Chapter Thirty-Two

As the day wore on the silence of the pigeons was back to deafening, even when Basin governors who'd endorsed me showed a neat turn of speed and announced, in time for the eastern evening news, that as they agreed a double-standard was unacceptable, not to mention unethical, impractical, and, they strongly suspected, unlawful, they were filing joint suit against both parties, and invited others to join them. The timing meant they got to give interviews and soundbites, adding disappointment with National Committees and disgust with negative tactics while cheerfully agreeing anyone who didn't show in St Louis would rightfully be electoral toast. Irpa and Jeremiah did interviews for California and Kentucky, which slid right into the Eastern news cycle, and Warren one for Washington. While he was being serious and giving the Governor some love, he let it be known I would not be endorsing any independent against Washington or Oregon.

"That's not just because of their early and important endorsements of Ms Hauptman, Ms Ligatt, but because they were already allies in most of what matters. They've strongly supported the Columbia Restoration and Clean Up the Basin!, been helpful to the Freed, and are on-board with Ms Hauptman's core policies, so I'm happy to work with both, going forward."

For the last section Kyle joined him. Almost too nervous to watch, earlier, he'd recovered his panache, and besides saying good things about the practical and investigative help Warren gave when spouses abused one another or children, he spoke directly to the Pink Vote, and got out gay since 1776 and still going strong. That made the Eastern news in a hurry too, with de facto co-option of Washington and Oregon to my slate, and if there was spluttering from usual suspects, there was a lot of respect and amusement. There was also a soundbite from the Man, meeting an Asian leader in town, and skilfully making sure questions stayed on topic until the end, when he noted that as I'd run rings round both National Committees, twice, as well as every candidate who'd spoken Monday, he didn't think impugning my ability such a smart tactic. And alas, he wouldn't be attending in St Louis, as he had prior commitments, but you bet he'd be watching all he could, and excuse him, Asian affairs were calling.

They can't have been calling that hard because he rang half-an-hour later, nominally to introduce the Asian leader, who was strikingly polite, but more to say he'd really enjoyed the broadcast, and more DC people than would say so were very happy with me for scaring the pants off both National Committees and making them look just as leaden-footed as they were. He also wanted conversations with Warren and Jeremiah, but though I introduced them — or reintroduced, as he'd met Warren during the Accords — that had to wait. When he rang off, Jeremiah rolled his head.

"Glory be. I'm not at all sure how you do this so smoothly, Mercy."

"I grew up bearding Bran, Jeremiah. And I've dealt with the Man often enough by now. You just need that lunch we missed, and so do I."

I'd defrosted bolognese, and spaghetti was quick. Cooking soothed my nerves, and food calmed my stomach, as well as everyone else's. We did more planning for launches, Mary joining us with my diary, but once we were done and the table cleared she headed out to call any number of people, and I took Frank and Jeremiah home, Jill and Brent riding herd. In the Garden Jeremiah adverted his eyes from the statue, making me wonder how eighteenth-century he still was, and I gave him permission to tell his Alpha about it privately, if Bran hadn't already done so. We went to Philly first, so Jeremiah and Jill could meet Rachel, and her congratulations held us up a little, but not as long as Jeremiah's relieved Alpha, Alan Villiers, and pack-mates. I made nice, introducing Jill and Brent, and let Jeremiah run through arrangements for Friday, answering questions from Alan before pleading business. There wasn't that much, but Jeremiah needed his pack more than I did, and however quickly I passed through the Garden Underhill couldn't compress time spent nattering in Lexington. Returning to the hall I felt powerful magical working, and so did Jill, but after a second I knew what it was.

"It's OK, Jill. Gray Lord in the house. Edythe, as promised, I think."

Kyle came out of the kitchen. "Correct, Mercy. Warren took her and Irpa to the basement, and is calling wolves in one at a time. Mary Jo's been done, and is sitting in the kitchen saying nothing. Do I need to know why?"

"Not really. Another security layer because we are expecting action."

"Action like Sunday action?"

"Sort of. Vamps, anyway. But let me check on Mary Jo."

She was only magic-frazzled, and said she'd get over it. Warren had stayed downstairs because none of the wolves called in were happy with proximity to such potent magic, and neither was he, though he was sucking it up and resting a hand on Honey's furry back. Irpa was looking respectfully interested, and Edythe gave me a sunny smile from where she sat over a pile of sticks with some tufts of fur, despite magic I could sense building as her hands moved with little flicks and finger-twiddles.

