With that, he turned on his heel and walked inside, leaving reporters yelling questions in his wake.

Ethan’s phone rang before he’d even made it back to his office. He answered it, eyebrows lifting. “Madam Mayor.” A pause. “Yes. We will.”

The call lasted less than a minute, and then the phone was put away again. But the smile on his face looked pretty damn good.

“The mayor has formally requested we step in and handle the dragon in the manner we feel most appropriate. The CPD and National Guard await our instructions.”

Now we could begin. And a good thing, because we had a lot of work to do.

• • •

We assembled the Ombuddies in the Ops Room again, and the energy was much different from the last time. Lindsey picked “Bad Blood” as our preparation music, and the vibe made us all feel pretty vindicated.

Scott Grey and Jonah showed up, as did Gabriel and Morgan. I’d wondered if Claudia would put in an appearance, but she wasn’t the helping type. Besides, we didn’t yet know what Sorcha’s death had done to her newly replenished power; she might not have been interested in destroying the dragon.

“And so,” Ethan said as everyone gathered coffee and filled seats at the conference table,“we find ourselves here again.”

“And with authority,” Scott said, raising his mug to Ethan. “Kudos.”

Ethan nodded. “This is a rare and important moment, and we need to capitalize upon it. That’s why we’re here—to create a plan for dealing with Sorcha Reed’s creation once and for all.”

“Hear, hear,” Gabe said, and lifted his mug. I guess even shifters with flasks needed coffee sometimes.

“In that case,” Ethan said, “I believe our Ombuddies have an update. And one honorary Ombuddy,” he said as Mallory, Jeff, and Catcher stepped to the front of the room.

“Clicker?” Jeff said, and Luc tossed the screen remote to him. Jeff caught it handily, turned on the large view screen.

“So, Mallory and Catcher figured a sorcerer who’s taken the time to explain how to manifest an Egregore is also going to explain what to do when things go bad.”

“When the Egregore acts out,” Gabe said.

“Exactly. Since we’re short on time, we’ll skip the programming details. Suffice it to say, while we snoozed, the program worked through the many, many combinations of arrangements that would explain how to, basically, dismantle the Egregore.”

“Like a Lego pattern in reverse,” Mallory said.

“Kind of like that,” Jeff said with a smile. “At Northerly Island, we learned magic pretty much bounces off the dragon’s scales, and they’re very hard to permeate. At least part of that is because of its nature, the fact that it’s a creature born of magic. Like you have immortality and shifters have strength, the Egregore has a certain resiliency.”

“So we’re out of luck?” Morgan asked.

“Not entirely,” Jeff said, and held up the remote. “Because of this.”

A blocky white sword filled the screen.

“A Lego sword?” Scott Grey asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Not Lego,” Jeff said with a smile, and zoomed in. “Just reordered.”

It wasn’t a sword made of blocks; it was a sword made of paper. Each “block” was actually a page of the Danzig foldouts, carefully organized into this new shape.

“Computer hit on this arrangement after about seven long hours,” Jeff said. “And when you look at the illustration unlocked by this magic and the arrangement, you get this.” He held up the remote again.

This time, the pixelated sword was replaced by a line drawing of a sleek, two-handed broadsword with a gleaming jewel in the middle of its hand guard. Below the sword lay the split body of the manifested Egregore.

“It explains how to enhance a sword to increase its potency against the Egregore,” Jeff said, beaming with pleasure. “Long story short, each hit will do more damage than it ordinarily would.”

“As we fight with swords,” Ethan said, “a very handy solution.”

“Handy,” Catcher agreed, “but not infallible. Presuming the magic works the way Portnoy has laid it out, you’d still be facing a magic monster with increased, as Jeff said, resiliency. It won’t be easy to bring down even with a magic sword.”

“I’ll wield the blade,” Ethan said.

I gave him my most Masterly look. “You most certainly will not. I’m Sentinel of this House. I’ll wield it.”

There was nothing especially pleasant in Ethan’s eyes. “I don’t doubt your prowess. I do have concerns about sending my wife into a battle with the only sword.”

“So I’ll enchant more than one.”

We looked back at Catcher, whose lips were curved with amusement.

“You could do that?” Ethan asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’ve got Portnoy’s instructions and plenty of steel.”

I looked back at Ethan, brows lifted.

For a moment, he breathed silently, looking not unlike a dragon himself with his fierce and angry eyes. But acceptance eventually filtered through.

“You’ll be careful. And I’ll go with you.”

It was my turn to frown, to deal, to accept, but we’d sworn we would be partners to each other. Of course, that didn’t mean we couldn’t use another partner.

“How about four swords?” I asked Catcher.

“Four?” Ethan asked.

“One for me, one for you”—I looked at Jonah—“and two for him, because he’s very good with dual blades.”

Jonah smiled. “I’m game, subject to Scott’s approval.”

Scott nodded. “Permission granted.”

“Then it sounds like we’ve decided on a sword battle with a dragon,” my grandfather said. “We need to minimize the damage to the city while it’s under way, preferably to zero. No injuries, minimal collateral damage.”

Luc nodded. “We need a space big enough to contain a dragon, but contained.”

“I don’t think there’s a dragon arena in Illinois,” Jeff said with a grin.

“Actually, I’ve got an idea,” Jonah said, then looked at Scott, smiled. “A place that’s already big enough to contain Bears.”

My grandfather snorted. “You’re either thinking the Lincoln Park Zoo or Soldier Field.”

“Soldier Field,” Jonah confirmed. “Plenty of space on the inside—more than a hundred yards of it from end to end. But it’s contained, at least in two dimensions.”

“And the parking lot and lake are buffers,” my grandfather said. “So that would help contain damage.”

“I doubt the Chicago Park District would be stoked about letting us use Soldier Field for a dragon battle,” Mallory said.

“It won’t be a problem.”

We all looked at Scott.

“We have certain contacts in the sports community,” he said. “We’ll make it work, ensure the lights are on.”

“And how do we lure the dragon into our little trap?” I asked.

“Simple,” Mallory said with a smile. “We bring bait.”

“You will not be bait,” Catcher said.

“Oh, hell no,” she agreed. “I’ve already seen one sorceress get chewed up this week.” She waved it off. “The dragon doesn’t want me anyway, not really. Remember—it’s the manifestation of the Egregore, of a very angry Chicago. With a little creative spell casting, we can create an offer it won’t be able to refuse.”

I glanced at Mallory. “When we make that offer, and it shows up, and we kill it, what happens to the Egregore, to the magic? Would we release that back into the world again, and just set ourselves up for more drama? For another round of this in the future?”

“There’s a risk,” Catcher said with a nod. “The magic doesn’t dissipate cleanly, just spreads out over downtown again, and we have more delusions, more violence.”

“That would be an unacceptable risk,” my grandfather said.