Charlie helped the stunned mayor to his feet. Marlowe began barking commands, and the scattered officers formed into smaller units of five or six, fanning out and taking up positions all around the church.
Monsters large and small poured across the grass, the front line of the war spreading wider with every second. Our gnomes charged into a cluster of their angry hobs. A cloud of pixies met a swarm of brownies midair, tiny corpses dropping as they clashed. The bodies of Nudd’s goblins began littering the ground as well. They had been the most fearless into the breach. From somewhere nearby, an ax whipped through the air and landed only a few feet from the already addled mayor.
“H-how can we even tell which ones are on our side?” Spade stammered, picking up the weapon and holding it out in front of himself with shaking hands.
“Iffin’ they’s tryin’ tae kill ye,” Nudd spat back at him sourly, “probably baddies.”
Lydia Lee emerged from our crowd of allies with a litter. A stocky faun with horns that curled back around the side of his head and legs like a goat jogged over from the ranks behind her to help her maneuver the fallen officer onto it. The policeman did not look like he was breathing.
A bright burst of light and a wave of dry heat hit me from my left. I spun. Shihab had ignited a monstrous woman made of briars and thorns. She hardly seemed to notice that she was aflame as she lashed at the jinn with vines like barbed whips. A screech sounded behind me and I spun again. A gaunt figure with gray skin pulled taut over its angular bones leapt toward us from the melee. “Wendigo!” Jackaby cried out. It sank its yellow teeth into the faun, who dropped his end of the litter. Jackaby ran to help him.
“Behind you!” screamed Spade. I spun in time to watch the mayor hurl his ax at a hob who had trotted up right behind Nudd. The butt of Spade’s weapon smacked the ugly elfin creature in the eye. It stumbled, dazed, and Nudd drove his own little sword into its neck. The hob dropped to the earth, very dead. Nudd and Mayor Spade exchanged a nod of tentative mutual respect.
Jackaby had pulled the wendigo off the bleeding faun. The wretched thing lashed out, and it was all Jackaby could do to hold the snarling creature at arm’s length. It shredded his already tattered coat sleeves, but the skin beneath continued to heal as soon as it was cut. “I could use some assistance,” he grunted.
I stepped up and took a swing at the wendigo’s neck with Morwen’s blade. It was like chopping through dry kindling. The creature collapsed, decapitated. I felt sick and numb watching its head roll to a stop.
Jackaby scooped the faun into his arms. Jenny leaned down and took the other side of the litter. I followed close behind them, watching over my shoulder for the next terror to come streaking through the fray at us. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.
And then I saw Charlie and Charlie saw me. It was just a moment in the midst of madness. In another instant Dupin would be clapping him on the shoulder, calling him back into action, and I would be rushing to keep up with Jackaby, Jenny, and Lydia. But for just that moment, Charlie’s deep brown eyes locked on mine and my hands stopped shaking. He radiated calm. It was what made him an exceptional peacekeeper at the best of times—and what made him an exceptional leader at the worst. Charlie smiled at me, and in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I found myself able to believe that everything was going to be all right.
And then the moment was gone.
Voices were screaming, and the air smelled of gunpowder and blood. We made our way to the back of the allied forces, where Mona O’Connor had already set up cots for emergency triage. “First customer,” Lydia Lee called out as we approached. Mona rushed to meet us and helped maneuver the unmoving policeman onto one of the makeshift beds.
Lydia looked at her grimly as she stood up with the litter under her arm. “I’m going back for more,” she said. She swallowed. “We’re going to need a lot more beds.”
“We’ll make do,” Mona answered. Lydia hurried away. “His heart’s not beating,” she said.
“He’s already dead,” said Jackaby heavily.
Mona ignored him. She was at the policeman’s head. She pressed his arms together into his chest and then raised them both up over his head, then repeated the motion.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asked.
“Silvester method. Artificial respiration.”
“He’s gone,” said Jackaby.
“Do I tell you how to hunt fairy tales, or whatever it is you do?” Mona barked. “I’ve seen breath come back to those longer gone than him.”
A series of shouts erupted from the battlefield, and the earth shook. The colossal Mr. Dawl had fallen. Over the heads of our allies I could see the Unseelie army’s frost giant, the j?tun, stomping into the fray. An orange blur darted across the plain just ahead of me. I glanced up. Bounding toward me was what appeared to be a miniature troll riding an orange tabby cat like a warhorse. I raised my blade as it raced toward us, but Jackaby caught me before I could swing.
“Not that one!”
I paused.
“Hammett.” Jackaby addressed the diminutive figure. “Hatun would be proud of you.”
The little troll barked something in a language I could not fathom.
“Not yet,” answered Jackaby. “We still don’t know where they’ve taken her.”
The troll snarled and pulled at the reins, and the cat bounded away. Hammett sliced at the heels of his enemies as they disappeared into the mess.
Loup, his jaws red with blood, leapt across the clearing, snapping and snarling as frightened soldiers scattered. Lydia Lee was trying frantically to maneuver a bleeding gnome onto her litter. Her head shot up and she froze. She was directly in the wolf’s path. Loup stalked forward, eyes bloodshot, growling. And then, very suddenly, a chocolate brown hound stood between her and the wolf.
Charlie had always seemed so large in his canine form. He did not seem large now. The wolf loomed over them, big and black and built of raw muscle and razor-sharp teeth. Charlie was half his size. The wolf did not slow as he neared them.
Marlowe yelled a command, and a cadre of policemen opened fire. Loup roared as the bullets ripped into him. When the volley paused, Charlie bounded forward and lunged for the wolf’s neck, but Loup was too fast for him. He caught Charlie with a nasty bite that nearly tore his ear clean off. Charlie yelped and stumbled into the dirt.
Jackaby was holding me back before I realized I was lunging forward.
“Let go of me! He’ll kill him!” I said.
“No, stop! Look!” Jackaby pointed.
Movement erupted at the tree line. A pack of great burly hounds burst onto the field. The lead hound was larger than Charlie, his fur patterned in rich browns and jet blacks with flecks of white about his muzzle. A dozen more raced behind them.
“Is that—?”