"Mercedes Elf-friend. You are being very entertaining again, and admirably calm."

"I'm glad to hear it, Edythe, as I am about these fetches."

"So you should be. Making them for creatures I'm not abducting is quite the challenge, if all in a good cause."

"An excellent one, Edythe." I wondered what she was or had been into abducting, but introducing Jill was more urgent, so I did, and nods were exchanged. "Are you inviting Gray Lords tomorrow, Irpa?"

"The Prince is coming, to promise Gray Lords will never command any particular vote. Bend my ears off, if they feel strongly about something, but no orders. I'm not sure if others will come."

"Why crowd your stage?" Edythe gave a smile that was not human, nor any child's. "Run along, now."

The last was to, not the pile of sticks, but the replica of Honey it had abruptly become, and only the absence of pack-bonds told me which wolf was which. The fetch did run along, trotting out as Honey shuddered and immediately began to change. Brent, Jill, and I turned our backs to give privacy, Irpa ignored her, and Edythe gazed with distant interest until Ben sidled in on four legs, looking nervy. I opened my pack-bonds wide to send him, Mary Jo, Honey, and Warren Alpha reassurance, with an image of their wolves tied into the net the pack was, duplicate fetches standing out like sore thumbs because they were not connected to anything, and felt their relief. Ben calmed enough to ease over, so Edythe could pluck a small tuft of fur, magic flowing, while Irpa set down another pile of sticks.

"How are you controlling the fetches, Warren?"

"They stick with whoever their originals were told to stick with, Mercy, and obey commands. We checked with Mary Jo's."

"The magic takes a copy of them, Mercedes. A Changeling is no use unless it can fool humans." Edythe gave a different smile I didn't think much less scary. "There are usually embedded compulsions, of course, but I'm leaving those out."

"Good to know. I have read of … personality leaks, from the makers."

"Call it style, rather. It depends who's doing what with the stolen, and in this case there aren't any."

"Interesting. Anything else you may say about this magic, Edythe?"

"Not that is useful, Mercedes. It is only a form of glamour." She gave me a look. "We were surprised you did not ask for your own fetch."

"Huh. There might be circumstances, Edythe, but I'm being about honesty, and the difference is risk. Even Adam thinks Sunday ruled out a sniper-shot at me. Wolves on guard, though … With attack delegated. Wulfe might not be able to prevent it, if he tries, and no wolf is expendable. What happens to a fetch if a silver bullet hits it?"

"Nothing, Mercedes. Not even a hole."

"Even if the slug hits stick?"

"They're not sticks until someone undoes the fetch. Oh, and as wolves can't speak, they'll bark three times when the questions are asked."

"OK." For a value of OK that escaped me. "So bullets won't deviate?"

"Who knows? I wouldn't stand behind one if shots are being fired."

"Also good to know."

"Just for a change, I have a question, Mercedes. I had not anticipated your modesty about Underhill's statue. Can you explain?"

"Easily. Imagine it was of you without your glamour on, or anything else except a token ruff."

I got a very sharp glance.

"That bad?"

"How should I know, Edythe? But it's not really the skin show. I'm over that, mostly. It's no choice, no warning, about exposure to gazes, ringing old bells that don't really match but still jangle. And I simply don't think of myself that way."

"What way would that be?"

"Giant, nude, made of ice, in the act of killing, take your pick."

"Heroic." Warren shrugged, and Ben yipped agreement. "It's true, Mercy. Darryl and I have talked about it some, but it's just you. You do things that make all our heads spin, climb ever higher on the Mohs Scale, and wonder why we feel like doing triple bows of awesomeness."

Edythe laughed. "Do wolves do that, Warren Smith?"

"With cause, Edythe. And forgive me, but one thing Underhill and Gray Lords might consider is that for Adam having a statue of his naked wife and mate in what counts as a public place is not so easy."

"Ah. Perhaps we might, at that. But truth is truth, Warren Smith, and Mercedes Elf-friend did do that deed, just there, most unexpectedly."

"She and my boss would both be a lot happier with a well-draped statue, all the same. Still antsy, but happier."

