Fatal Circle

Seven wasn’t convinced. She asked me directly, “What did you do?”

She’d already made it clear she wanted me to honor Menessos more than Joh

“What do you mean?” I hoped that, despite my embarrassment-warmed cheeks, I conveyed i

“We need to update Persephone on our strategizing,” Menessos redirected.

“Our plan is simple: kill the fire fairy and the earth fairy.” Mark pointed to the table, indicating a spot on a map spread out on it. “This is Headlands Dunes. We are relatively certain the fairies will come in from Lake Erie, as it is less offensive to their allergies than the land. When they appear, Menessos must call them to him, as if to guard a circle. They will be drawn to him and, from the lighthouse here, the waerewolf sniper—safely away from the magic—uses iron-tipped bullets to kill the earth fairy. Menessos kills the other himself.”

“And what do I do?” I was supposed to be right there with Menessos.

Mark said, “Stay out of the way.”

“Hold on,” I said to Menessos. “They are bound to you and it hurt you when I killed Cerebrosus, it hurt you when Aquula died. What will happen to you if the remaining two are killed at once?”

“It will hurt,” he said plainly.

I made an irritated face at him that Seven copied. “If the sniper takes out the earth fairy, will you be able to take the fire fairy? I think you’d better plan on me”— even as the words left my mouth, I was stu

The weight of the stares directed at me made my heart race.

“You’re right,” Menessos conceded.

“How will you combat the effect of these two deaths?” Seven asked him.

“Mountain volunteered to fight. His bulk will be hard to hide, so let’s plan to have him nearby, ready when I need to feed.”

Everyone nodded. I added, “Okay, but this whole battle is all about them stopping you from calling them ever again. I may be supposedly delivering you to them, but they will anticipate you might use your summoning power. They will be ready for that.”

“Yes, I expect they will be.”

The calm in his voice bothered me. “You’re betting your life on the ability of a sniper to take out a fairy before they can strike.”

“Kirk’s the shooter,” Joh

“The Mr. Clean wa

“No, the Asian guy.”

“The wiry overactor?”

Joh

“Do you fully trust him not to shoot Menessos?”

Joh

“How many waeres do you have?”

“Twenty.”

I was able to stop myself before I blurted, “That’s all?” and changed it to an even, “Okay.” Twenty waeres were about as formidable as fifty or so men, I reminded myself. I addressed Menessos next. “You’re the master of the fairies. There’s some compulsion in that bonding, right? Will you be able to strike them?”

“Servants bear something of a benevolent compulsion toward their masters—”

I snickered, but he continued on, unaffected.

“—more so than masters feel toward them. Consequently, it is much easier for a master to strike a servant.”

Good to know. I guess. “How many Beholders will you bring, Menessos?”

“Forty-five. Fifteen will remain here as guardians.”

So we had less than seventy people to bring to this war. Kind of downgrades it to a battle, huh? With the war coming after, if we lose. Seventy people didn’t sound like much, but it was better than two. Technically Menessos and I were the only ones supposed to show up. “Any idea how many fairies will come?”

“I am guessing forty or fifty,” Menessos said, “but the fey royals may want to show off. Especially if they are anticipating that we are bowing to their demands. They will want many of their underlings to see it.”

He had the most experience with the fey, so no one argued with his assumption. I certainly wouldn’t. “I can’t believe we might pin the hopes of this whole thing on one guy with a rifle. Is there a backup plan?”

“That’s where the waerewolves and Beholders come in.” Mark squared his shoulders. “The light infantry will be hidden in the switchgrass, and, hopefully, avoiding the cocklebur. They will wait for the signal and then storm the beach.”

Light infantry? I waited. “And?”

“And fight.”

“I’m no grand strategist, but isn’t that sparse on the pla

The men reacted with amusement, as if the silly waitress had just asked if they’d mind having another round of beer and wings for free.

“Have you ever seen waerewolves in an all-out bar brawl?” Joh

“No.”

“We don’t need formations and we don’t need weapons, we use what’s at hand.”

“There won’t be barstools and beer bottles on the beach. And even it there were, you need iron not broken glass. You’re fighting fairies who can change their size and fly. And, they’re magic. You’re bringing waerewolves.”

That reminder sobered him.

Goliath had taken up pacing on the far side of the room. He was listening, but not participating. He would be dead while all this happened. His master was heading into danger and, for all his expertise as an assassin, he’d be missing it.

“I can get you iron weapons,” Mark said.

Seven asked thoughtfully, “What about buckshot?”

Mark shook his head. “A shotgun has a range of fifty yards or less. For the waerewolves it would be risky. That’s close, energywise.”

“But buckshot is smaller pieces,” she countered, “meant to spread out to hit small flying targets like birds. If we make them iron pieces it’ll stop the fey and at least interfere with spell casting.”

“Good idea,” I said.

Mark addressed Joh

“Yes. Most have experience hunting in the woods in human form. Deer and pheasant.”

“Perfect. I will get some men to round up shotguns and make some iron buckshot.” Mark left.

I stand with Menessos as if to deliver him to them, he calls them to him for a magic circle. The sniper kills one and Menessos kills the other. I’m to help him if, weakened by the death of the other, he ca