Halfway across, the fairy dropped into my line of sight, flipping head over heels to kick at my face. I ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding his boot; I felt the ankle brush over my earlobe. Fairies wear boots, I thought, even as he grabbed my foot from behind and tripped me.

Rolling with the momentum, I came up with my shoulder against the tip of one of Johnny's guitars in its stand. It was the wicked-cool axe-shaped one.

Then the fairy was on me. "Give me that cloth!" he demanded. We grappled for it. He was small but superhumanly strong, agile and fast. He yanked on the cloth but I held tight. With my other hand, I punched him in the chest, knocking him back. I used the instant to shove the cloth down into the bodice firmly between my breasts.

He was on me again in a flash. I crossed my arms to block him. Amid a flurry of pinching and grabbing strokes of his hands, I rolled to my stomach and pulled my knees under me. He kicked at my stomach, but wasn't big enough to make it count. He moved to kick at my head but was too late. Having gotten one foot flat on the stage, I pushed up, took a boot to the shoulder, and swung my fist.

He retreated to avoid the strike, then lunged at me. I threw another punch, added a kick. He lunged again, and we repeated our measures. With each lunge he grew a little bigger.

His boot heel hit the corner of my mouth. I tasted blood, but snatched him by the ankle. With a savage jerk, I slammed his back against the stage, wings fanned flat under him. "Stay down!" I commanded, standing over him.

He lay still for a heartbeat or two, then his mouth moved once and an ornate dagger appeared in his grip.

"Don't," I said, kicking at the weapon.

He shrank again, changing the distance needed for my kick to succeed. As my follow-through brought my leg past him, he rolled clear and leapt to the air. The blade glinted in the light. He came after me.

Slicing X shapes in the air, the fairy had me backpedaling across the stage. Hands reaching back, searching for something, I thought if I came up against the amplifiers I'd duck and roll. Instead of amps, my hand found the neck of the axe-like guitar in its stand. My fingers wrapped around it.

The fairy's X-move ended to my left; I ducked to the right, rushing forward and dragging the guitar with me. I righted myself and ran. Again, everything slowed.

I heard the flap of his wings behind me. I heard my breath in my ears.

I ran for the drum riser. In my mind's eye, I could almost see myself one step ahead, see what I was planning an instant before I did it. My foot lifted, one big, slow step directing my motion upward. The fairy gained on me. The next step was slow as well, but it started me across the riser. Two steps and I pulled up short, twisting around, while the guitar in my hand came up.

Even as I guided the guitar into position, like a baseball bat over my head, I started toward the fairy. His legs moved as if he were skidding on air trying to back up. I launched myself off the riser, swinging the guitar overhead, aiming for the dagger. Like a giant fly-swat, it crashed down, squashing the fairy like a bug center-stage.

Johnny's guitar was broken and a yellowish green fluid was all that remained of Cerebrosus. The brocade surcoat, breeches, all of it was gone, replaced by gooey fluid leaking from under the guitar. I released the instrument and hurried to where Xerxadrea lay on her side.

"Eldrenne? Xerxadrea, are you okay?"

"Persephone? Is that you, dear?"

"Yes, Xerxadrea. You took a fall—anything broken?"

Her raven cawed and jumped up on her arm. "I feel fine. Help me sit up."

"I think you should wait. Let us—"

"Help me up!" Her hand reached out and I took it, helped her sit up. She sucked in a breath.

My heart leapt, thinking her quick breath was due to some pain.

"Did the fairy get away with my hanky?" she asked.

"No. I have it." I started to retrieve it from my bodice but I saw Johnny past the end of the stage. Beverley was beside him, holding Aquula's hand. Menessos and Goliath were just entering, each restraining one of the other two fairies. To the side, I detected people drifting close, chattering like people do after something has stunned them. A glance let me know Hunter and Lydia were hurrying over.

Then the fairies realized what had happened to their comrade and they went into fits of rage and grief. The red one burst into flames and tore herself away from Menessos and turned on Goliath, who threw the other male into the air. "This night, we have been summoned into a circle on Covenstead grounds," the red fairy shouted as the flames around her hardened and became her wings. "And a witch has murdered one of us! The Concordat has been broken and the consequences shall be wrought upon you!" She and the other darted behind the stage backdrop and the south doors were thrown back on their hinges and bounced closed.

A mist around my feet made me glance down, and slowly Xerxadrea rose to standing. The mist disappeared up under her dress as it had when she entered for the Eximium. "Where's my staff?"

"Lydia's bringing it," I said.

Johnny stepped up onstage. "You two all right?" he asked.

"Yes," Xerxadrea answered.

"Yeah," I said. With a sheepish attempt at a smile I added, "Sorry about your guitar."

"Hell, I'll make another one," he said. Before taking me into his arms, he gestured at the news crew on the catwalk opposite the stage. "I just hope they got that footage. Pete Townshend's got nothing on you."

News crew? Oh, crap—

Then I heard the splattering sounds of palms against palms, growing into the unmistakable rain of heartfelt applause. They—at least the mundanes in the crowded Hall, including the media—had taken it all for one hell of a great Hallowe'en treat complete with spectacular special effects.

They'd gotten the expected show. And I had been the star.

We witches assembled in Hunter's office, with Xerxadrea being guided to the big chair behind the desk. Johnny remained with Beverley and Aquula, while the vampires were asked to quietly secure the stage area and let no one near.

"What the hell happened out there?" Hunter demanded.

"They kidnapped Beverley and brought her here. They tried to kill her."

"Who's Beverley?" Hunter asked.

I sank into the chair that, a few days before, I'd sat in when I'd come to decline the nomination. I pulled the mask off and held it in my lap as I rolled the fabric up and squeezed my fingers into the silk. The stress of everything that had happened and could have happened felt like lead weights holding me down. "The daughter of a friend of mine."

Lydia put her hand on my shoulder. "Her friend was murdered a few weeks ago and Persephone has become the child's guardian."

Hunter was taken aback. "And on top of that you entered the Eximium?"

Shaking my head I said, "No. On top of that Lydia nominated me."

"Did the fairies have something to do with her mother's death?" Hunter asked.

"No, they weren't involved."

"Then why would they try to kill her?"

"Were they trying to sacrifice her?" Xerxadrea asked before I could answer. "On Covenstead grounds?"

"It wasn't ritualistic, so 'sacrifice' might be the wrong word, but they drew a dagger and…" I let it trail off, unsure whether telling them about Menessos was necessary.

Xerxadrea's fingers tapped on her staff. "That makes no sense. To sacrifice a virgin child on coven grounds is an act of war."

"And instead, one of them was killed inside the Covenstead." Hunter crossed her arms and gave me a petulant look. "My Covenstead."

"I haven't announced that yet," Xerxadrea said pointedly. "If you'd like to decline—"

"No!" Hunter's arms dropped to her sides. "I'm not giving it up."