I couldn't disagree, but Honey finished changing and once dressed I gave her a hug and sent her upstairs with orders to keep to the kitchen with Mary Jo. Vamp agents could be watching and we didn't want multiplying wolves noticed. As I sat again Ben's fetch surged into existence, trotting off, he began to change, and a few moments later an edgy George sidled in, so I went back to reassuring. A while later Ben completed an unusually fast change, dressed rapidly, and headed upstairs without saying anything beyond a single, self-explanatory Fuck! I amused myself considering the magic I could sense, intrigued by what I eventually tagged as something usually hostile, even inimical, used benignly, and sharply aware of how much raw power it had to take to do that. However there were things they wouldn't do, and I wouldn't ask for, Gray Lords were not stinting where they did agree to aid, and with four-legged fetches done Edythe did a two-legged Warren. taking hair from head and forearm, to play night-shift sergeant. When the process was complete, fetch-Warren went on duty, real-Warren headed upstairs to keep out of sight and chill with Kyle, Irpa made farewells, saying she'd see me in good time tomorrow, and I made sure Edythe knew how glad I was.

"It was my turn, Mercedes." She shrugged. "And you have dealt with us more than fairly, which is as clever of you as we have come to expect."

"I try, Edythe. But tell me, if you will, are you staying now?"

"Yes. I am the necessary cover after sunset."

"Right. Food, then, and yo-yo space? There's fresh banana-bread, unless anyone's scoffed it in my absence."

"Those would be welcome."

I doubted she'd really dented her magical reserves but did look a little peaky, and ate more than one slice of banana-bread while she and Jill watched me assemble a bacon risotto. George, Ben, Mary Jo, and Honey were not at ease with Edythe, but neither was I, just used to it, and they were all surfing news and views, so there was conversation. What I'd said about wolf security and incited haters had been confirmed by more than one Alpha, and was true, however it concealed an anti-vamp war-footing, but they were having to cope with questions about wolf unaging. The other bicentenarians had come out, and so had some wolf demographics. Adam had been right Alpha average age was up, but the massed numbers between 25 and 40 in pack profiles, and the not-at-all-human drop off above that, was getting through excitement about the sudden extension to what living memory might mean. Ben was checking websites.

"Your request for emails to those di— … idiots in DC is being answered, Mercy. Heavy traffic. And you've tipped a bunch more people off the fence, though why they'd still be on it is a … mystery — registration and donation rates are sharply up again." Ben watching his language for anyone but Adam was one for the books. "All the sites announced today are very busy, and holding up. And Alan Villiers gave a cracking statement about honouring and respecting Stourbridge's experience, and supporting him in his campaign and as a senator. You could do one of those for Warren."

"Adam's on it, Ben. He and Darryl are at KEPR now."

"Oh. Right. Thanks."

I pushed a little. "You weren't always so keen on Warren. Nor others. But he got some pack-love today."

"No, I wasn't. And yeah, he did. Things change, Mercy. And I'm not quite so … fried, any more."

"Joel moved it on." Mary Jo shrugged. "So Warren's gay, which my wolf still finds weird, but we can hardly accept Joel and fret about Warren."

"And we don't have Paul singing his little hate songs." Honey cracked a knuckle. "Which is good. He dished out a lot of poison."

"Oh yeah. Adam and I noticed." I finished chopping and went to stirring and measuring rice. "The Freed's attitudes play in too."

"Right." George nodded. "They have strong feelings about those who were in Wyoming that night. I have strong feelings about them, too, because they get my serious respect. Oh, and I was meaning to say I'm glad it worked out with Boz Lucas's wife. He's a good cop."

"So I gathered, George. And me too — I like her. Honesty and some attitude, but not sass. Do you know her kids?"

"Not really. Met 'em a few times, at family events. Seemed OK."

"Jesse has already roped them in to who knows what."

"I bet. That's girl's a rocket." He hesitated. "So are you, Ms Widepaw. I really enjoyed that training, so thanks for that. We've never run across a grizzly while hunting, only black bears."

Jill regarded him. "It's been a while since anyone called me a rocket, George, so you're welcome. The black bears leg it, I imagine."

"Un huh."

"So would a lone grizzly, probably, faced with a werewolf pack, but maybe not so fast. We're hard to argue with."

"Right."

"What did you particularly like about the training, George?" Rice went into boiling water.

"New movement." He moved his hands vaguely. "When you're with us, Mercy, hunting I mean, you occupy less space. So does Joel, as Presa Canario. Ms Widepaw takes more, so patterns change. Odd, at first, but interesting, and good to start getting right."

