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.”

I flipped the pancake. I’d timed it right. It was golden brown.

“If they boot me,” I said, thinking through it aloud, “it means that I will no longer have the protection of the Council. I won’t be an official wizard.”

“You’ve made a great many enemies over the years,” Ebenezar said. “So have I. If you were outcast from the Council, your enemies—and mine—would see you occupying a weakened position. They’ll do something about it. How much protection can Mab provide you?”

“Mab,” I said, “is not all that into safety. She mostly provides the opposite of that, actually. The way she figures it, the only way she could make me perfectly safe would be to cut my throat and entomb me in amber.”

The quip did not draw a smile from the old man. He stared at me with craggy non-amusement.

I sighed. “It isn’t Mab’s job to protect her Knight. It’s supposed to be the other way around. If something comes along and kills me, I clearly wasn’t strong enough to be her Knight in the first place.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously,” he said.

I flipped the pancake onto the pile and poured out batter for the next. “If it gets bad, I can always fall back to Demonreach.”

“God, if they knew the whole truth about that place,” Ebenezar muttered. “And then what? Stay trapped on your island for the rest of your life, afraid to step off it?”

“So don’t let the motion go to a general vote,” I said. “You’re on the Senior Council. Pull rank. Assume control of it.”

“I can’t,” Ebenezar said. “Without a quorum, it’s got to be a general vote, and four of the Senior Council are going to be at the peace talks when the vote takes place.”

My stomach twisted a little. “Which four?”

“Me, Cristos, Listens-to-Wind, and Martha Liberty.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. My grandfather was a cagey old fox, with a thick network of alliances throughout the White Council—and almost as many enemies. The Merlin himself couldn’t stand Ebenezar, and of the three Senior Council members who would preside over the next Council meeting, only the Gatekeeper had ever shown me any kind of fondness. Even if the vote could go to the Senior Council, I’d lose two to one.

Of course, I wasn’t sure about how I would fare among the general population of the White Council, either. Wizards live a long time, and they don’t do it by taking unnecessary risks. If you look up unnecessary risk in the White Council’s dictionary, my picture is there. And my address. And all my personal contact information. And my permanent record from middle school.

“You need to talk to some of them face-to-face,” Ebenezar said. “Shake some hands. Make sure they know who you are. Reassure them. You only have a few days, but if you move fast, I think you can gather enough support to defeat the motion.”

“No,” I said. “I can’t. Not without neglecting my duties as a Warden and the Winter Knight both.”

“What?” he asked.

I told him about my meeting with Ramirez that morning. “I’ve been assigned to look out for you at the summit and to liaise with Winter.”