Something in his words brought Laurel back to the moment. She looked at Tamani and forced herself to take a few long, slow breaths. “I don’t need to trust Jamison,” she said finally. “I trust you.”

“OK,” Tamani said. He stroked her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. “The best thing we can do is focus on our job in here – as soon as we can, we will get him back; I promise you that.”

Laurel forced herself to remember the power of Excalibur – how invincible David was with it – and how binding a promise from Tamani was.

“Keep piling!” a voice yelled as a soft hand slipped onto Laurel’s shoulder.

“Chelsea!” Laurel threw her arms around her friend. “I wasn’t sure I was ever going to see you again.”

“I ran so freaking fast!” Chelsea exclaimed. “I think I could have won state today. Apparently you put a troll on my heels and I turn into a superstar.”

Laurel squeezed her hand and turned to survey the situation. She had to admit, things looked better than she’d feared. The doors had a stout beam thrown across them and were braced back with an enormous pile of furniture. A group of faeries were lined up replacing the area they’d torn down to let her in, and the barricade was so massive Laurel was surprised they’d been able to let her through it at all.

The windows were a little trickier, but they’d done a pretty good job, using stone-topped tables and securing them to the oak window sashes with thick boards. The unnaturally strong trolls would only be slowed a little by the setup, but a group of faeries on each side of the great barricade clustered around two massive guns aimed at the windows on either side of the entrance.

Guns?

One tall, older faerie who seemed to be supervising yelled a command to the gathered faeries, then turned his sandy-blond head toward her. Sap had congealed in a ragged cut across one side of his face.

“Yeardley!” Laurel said, running to her professor and throwing herself in his arms with no thought to decorum.

“Laurel, thank the Goddess you’re safe. And you’ve brought us another sentry,” he said, his voice heavy with unconcealed relief.

“Yeardley – Tamani. You met him last time I was here.”

“I see Chelsea delivered the message,” Tamani said, eyeing the barricade – and the guns – approvingly.

“We’ve been doing our best. Thank you for sending your friend, Laurel. She told us what happened at the Garden and before the trolls got here we were able to pull in all the students who had been working outside and gather the younglings into an inner chamber.” He hesitated. “A few trolls did get inside, but we think we’ve managed to kill them all. The labs are a mess and . . . and we’ve had several deaths and more injuries. But you’re here now. Were you able to wake Jamison?”

Before Laurel could answer, a mighty thud on the covering of one of the windows reverberated through the atrium.

“Be ready!” Yeardley called.

Another thump sent the stone table rocking askew and a huge hand pushed through, followed by a beard-covered face.

“Now!” Yeardley yelled.

The sound of gunfire and the sharp scent of powder filled the atrium as the troll stumbled back in a spray of blood. Several faeries rushed forward to resecure the table.

The faerie at the trigger burst into tears and another faerie took the gun from her and scooted into her spot.

“Your friend’s idea,” Yeardley said, answering Laurel’s unasked question. “The trolls we killed had these . . . weapons. Chelsea suggested we turn them around on them. Brilliant, really.” He paused. “Hard on our poor students. They’re not killers.”

“Nor would I want them to be,” Tamani said. “I suggest they wear gloves when they handle cold iron like that, though.”

A loud crash sounded at the front door and Tamani swore. “Sounds like they’re using a battering ram,” he growled. “It won’t be long now. Yeardley, we need your help reviving Jamison. He’s safe, but he’s in the Spring quarter.”

“I’m happy to help,” Yeardley said, “but getting from here to Spring will be no easy task.”

“We can make it – we have David. Or we will soon. Do you have a high window facing front, an overhang, something?”

A flicker of a smile crossed Yeardley’s face. “Yes. We have a balcony we’ve been attacking trolls from; I’ll take you right there.”

“I need some rope – bedsheets, even – something to haul David up with.”

Yeardley passed on the request to one of the faeries standing by. “He’ll meet us there,” Yeardley said, already turning. “Come.”

“Do you have bows and arrows?” Tamani asked as Laurel and Chelsea followed them up a winding staircase.

“Why would we have those?” Yeardley asked, a trace of helplessness in his tone. “We’re a school, not an armoury.”

“How are you fighting the trolls, then? They’re immune to Autumn magic.”

“As your lovely friend warned us,” Yeardley said, his jaw tight. “Still, there are many things we can toss at them that don’t require magic at all. Acid. Hot oil.” He paused. “Bookshelves.”

The door at the top of the stairs was already open and led to a large balcony two floors up, a little to the side of the main doors. As they stepped out Laurel saw several faeries lugging an armoire through a door on the other side of the landing and she watched with horror and fascination as they struggled to the railing with the beautifully carved cupboard, paused, and then, when someone shouted “Now!” pushed it off.