Edythe laughed, not so scarily, but still. "A graceful perception, yet for us Mercedes Elf-friend occupies ever more space, however she still manages to slide though very narrow gaps."

I was spared further discussion when Jesse and guards arrived, followed by Adam, Darryl, and Auriele. Dan and the Joes were wary of Edythe, relieved not to stay after reporting school had again become intense but Jesse contained it with what amounted to her first campaign report, and several teachers sent excited and amused congratulations. Darryl and Auriele seconded those, and Adam gave me a kiss.

"You nailed it again, love. Bran's happy, and so am I. Where's Warren?"

"Relaxing. Asleep, probably. Edythe's magic generated some nerves."

"I bet. Those fetches are something else." He turned. "But they make me very glad, Edythe, as does the presence of your power. I cannot know, but my gut still tells me danger is imminent."

"It is no problem, Adam Hauptman, and I am happy to be here. Mercedes is always entertaining, and a superior cook."

"There's that."

He hugged Jesse, then went to be a good Alpha with George, Ben, Mary Jo, and Honey, reinforcing assurances we could always tell fetch from wolf, however it freaked them to have wolf-doubles, while I added rice to the wok and Darryl told me about the KEPR interview.

"Flanagan did it, because Caroline was giving Mid-West evening news more soundbites, and she was good. Fed us fair questions, and pushed back once or twice. Private life, including voting, and pack life is clear, but when the vote's a state senator's it's not private. Then again, as Adam said, if there was a vote about anything that would affect pack, he and Warren would be in agreement anyway." He grinned. "Flanagan had the guts to ask if that meant pack always came first. I said basic safety does, as family does, but we all work as well as being pack, and everyone knows it. They're just testing the political autonomy, and as that's pretty new in practice, however clear in theory, I can't blame them. Then we had to shave some lines about homophobia, but made it clear we were all behind Warren as well as you, and a thoroughly modern equal-opportunity pack recognising female dominance as well as tibicenas and pink wolves."

Jesse laughed. "You said pink wolves on air, Darryl?"

"I did, and proud of it. Not a big demographic, but they all count."

"And 1776?"

"Them's the facts, ma'am. And don't forget that even so he's a babe-in-arms next to Irpa, as all are to Medicine Wolf." Darryl shrugged. "It worked well enough, Mercy. The round tables would be good sooner than later, though. Unless the outing happens pressure will build."

"I know. Talk to Frank and Warren. And I'd think Irpa will be up for one on bridges." I looked at Jill. "Has Bear asked you about this one?"

"Yeah, Momma mentioned it. I don't mind more recent remembering, but you don't ask a lady her age."

"I do." Edythe looked interested. "You're the oldest avatar I've met. Two thousand plus?"

"For a while now, Old One. I'm still not coming out to humans about that, Mercy, but I'll cop to remembering this land without Second People, and help retell what their coming meant. I've vented about history books often enough I can't refuse a chance to improve them."

"Good, thanks. And though it's a tad early, it's close to sunset and I have worked up an appetite today, so time to lay the table, please, people. And someone get Warren?"

They did, while I did final spicing and stirring, and though Edythe's power was still more disturbing than ap Lugh's, because she so obviously wasn't the nine-year-old girl she looked, she wasn't trying to cause problems. Warren got some warmth and, when the KEPR interview came on, pink wolves laughter and suggestions Jesse should get appropriate fur-dye, but it was only joshing. Adam's tightly controlled but growing tension had all wolves alert, and my own nerves were buzzing with disquiet as much as fear, because if it went the way I thought it was going to be clinically brutal. And as both Adam and I would bet on the wee small hours, when vamps felt most at home, we still had a lot of waiting to do.

Jesse had homework, and Adam and I calls to make. There wasn't a normal evening routine to maintain these days, but pack members moved around some, and several TVs were in use. Ben was watching infra-red screens, Glocks were being cleaned and checked, and though it wasn't remotely concealable Adam had acquired a flame-thrower from somewhere, as well as a variety of harpoons to ponder. Edythe sat spinning her yo-yo, and once Jesse came down, work done and Glock holstered, responded to a polite question about technique and started teaching her how to extend slow sleepers. And outside the fetches kept up their roving patrol, in and out of shadows and pools of security light, the media pack dwindled to its apparently resident rump, and light faded as Kennewick started catching some was so not going to happen for us, but after a while Adam called everyone into his study, killing lights behind them but leaving doors open, and set up a rota for watching screens, though detection software was running. Everyone was feeling it, and we had to do something, so I brought out the customised Clue! and Edythe sat up, yo-yo vanishing.

