.

"What kind of present?"

She put the glove on his hand, and backed away, smiling. "You'll have to see. Enjoy ruling their dreams. And I wouldn't worry too much about the wizard. Or the hunters. Or her." The Conduit looked down at its body, then back up to his face. "What is it she says?"

"I now leave you to God," Saerian said, without hesitation.

The Conduit smiled and disappeared.

It was a gathering that had not been seen in recorded history. Every council leader, every being of power was gathered in the clearing that had been declared Accorded Neutral Territory for the duration of the meeting. Leaders from various nations, packs, clans, courts. Some Harry could recognize immediately. Others, he had only known through rumor. The clearing swelled with power, and Harry himself was distinctly uncomfortable. As the representative of the Unseelie Court, it was his job to ensure the Accords were followed, as well as representing his Queen in this matter. Mab might have had the power to control this lot, but Harry wasn't entirely certain of his own ability to do so.

Still, he took down the names of all those present. And when Fix, the Summer Knight, arrived and stood beside him, Harry was relieved. Fix had been the Summer Knight for several years now, and had more knowledge than Harry would admit. Winter and Summer were perpetually at war, but in this matter, they were united. It was enough of a shock to everyone that Harry suspected many here now had come simply to see what would make the Queens of the Sidhe set aside their eternal struggle and work together.

Arthur Langtry, the Merlin of the White Council, gave Harry a dirty look. He'd never liked Dresden, and fully believed the young wizard to be a time bomb waiting to explode and destroy them all. The fact that this upstart youth had maneuvered his way into power as the Winter Knight did not pass his attention, nor his suspicion. He filed the information away, giving the Knight a barely respectful nod. This answered the question of where Dresden had been the last several months, after being presumed dead.

Mavra, the eldest vampire of the Black Court, avoided Dresden. She loathed the wizard and was determined to see him dead. But at this meeting, he was untouchable. She scowled as he was approached by Lara Raith, who had arrived in proxy for her father, the King of the White Court. Raith flirted openly with Dresden, but the wizard resisted her charms and she moved on through the crowd to take her place.

Harry waited until all the dignitaries were in place, keeping his expression neutral. This was the very last place in the world he wanted to be, but it was his Queen's order. Well, his Queen and Fix's. At least the changeling was in the same boat as him. Before anyone could start to get impatient (and for immortal and semi-immortal beings, they could be damn impatient), Harry nodded to Fix. The changeling quickly drew up his will and closed the circle. Trees surrounding the clearing groaned and shifted, closing the physical circle at the same time a magical barrier was erected. The air immediately began to swell with the pressure of those contained within.

There were plenty of beings who could easily break it and leave. But the matter was ceremonial, traditional. The circle ensured privacy, and no magical communications or scrying could penetrate it. Any technology to do so would have burned out by now, given the magical energies moving about.

"Thank you all for coming," Harry announced, his stern baritone ringing clearly through the clearing. "On behalf of Mab, Queen of Winter, I bid you all welcome. This conclave has been called to address an issue of utmost importance, and one that has attracted the attentions of both Summer and Winter alike." That said, he turned to face a woman in a crisp, cream-colored business suit. "I now open the floor to the representative of the Senior Partners, the Wolf, Ram, and Hart, to give us this most pressing news."

"Thank you, Mr. Dresden," the woman said, her voice very pleasant, like nothing at all was wrong. She rose from her spot at the U-shaped table and began to pace, high heels clicking on the floor.

"Ladies and gentlemen, higher beings," she began, with a nod to a section of the table where, sandwiched between an angel and a demon, a hunter from South Dakota sat. The hunter was incredibly uncomfortable. He scowled.

"I realize that this meeting is... unorthodox at best, but it's to the advantage of everyone here to discuss something that's come to the attention of both the Senior Partners of my firm and Queen Mab. Lights, if you please?"

At the back of the room, a young man in a suit--another lawyer from Wolfram and Hart--hit the lights. The woman turned on a lap top, and a screen on the back wall sprang to life.

"I know we're all familiar with the Hellmouth in Sunnydale," she said. "Some more than others." She offered a smile to Rupert Giles, who sat at the end of the table, nearest the door, just next to a vampire named Nan Flannigan, head of the American Vampire League. "In all of my time at Wolfram and Hart, in all the meetings we have held, all of our plans, not a single employee was aware," she said, clicking a button, "that this existed."

Behind her on the screen, there was an aerial image of an expanse of land.

"Now, I know that looks like just a piece of land in the middle of nowhere," she said, offering everyone a beautiful smile. "And it is. You'd be right to think that." She waited a beat.

( Until it opens. )