I recruited the trolls, who were large and shaggy, and appeared to relish the idea of a good fight.

I recruited my mom’s neighbor Gus the ogre, who was equally large and imposing and equally ready to give battle. “Anything for you and your mother, Daisy,” he said in a voice like rocks grating, squaring shoulders the size of boulders and baring teeth like, well, smaller boulders in a terrifying grimace. “And this is my home, too!”

My mother was less sanguine. “I don’t like this, honey,” she said to me in the kitchen of her double-wide. Her blue eyes were troubled. “It scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

“Me, too,” I admitted.

She searched my face. “Are you sure there’s no way to stop this?”

You have but to ask . . .

I shuddered. “I’m open to suggestions. Got any?”

“No,” Mom said in a rueful tone. “It’s just . . . this shouldn’t be your fight, Daisy.”

“It shouldn’t be any of our fights.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “But I’m Hel’s liaison. I accepted that responsibility.”

“You didn’t have any idea it would lead to this,” she said quietly.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think Hel did, either. I don’t know if anyone did. Maybe the Norns.”

“As in the Norn who told you the fate of the world might hinge on your decisions?” Mom asked. “The Norn who told you to trust your heart?”

El Corazón, my heart.

“Yep.”

“And what does your heart tell you?” she asked.

I sighed. “It tells me I can’t back out of this responsibility. Especially not now, now that I’ve recruited practically the entire eldritch community. Other than that, nothing.”

Mom kissed my forehead. “Keep listening.”

      Fifty

The Fairfax clan were the last significant members of the eldritch community to commit to the battle.

Cody stopped by the police station on his day off to tell me. “We’re in,” he said briefly. “Elders and adult singles only. No teenagers, no parents with small children.”

I nodded. “That’s more than fair. Does, um, that mean you’re including yourself among the fighters?”

“Yeah.” He raked a restless hand through his bronze hair. “You know, I was always afraid I’d have to make this choice someday. But one of the reasons I became a police officer was to be in a position to protect my clan.” He fished his badge out of his coat pocket. “Right now, I can’t do both. I have to choose one or the other. And I choose my clan.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re turning in your badge?”

Cody shrugged. “Better than waiting to get fired for disobeying orders, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” I said. “I was going with the whole ‘it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission’ thing.”

Cody gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, if we lose this war, I won’t have a home to return to, so the job doesn’t really matter, does it?” He shuddered. “God, it’s scary, Daise! Where would we go? You heard the wolves at the mixer. They’ve barely got room to breathe. The world’s getting too small for us.”

“I know,” I whispered. “Believe me, you’re not alone. It’s all that I’ve been hearing out there.”

Chief Bryant opened the door of his office and poked his head out. “Oh, good. Fairfax, a word? You, too, Daisy.”

Exchanging uncertain glances, Cody and I entered his office.

“Have a seat.” The chief gestured to a pair of empty chairs across from his desk, settling his bulk into his own chair. He laced his hands across his ample belly, regarding us with his heavy-lidded gaze. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that mermaid we rescued last summer. You remember the one?”

As if anyone could forget. “Yes, sir,” I said.

The chief cleared his throat. “Recent events have made it easy to, ah, lose sight of the fact that the nonhuman members of the community deserve the protection of our fine department, too.” He raised one thick finger. “Now, my hands are tied. The law is the law, and I’m sworn to enforce it.” Swiveling in his chair, he glanced at the calendar on the wall behind him. March 20, the first day of spring, was circled in red marker. It was three days away. “But I’m thinking it’s for the best if the two of you are put on administrative leave for the rest of the week.”

“So you’re saying . . . ?” I let the question dangle.

Chief Bryant leaned back, his desk chair creaking. “I’m saying I’m on your side, Daisy,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing I can do to help you, but I’ll try to stay out of your way as long as I can. And if Pemkowet survives this war, you’ll have jobs to come back to.”

It mattered more than I would have expected. A ragged half sob of gratitude escaped me. “Thank you, sir!”

Rising from his chair, Cody extended a hand across the chief’s desk. “I won’t forget this.”

Chief Bryant clasped his hand. “See that you don’t, son.”

Three days.

Three days.

Crap, they went so fast.

The news of the impending battle had spread throughout Pemkowet, and the mood in town was strained and sober. The initial exhilaration that Persephone’s offer had evoked had given way to a horrified seller’s remorse at the realization of the repercussions. Everywhere I went, people asked me what I thought was going to happen, and all I could do was say I didn’t know.