"That is not a standard set, Mercedes."

"No it isn't, Edythe. There are garden, fields, riverbank, and woods, as well as rooms, the victim is whoever we want, characters are Olympian gods, and the means of murder are combusting trousers, elk stampede, magic sword, golden shillelagh, imploding wig, giant anaconda, petrification, deboning, and boring to death. Fancy a game?"

"You are odd even for a coyote, Mercedes, but so very pleasingly. And I can hardly object to a new experience."

"Good. Let's make the victim Paul, to celebrate being shot of him."

Wolves were good with that, Jill quirked an eyebrow, and we had very satisfactorily established that Dionysus got him with an imploding wig on the riverbank, Zeus petrified him in the woods, and Hera somehow persuaded the elk to stampede in the conservatory, when Edythe went stone still.

"Magic is being used. Wulfe the Sorcerer. A cloaking spell, I think. It is outside your property, and staying there."

Adam and I exchanged glances.

"He's having to tread a line."

"Yeah, probably. Nothing on the infrared?"

Ben was on watch. "Not yet, Adam. But the fetches have noticed."

How it worked I had no idea, but fetches disturbed the temperature profile around them enough for software to pick them up.

"They sense magic." Edythe cocked her head. "Undead assemble. More than a dozen and less than a score."

"Marsilia?"

"That I cannot tell, Adam Hauptman. The Undead are opaque."

Medicine Wolf said the same, and though I'd learned to read Stefan some, and even Hao and Wulfe a little, that was external — body language, known gestures and moods, and, at a level I'd never been able to analyse, smell. And while I was magically aware of any vamp close to me, meaning twenty or thirty yards, upped some by the cloak and open space, I didn't get detail, so opaque would do. I put the cloak on, holding Manannán's Bane, and when I asked them to boost sensitivity became aware of Wulfe's spell, though I couldn't have identified it as Edythe had — it was just a dirty pressure at a distance that made me think of the way he sensed things by licking them. But it was keeping itself off our property. I could sense fetches too, wolves standing and fetch-Warren behind them, all staring. Software bleeped.

"Fifteen, Adam. No, sixteen. Two behind, the rest assembling where they were last night. Looks like a couple are carrying something heavy."

"Heat signature?"

"Slightly cold. Longish."

"Cold iron." Edythe had no doubts. "Not electric."

"What might be rifles. Optical resolution's gone, and IR's not clear."

"How many?"

"At least three, maybe more. Could be swords."

"Underhill is standing by, Edythe?"

"Oh yes. It will all be very quick."

I sincerely hoped it would, in every sense for everybody, but another minute dragged by before I felt a different kind of magic building swiftly, and so did Edythe.

"It comes soon now."

The newer magic felt like a much purer force, simple strength, and understanding clicked.

"Wulfe's going to boost them up and over, Adam. Shots at the fetches and lob them in."

Adam stared at me. "That crude?"

"Feels like it. They'll be the blindingly angry ones, and he wants them dismissed. He's betting we can sense them. Yesterday was a heads-up. And it means none of his magic will trespass on our land, if you squint some." I looked at Edythe. "That's telling you he's keeping his word, Fae style."

Her eyes glittered at me. "Probably, though I wouldn't put it like that to Nemane."

I didn't hear shots but felt all five fetches grazed by silver slugs as the newer magic surged. Power boiled around Edythe, Ben shouted "In the air!", and as I sensed a far greater and more familiar power manifest high above us I was out of the door at coyote speed, Adam and others behind. Before I was into the lounge light from windows was brightening, strange shadows flickering out from furniture, and crossing the room my eyes locked on fourteen human shapes beginning to look up as they flew towards the house. I couldn't see the disbelief there had to be on their faces, but as Underhill's iris widened and sunlight thickened, pouring down like a cloudless noon, I felt Wulfe's cloaking and impetus spells shatter and a snap of power as he and presumably Marsilia translocated out. Then within a split second all fourteen flying vamps exploded, dust pouring from trouser ends and sleeves that, deprived of mass, flared in air, twisting and fluttering down to earth to join shoes, watches, rifles, and something heavy enough to clang that plummeted onto drive and verges. I felt very hollow and slightly sick as well as indecently triumphant.

