"I'm not gutting an investment banker, no matter how creepy he is," I said. "Dragon or no, I don't relish spending the next forty years in prison for a bad feeling."

"Then you are a fool," he said, and hung up the phone.

I hiked out; the cell lost signal as soon as Rolph hung up, funny that.

Rolph's call had spooked me, though. I'd been here a long time. What if someone had broken into the car? What the hell was wrong with me, leaving it out where anyone walking by could see it?

I chafed at the pace to get out of the woods, but it was getting harder to see as the light faded. When I got back to my car, it was full-on dark. I stood and looked back toward the city, toward Bellevue and Seattle, enjoying the lights.

To my relief, no one had broken into the car. Time to take the damned sword home, hide it under my bed or something.

Somewhere to the west, fireworks exploded into the sky. Too early for the Fourth of July, I thought.

Then this wave of anger and fear washed over me like the blow-back from a nuclear explosion. Fireworks over the city? Was that more east?

I got in the car and drove down the access road as fast as I could. No one was left on the mountain. When I hit 90 West, my phone rang.

"It's too late," Rolph cried into the phone, not even waiting for me to say hello.

I could hear explosions in the background, and sirens.

"Rolph, what's going on?"

"The dragon has awakened," he said. "You must act, or face the consequences. No one is safe."

Then the line went dead. A mushroom cloud appeared over what I assumed was Redmond. The explosion sent fire high into the sky.

Damn, was Katie in trouble, too? I flipped the little car across the median at a NO U-TURN sign favored by the cops, and headed east to 18. That was a more direct route to Kent.

I punched Katie's number into the cell and called.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang.

Forty-three.

EIGHTEEN IS NOT THE SAFEST ROAD TO DO A HUNDRED MILES per hour on, but I was pushing it. I tried calling Katie over and over, but she did not answer.

I called Evergreen Hospital, but Melanie wasn't on shift, and they wouldn't give me her number.

I had no one else to call.

Julie wasn't speaking to me, but if the smithy was in trouble . . . I punched her number and a recorded message informed me that all circuits were busy.

I stared into the night, watching the white lines flash under my car, and prayed to whomever was listening that Katie was okay.

No one stopped me when I careened through downtown. I parked in front of a fire hydrant and jumped out, heading for Katie's door.

" 'Ware, smith," Homeless Joe yelled at me as he hobbled around the corner. "Flee, child, before it is too late."

I spun around. Joe was nearly running with a large staff in his hand, limping along with a bad knee or hip, I never knew which. I took a step toward him, curious about his sudden outburst, when two very large bodies came out from the alley and hit Joe. The first man, whom I recognized as Ernie from the other night, clipped Joe on the back of the head, sending the old man sprawling onto the sidewalk.

The second thug, Bert, kicked the staff away and stomped down on Joe's elbow. I heard the pop from the street. Joe let out a guttural cry, and Ernie kicked him in the chest.

"Leave him alone," I shouted, balling my fists at my sides.

Ernie kicked Joe again, and Bert turned to me with a feral grin. "You again," he said. "I'll squeeze your head until it pops."

He took a step toward me, and Joe lunged forward, grabbing him by the ankle and causing him to trip.

I turned to the car, fumbled the keys a moment, and then got the hatch opened. My hammers were in the back, along with the rest of my personal smithing gear.

I found the first hammer, and at the same time, found the roll of pants and swords. My left hand fell on Gram's pommel and the world shifted slightly. The grunting and yelling of the two brutes took on a more rough and grinding quality, like the sound of a landslide.

I spun around as Bert ran up to me, and I stepped aside, swinging the hammer back to clip him in the elbow. I didn't stop, but ran forward and launched myself at Ernie, hammer in my right fist, Gram in my left.

That was when I got a good look at them. With Gram in my hand, the glamour that hid their true appearance fell away, and I saw them for who and what they truly were.

