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could do something more that my voice alone could not. I had hands of power, but none I was willing to use on my grandmother.
    All the small objects in the room rushed toward the three men around my bed. Rushed toward me. But I knew that the small objects were a ruse. Throw the small then hit them with the big.
    I had time to take a breath, to warn them. Then Doyle was on top of me guarding me with his body. The world was suddenly black, not from passing out, but from the fall of his midnight hair across my face.
    I heard the doctor scream again. I heard unknown voices shouting from the direction of the door. Then Rhys yelled, “Sholto, no!”

CHAPTER THREE
    I PUSHED AT DOYLE’S HAIR, TRIED TO CLEAR MY VISION, AS THE screams and shouts were joined by a sound like wind rushing toward us, and the breaking of glass. I heard Gran scream as I pushed desperately at Doyle. I had to see what was happening.
    “Doyle, please, what’s happening?” I pushed at him, but it was like pushing at a wall. There was no moving him, unless he allowed it. I spent my life being not as strong, not as much, as those around me, but in that moment, it was brought home to me that I could be their queen, but I would never be their equal.
    I finally got enough of his hair out of my face to see the ceiling. I turned my head and found Galen by the door shielding the doctor with his body. There were shards of glass and wooden debris around him. The two uniformed cops by the door were inside with their guns drawn. But it was the looks on their faces that gave me some clue to what might be happening on the other side of the room.
    Horror, a soft, amazed horror, was on both their faces. They raised their guns, and aimed, as if whatever they were aiming at was moving…a lot, and it was bigger than anything in the room that I was aware of, because they were aiming above even the tallest of the men.
    The sound of gunshots exploded in the small room. I was deafened with it for a moment, then stunned by what they were firing at. Huge tentacles reached for them. Smaller shapes flew at them, black and vaguely batlike, if bats could be as large as a small person, and have tentacles in the center of their bodies that reached and writhed.
    Something screamed outside the window, as the tentacles, some wide as a man’s waist, kept coming in the face of the shots. The bullets were lead, and that hurts those of faerie, but I’d seen the tentacles before, and short of cutting them off, you couldn’t stop them.
    They slammed the two officers against the wall hard enough to shake the room. I saw smaller tentacles with guns held in them. I was okay with the disarming, because how do you explain to human police that the tentacled nightmare is on our side? Humans still have a tendency to think that good is always pretty and that evil is always ugly. I’ve found that it’s so often the other way around.
    The nightflyers swooped in like dark flying manta rays. They had feet for perching, but their main limbs were the tentacles in the center of their bodies. They used them now to take the guns from the larger tentacles. I watched the one nearest us cling to the wall and use a smaller tentacle to put the safety on the gun. The nightflyers had great dexterity with their tentacles, which the larger beast did not.
    I felt Doyle move as he lay on top of me. He turned his head, and said, “Rhys, have you removed the spell?”
    “Yes.”
    Doyle turned back to look at the police and the doctor, still crouched under Galen’s protective charge. He moved slowly off of me. I could feel how tense his muscles were, ready to react if there was more danger. He finally stood beside the bed, his shoulders and the muscles in his arms still tense enough that I could see it.
    Rhys and Sholto held Gran between them. They were having to work at it though. Brownies could harvest a field single-handed in one night, or thrash a barn full of wheat. It wasn’t all their ability for telekinesis;