"Well, that's that."

Despite the press of wolves, humans, and Jill, all staring, Edythe was beside me, and sunlight started to fade as I felt the iris begin to close.

"Is low level sunlight for a few minutes more possible, Edythe?"

The closure halted.

"Yes, but only a few. Why?"

"Clean-up." I grabbed a pack of dust-masks I'd left on the sofa, and threw it to Darryl. "Wolves, get everything that fell except dust, and assemble clothes and effects by vamp, please, fast. Edythe, no vision or photography from anyone outside would be very good. Jesse, stay inside. Jill, I don't know if you felt it, but all fetches were grazed by silver. Take Brent and find slugs while Adam and I see what made that clang?"

The midnight sun visible through the iris was weird but made gathering at speed easier, and Edythe assured me no-one outside would see anything, never mind photograph it. There was a sour aroma of dust, but earth fae appeared, we had masks for them, and they could do something magical in the way of raking that put dust into clean cotton sacks they carried, and breeze cleared air. It was done in a few minutes, wolves and fetch-Warren holding piles of clothing and shoes as they headed back in, earth fae putting sacks at the river's edge for (Nuthatch told me) Medicine Wolf to remove. Adam and I were staring with some disbelief at a solid iron battering-ram forged with a snarling wolf-head when my phone began to play 'Twenty-First Century Schizoid Man'. Wolves and earth fae froze, and I answered, putting it on record and speaker.

"Wulfe."

/Mercedes. I seem to have suffered a degree of sunburn./

"Not as much as others. Silver was fired at wolves."

/Yes. I could not stop that, but made sure the rifles fired wide./

"Silver grazes sting badly."

/So does my sunburn. Omelettes, eggs./

I looked at Adam, who grimaced but nodded.

"Alright. We'll allow sunburn for silver grazes, but only this once. And, really, Grond?"

/A trophy for you, Elf-friend. Call it a Tolkien collectable. I spun them some hocus about a wolf-head to open a wolf's home, but the only magic in it was to shatter if it hit glass, and the sunlight will have wiped that as it did my other spells./

He was telling truth, and Adam heard it too.

"Fair enough. We note your lack of magical trespass. Does this new openness extend further?"

/Certainly. Who hears me?/

"Wolves, another avatar, earth fae, and Edythe."

/Ah. Why am I surprised? But know Marsilia will tomorrow night register this seethe, and as our funding is oddly compromised, requests aid from the Borrowed Warchest for her Code-compliant members and the sheep of those now dust. Other sheep are in reasonable shape. Hao will also register, and Stefan, and we'll all work on other seethes./ His voice became … wryer, not a tone I was used to from vamps, even Stefan. /I had foreseen more difficulties with that while Iacopo yet rules, but after your unbelievably fast staking of di Ragusa, which greatly unsettled, your method tonight will … mmm, terrify covers it./ Oily wryness became creepy irony. /Generous of you, all things considered./

"I try. Everything is in hand, then?"

/It will be by tomorrow night. Just now I have some … call it shock to deal with. So many at once … reverberates./

Seethes weren't packs, but had bonds of one sort and another, and I wouldn't wish multiple casualties on any pack.

"We do too, having killed fourteen. And you might want to practise saying Personal Blood Donors rather than sheep. You'll speak to Westfield no later than tomorrow night?"

/I will. Tell him Hao will sit in./ Slyness slithered over irony, like another of his creepy licks. /And I did enjoy your pitch-perfect baiting of Iacopo. He was so cross. Three-to-one on he comes himself, next time./

The connection was cut and I rolled my head. "Ugh. I want a shower." But I wasn't going to get one, and waved a hand. "Get moving, people."

Brent came back from the gate. "Found the slugs, Mercy. All embedded in the drive. Jill's marking them, and neighbours are stirring."

"I bet. Ask Underhill to close the iris, please, Edythe."

Sunlight shrank and vanished, and I felt the night ease as great power left. Our outside lights seemed paltry, but we could still see. Adam shook himself, and so did Brent.

"Our gladness to Underhill, if you will. Brent, get Grond inside, please."

"Sure." He picked it up, hefting. "Sixty-some pounds. Huh. Who knew vamps read Tolkien?"

"Wulfe has. The rest didn't get it."

"True."