Giants. That's what Rolph had said. These guys were twelve feet tall and as wide as a bus. How they managed to fit in even a Hummer astounded me. I leapt at Ernie, landing to his left side, and brought the hammer around. He dodged at the last moment, and instead of me catching him in the head, he absorbed the blow on his shoulder.

If felt like striking a granite wall.

However, he felt something, because he stumbled away from Joe and grunted with the blow.

Bert rushed me from the rear, sounding like a freight train. I spun, letting him come to me, and feinted with the hammer, only to bring Gram around in a short thrust, and then a quick flip of the wrist.

The blade bypassed his outstretched arm, and flicked against the side of his neck, sending a spray of blood into the cooling night.

He grabbed his throat and fell to his knees, his eyes as big as lamps.

Ernie had not been idle, however. The whistling sound of a large object being swung was the only thing that saved my life. I jumped backward as a full-on street post came crashing into the spot I'd just vacated.

Unfortunately, I did not avoid the blow altogether. It clipped my right arm, and the hammer fell to the ground. That arm went numb.

I rolled across the ground and back to my feet in time to parry a clumsy swing of the pole. Ernie did not slow, just swung that pole at me, over and over, pushing me back toward the alley.

Bert lurched up, his hands and jacket covered in blood, but he was not down. He punched me in the side, knocking me to my knees. He would have brained me, but Ernie swung the light pole again, only this time he ripped down the power lines overhead and electricity arced down the pole, which hit Bert as I ducked. Both giants fell back, stunned.

I struggled to my feet, pain shooting up my right arm from the elbow, and staggered over to Joe, who sat against the front of Elmer's Gun Emporium. Bert began to rise from where he'd fallen. Ernie struggled to his knees, reaching for the post that he'd flung away.

I knelt down, looking at Joe. "Can you stand?" I asked. I held the sword to my left, glancing back over my shoulder to the two giants.

"I will survive, child," Joe said.

I turned to look into his weathered face. His beard was encrusted with filth, and his eye did not focus. He grinned and I could see several broken teeth. "Sorry, Joe," I said. Bert was on his feet, but staggered. He'd taken the brunt of the electricity, and he wasn't looking too good.

This was ugly. They were much slower, but had enormous strength. I would lose in a game of attrition.

" 'Ware the Jotuns," he said, brushing the hair from my eyes.

Energy flowed from his touch, drawing a line of fire along my scalp.

I looked up, shocked by an intense moment of clarity and peace. A blackness had been burned from my mind.

In the reflection of the storefront, I saw Ernie swinging the lamp, and I spun around, raising the sword with both hands.

My right arm no longer hurt.

I deflected the energy of the blow, redirecting it upward. Unfortunately, it crashed into Elmer's window. Alarms shrieked into the night.

"See if you can get away," I said, rising and spinning on my left heel. "I'll hold them as long as I can."

"You are a brave one," Joe said in his slurred, drunken voice. He placed a hand on my left calf and said, "Wodiz."

The night glowed like the day as power and strength surged into me. My calf throbbed with pain and a euphoria flooded through me. I could feel each rune like a fiery brand. My numb arm felt as right as rain. Every inch of me vibrated with power-seeking release.

I glanced down at Joe and he glowed as well, the color of bruises.

Ernie lunged in at me with the pole, like a lance. I batted it aside with Gram and lurched forward, smashing the blade along the post, only stopping as I cut through flesh and bone. Several fingers on Ernie's right hand fell to the ground, wiggling like maggots.

He dropped the pole, bellowing in pain, and held his hand to his chest. I took that moment to lunge forward and pick up my hammer.

When Bert rushed me, I cried out, screaming something in a language I didn't recognize. Ernie spun around, shock on his face, and Bert stumbled. I swung the hammer, catching Bert on the side, just above the floating rib, and he grunted from the impact.

I brought Gram around at the same time and felt it bite into his left arm, the blade slicing deep before sliding free.

Ernie turned and ran, leaving his fingers to flop around on the sidewalk. Bert fell to the ground, bleeding from several wounds, his breath rushing in and out like a bellows.

