Laurel didn’t understand how Jamison could retain such an optimistic calm in the midst of such chaos, but the sentries close enough to hear Jamison’s pronouncement were visibly encouraged by his words and Laurel realised it was deliberate.

“Most of these sentries have never seen a troll, much less killed one,” Jamison whispered to Tamani and David, confirming Laurel’s conclusion. “Tamani, your experience will be invaluable here. If you’ll allow me to look after your charge, I promise I’ll return her to you safely. I’d appreciate you joining David at the gates.”

Tamani nodded, though his jaw was clenched; Laurel knew he didn’t like leaving her, but he wasn’t about to argue with Jamison. David also said nothing – though he did spare a glance back at both Laurel and Chelsea before following Tamani into the trees.

“Stay close,” Jamison said without looking at them, his attention wholly focused on the battle.

With a nod, two of the Am Fear-faire shifted to include Laurel and Chelsea in their circle of protection.

Jamison set off down the interior perimeter of the Gate Garden as though he were on an evening stroll. When they encountered two black-clad trolls tearing chunks out of the stone wall, Jamison bent, stretching his arms forward. Mimicking his pose, two enormous oak trees also leaned forward, their mighty branches creaking and groaning as they wrapped around the trolls and then straightened, flinging the beasts up to such a height that Laurel knew they would never survive the fall.

Before Laurel could dwell too long on what it would feel like to be thrown to her death by an oak tree, they met a small group of sentries fighting desperately against several trolls that had armed themselves with massive tree branches, which they were wielding like giant clubs. Laurel guessed they were about to have their wooden weapons turned against them; but instead, when one of the trolls turned to charge Jamison, it sank into the ground, clawing madly at the dirt that closed over its head.

One by one, the rest of the trolls disappeared as if they’d stepped into quicksand. When the last one turned to flee, Laurel caught sight of the roots Jamison was calling up from the ground to drag the trolls under, burying them alive in Avalon’s fertile soil.

Laurel tried to keep an eye on the guys as Jamison circled the Garden, assisting the sentries. David was easy; it was almost impossible to miss the arcs of blood being cast off his magical weapon with every swing. He looked less like a swordsman and more like a farmer at spring harvest, reaping a never-ending crop of howling monsters. He was truly untouchable. It didn’t matter if he was shifting directions or actually aiming for a troll, every movement of the sword brought down bodies.

Occasionally, Tamani would emerge from the fray and shout an order at someone, but even dressed in her dad’s shirt Laurel had a hard time following him as he blended in with the other sentries, all swinging their weapons, watching for each other, and fighting to keep the trolls at bay.

When they had first entered the Garden, Laurel thought there was no way this simple fighting force could beat the battle-crazed hordes pouring from the gate. But now – with the help of Jamison and Excalibur – the faeries were slowly, slowly, driving the trolls back through the gate.

They were winning.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the battle for the gate was over. The shouts of the sentries were deafening as they closed ranks on a handful of remaining trolls. As the final troll fell, everyone’s eyes went to the gate.

But nothing else came through.

After the rage of battle, the quiet was deafening. Laurel’s ears adjusted gradually, and soon she could hear groans and murmurs of pain from the wounded faeries and the buzz of the sentries on the walls as they spread the news to those who couldn’t see for themselves.

Tamani was favouring one of his shoulders and his eyes were wary as he and David approached Jamison’s circle of Am Fear-faire.

“Did we win?” Chelsea whispered. “Can Jamison close the gate?”

Tamani immediately shook his head.

“It’s not over,” he said softly. “If it was, my sentries would have come through to tell us.” He gritted his teeth. “Klea and Yuki are still on the other side.”

“Nevertheless,” Jamison said, his gesture taking Tamani and David in together, “if we do not take the battle to them, they are sure to bring it back to us eventually.”

“We have a decent force assembled here. I’ll lead them through,” Tamani said.

“Let me,” David said softly, raising the sword.

Tamani hesitated. Laurel could see the war between pride and good sense raging in his eyes. But caution won out; Tamani nodded and began shouting orders to the assembled sentries, who again shouldered their weapons and began to align into formations.

But Laurel’s eyes were on the gate. She could see the California redwoods through the gateway, the ones that ringed the clearing – which looked empty. Where were the sentries? Or the rest of the trolls? She thought she caught a flash of black leather, but convinced herself she was jumping at shadows.

Then something small and yellow came rolling through the gate.

It was immediately swallowed by the earth – Jamison’s doing, Laurel had no doubt – even as several more matching canisters came hissing through the gateway, billowing clouds of sickly green gas that rose and expanded at an unbelievable rate.

Laurel managed to suck in a breath just before the smoke enveloped her. More canisters came streaming through, and Laurel blinked and squinted against the murk. She watched in horror as Jamison staggered, then collapsed onto the emerald grass alongside his Am Fear-faire. Those sentries still standing watched the Winter faerie fall, then turned in panic to flee the encroaching fog. But it was spreading faster than they could run. Klea’s special recipe, no doubt.