He jogged towards the house, and Edythe laughed softly.

"Wulfe the Sorcerer made a Tolkien joke. I wonder if he knew about your orc metaphor. Interesting. Do you still wish to leave the fetches until Leslie Fisher is here?"

"If you're willing, Edythe. The logic hasn't changed."

"Well enough. But your neighbours and the FBI are your business, and I have my own. My magic will return to me when you undo the fetches, and photography will slowly become possible again. Fare you well Overhill, Mercedes Elf-friend, Adam Hauptman, and all here."

"You too, Edythe, Underhill. We have been very glad of your company."

"Yours was not boring, Mercy, though Hera would never let elk into a conservatory."

The arch closed behind her while I was wondering if it was a tease or if Olympians existed and whether being Clue! characters would offend them. It didn't seem an imminent threat, but neighbours were, and when Adam and I set off for the gate three fetches trotted beside us while fetch-Honey went on a sweep with fetch-Warren.

"Hera?"

"Don't ask, love." He was holding my hand. "What matters is it worked, and we have right dust, even if the vamps were sheep to the slaughter."

"Un huh. I thought that too. The irony's enough to count as cosmic justice, though seeing them crumble …"

"I know. But they brought it on. End of story."

We weren't arguing, just beginning to deal, and I let it go. They had brought it on, and if I was a bit squicked I wasn't repining. We paused to consider the buried slugs we could smell and Jill had marked with circles of gravel, but a call from the roadway beyond the gate drew us on, and as we focused on the old man ignoring bewildered media pointing cameras and mikes Adam turned on his apologetic smile.

"Mr Andrews. I'm sorry for the disturbance, but you can stand down. All's well." A wobbly old shotgun was lowered, and I breathed easier. "Someone fired shots into our property from the scrubland up there, and though they didn't hit anything it triggered magical alarms. Whoever it was is long gone, but I thank you for coming to our aid like this."

"Alarms, Mr Hauptman? Looked like the sun jumped back up."

"I know, Mr Andrews, but if someone attacks in the dark, you need light, so we arranged some. Just file under magic."

"Huh. I heard the shots. Volley."

"Yeah. Five we've found. Silver, so it was probably someone Mercy's upset campaigning, I'm afraid. Have you suffered any harm beyond being so rudely disturbed?"

"Noo, not really. Made me jump." Mr Andrews scowled. "I don't hold with firing blind at a property. No, sir. It ain't right, and a coward's way."

"No argument, Mr Andrews. But forgive me, I expect your wife's waiting for reassurance, and I hear SUVs on Chemical Road. I dare say they'll want statements."

"Course they will. Write it all down. But if you're all OK here?"

"We are, Mr Andrews, and we thank you for being so neighbourly. It's a kindness we won't forget. And our best to your wife, also."

A little Alpha push saw him turning back, shotgun at port arms, and I gave Adam's hand a squeeze and spoke too quietly for any mikes.

"Remind me to take Mrs Andrews one of those fruitcakes she loves. And we should tell him truth, when it breaks. Walking over took guts."

"True." We listened to vehicles turn onto South Piert. "I like those fruitcakes too. You usually only do them at Christmas."

"Too much stirring. And too rich. That's Tony's car, but the Feebs aren't far behind."

It was, stick-on rooflight flashing as it pulled up and Tony and some uniforms spilled out.

"Mercy, Adam. We have reports of shots fired and weird light. Saw the light myself, like a great shaft."

"Hi, Tony. Someone fired five silver slugs, and set off our alarms, but no harm done besides the disturbance. Mr Andrews over the way might have things to say — he came to check on us. But as I'm officially campaigning as of yesterday I imagine Feebs are on their way."

"Un huh. Fisher called to say she was responding, with some Special Forces guys. I've heard rumours they were in town."

"Yeah. Someone's feeling protective." Uniforms began to push media back, and I dropped my voice. "KPD will be told more, Tony, but not today, and that's not our choice. Orders from the top, and I don't mean the Marrok. Clay knows some things, but ask privately."

"Hell. Citizens in danger?"

"Only us, Tony, and we won tonight. Plus, 'shots fired, no harm done, Feds took over' is a ream less paperwork than anything else."

"I bet, not that I have any choice."

More SUVs pulled up, and a disgruntled Leslie marched over, men in tow. I heard Adam mutter "SEALs".

