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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.

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