"Finish him," Joe said, sitting up. Blood ran down his face, and he held his left arm at an odd angle. "Send him forth to Hel."

I did not hesitate, but leapt forward, slipping Gram into Bert's chest, just over the left breast. He cried out as the first six inches of the blade sank into him, and he fell back, nearly wrenching Gram from my hand.

I spun, looking for Ernie, but he had already fled around the corner of the building.

Only then did I walk over and step on the flailing fingers. They popped like overstuffed sausages, but they stopped moving.

I wiped Gram on Bert's shirt and watched as his movements slowed, and then stopped.

"Police soon," I said in Joe's direction. I walked to the hatchback, dropped the hammer inside, and carefully wrapped Gram inside the jeans once again. Then I walked back and helped Joe up, helped him into the narrow backseat of my car, where he collapsed, perhaps losing consciousness.

I desperately needed to find Katie. Power surged through me as I pushed Katie's door open and bounded up the stairs. At the top of the stairs I didn't stop, but smashed through her door.

"Katie," I called out, running through her place.

She wasn't there.

Okay. No Katie. She was likely out at Jimmy's or something. I ran back to my car, taking the stairs three at a time. Soon I was speeding up 167 toward Renton. "Next stop, the smithy," I called back to Joe, who may or may not have heard me.

About Exit 5, on northbound 405, the adrenaline crash arrived, and I started shaking.

Forty-four.

I'D JUST KILLED A MAN. WELL, A GIANT, BUT THE EMOTION WAS the same. My hands rattled on the steering wheel and I found I was breathing in short gasps.

I pulled over to the breakdown lane and put on my flashers. "Hyper . . . ventilating," I said aloud, looking over to Joe. He had not moved since I'd put him in my car. How badly was he hurt?

"Here," he grunted, handing me an empty fast-food bag. I held it over my mouth and breathed, feeling the panic slow. Luckily I had the window open, because the stench of old french fries and Joe's special odor combined with the thought of those fingers, and Bert kicking on the sidewalk as I pierced his heart.

I leaned out my window and vomited.

This was not a good habit to get into. I rested my head against the window frame and tried to keep my breathing even and slow. "I killed him," I said.

"Aye."

I sucked in exhaust and grit as the southbound traffic whizzed by on the other side of the divider, but I couldn't move. It was like something popped in my head . . . this shit was really happening. The sword, and giants. Holy Mother of God. Was I losing my mind?

"I need something to drink," I said, turning off the flashers and checking the traffic. "Let's stop at this tavern over by the smithy," I said. "I want to check in on my friend."

"I could use a drink," Joe said.

I pulled into traffic and adjusted my mirror. Joe stared at me with his one good eye. Pain etched his face, and he cradled his arm against his chest.

Traffic was relatively light for the Eastside, but I still chafed at the pace. Weaving in and out of the slower moving vehicles bought me some time, but I had to be careful. With all the hot-rodders out there, adding nitrous and such to cars exactly like mine, I was more prone to police scrutiny. Tonight, I didn't need the delay.

I cut through Bellevue and over to Redmond, noticing that the lights were out and smoke hung heavy in the sky.

God, I hoped that wasn't coming from the smithy.

Joe raised his head and sniffed. "Fire," he said, and passed out.

"Hang on, Joe. We'll skip the drink and head to the hospital. Just don't die."

I barreled down Bel Red and over toward Kirkland. If I took Seventy-second, I could pass the smithy on my way to Evergreen Hospital.

The flutter in my gut became a full-on ache. Flames like I'd never seen before roared upward into the night sky.

I turned past the car wash and the full brunt of the tragedy came into view. The smithy was a total loss. Several fire trucks and police cruisers had the area cordoned off. Traffic had come to a standstill due to the crowd milling around the Crankshaft Tavern across the street. I nosed the hatchback through the crowd and cut into the tavern lot. I parked near the back, glanced back at Joe to see if he was breathing, and got out, letting the sound of chaos wash over me.