"We had reports of extremely unexpected weather, Ms Hauptman."

"You could say, SAC. Shots fired, alarm triggered, but all done and dusted now." Her eyes gleamed in the gatelight. "Automatic federal jurisdiction, given yesterday? Tony was wondering."

"I'm afraid so, Detective Montenegro. I'll brief KPD later, but I have to take over now."

"So Mercy just told me, SAC. I still need to report."

"Stay on gate security for ten or fifteen, Tony? We need wolves to change both ways, to report and get out here, and it's already been a very long day, any way you cut it."

"Can do, Mercy. You had the station laughing with the California 12th and Kentucky, on top of your credit being very good. But this will generate a lot of heat."

"I know, Tony, but there are good reasons to stonewall, just. Promise."

"Alright. Shots fired, alarm triggered, investigation by Feds ongoing."

"And all true. SAC, your SEAL backup would be?"

Leslie made introductions as Tony turned away, calling to uniforms, and Adam and I nodded politely.

"Captain, Lieutenants. Please listen only until we're inside."

We let them through, and after closing the gate went to where Jill stood, bulk very present to my senses. The fetches followed. I introduced Jill and pointed with Manannán's Bane.

"Five buried silver slugs, fired at what the shooters thought were Warren, on two legs, and four other wolves, on four. Guns were magically rigged to miss, but the shooters didn't know that. Five grazes. Five counts of attempted murder, but the perpetrators are already dust."

Leslie processed. "Thought were, Ms Hauptman?"

"Un huh. On we go."

I had no idea where any lingering ambient anti-photography might be at, but I summoned fetches-Warren and -Honey, and getting inside was a palpable relief. Leslie didn't relax in the same way.

"Mercy, what the hell happened? I've been fretting about unexpected weather ever since you warned me, but … what? Turning the sun back on in the small hours?"

She was so plaintive I couldn't stop a laugh. "Tell me, Leslie. Our neighbour said the same. But we've just told vamps only daywalkers need apply. And brace yourself. You too, gentlemen."

The fetches responded to my gesture, gathering before me as true wolves and others filled the hall, making SEALs shuffle. George, Ben, Mary Jo, Honey, and Warren were all there, on two legs, and I saw Leslie register two Warrens. I grasped Manannán's Bane, words Charles had taught me long ago coiling in my mind, with necessary adaptations.

"Five creations of Edythe, we are glad of your service, but it is done. And so I must ask you all, what walks like a werewolf and talks like a werewolf and is left by the fae in the werewolf's right place?" My voice sounded the sing-song. "What unchecked would curdle cream, make sick the cows, and make an Alpha moan? What unchecked would hide like poison and rot away pack and home?"

"A fetch! A fetch! A fetch!"

Fetch-Warren spoke the words, those on four legs yipping triple agreement, and with the third repetition all collapsed into the piles of sticks they always had been, whatever Edythe said. I felt magic depart, and bent to gather tufts of hair. Warren and others who'd been duplicated shook themselves, while Leslie and SEALs gawped.

"What the … Damn. Fetches?"

"Yeah." I gave the hair to Adam. "That should be burnt, love. Short version, SAC, is seethe attack, as predicted, starting with silver shots at those on guard, and while Wulfe proved honourable in rigging misses, Adam and I didn't care to risk wolves, so he arranged fetches, courtesy of Edythe. Neither silver or anything else has any effect on them, but the shooters didn't know that. Silver bullets in the sun." Leslie blinked. "Darryl?"

"Den sofas, Mercy."

"Thanks." I led the way, the assorted company allowing Leslie and the SEALs to follow right behind. Piles of folded clothing topped by pairs of shoes were racked along sofas, five with rifles propped beside them, and all with handguns that smelt of silver and a variety of blades. Mini-Grond lay on the floor, wolf-ears and carry-handles gleaming. I stepped aside, and Leslie's eyes tracked right, left, and down.

"Hell. Fourteen? They attacked?"

"Flew right at the house."

"And what the … on earth is that thing?"

"A battering-ram. Or mini-Grond, take your pick." She blinked again. "And you know, Leslie, once in a while, you can get shown the light in the strangest of places, if you look at it right." Her eyes went wide, and I smiled with all the edge I felt. "Which I did, and those vamps didn't. And as it's Beltane, a fire festival, their bad. There's also a call from Wulfe I recorded you, the AED, and the Man should hear. Things are moving on."