She wrapped Spike’s thread around her, giving her the dinosaur’s strength, and her body was suddenly as light as a feather. She swung the swatter at the oncoming wasp, the end whistling through the air, and hit it so hard that its broken body splattered against the wall in a splash of goo. The next one got the same, and the next, while the swarmers sliced and poked at the flanks of still more as they came on.

Behind her, she caught a glimpse of Isaac fighting beside his own creatures, guarding the single gateway into the courtyard. The Siren, a barely visible wisp of a ghost-woman, held the gate, her hypnotic song keeping a good dozen wasps asleep at her feet. The iceling was nearby, a slim figure all in white like a statue made of packed snow. She directed bursts of icy air at the wasps as they tried to climb over the walls on that side, driving them back and shredding their wings with tiny splinters of flying ice.

Isaac himself attacked anything that got through. The salamander’s fire jetted from his palms, producing a hose-like roar, and any wasp caught in it blackened and withered. Isaac’s long, battered gray coat flapped around him as he moved, scorched here and there by stray sparks. Little grass fires burned merrily all around him.

Three wasps came at Alice at once, coordinating their attack to strike from all sides. She mashed the first one into paste, and dodged the second as it swiped at her with its stinger, but the third darted in and sank its teeth into her side. Alice gave a yelp and bashed it on the head with her elbow, Spike’s strength smashing its chitinous hide with a crunch. As it fell away, she ducked the third wasp again and fell back, toward the stone hut.

She released the swarmers and wrapped the Swarm thread around herself, imbuing her skin with the little creatures’ rubbery toughness. Thus reinforced, she met the next wave of wasps without flinching, sweeping left and right with her swatter as they slashed and bit at her. Her clothes were ripped and torn, but the skin underneath was too tough for fangs or stingers, and the smashed bodies of her assailants piled up at her feet.

One of them landed on her back, gripping her with all six legs, fangs desperately trying to close on her neck. Alice spun, hand stretched over her shoulder, but couldn’t get a grip on it.

“Hold still!” Isaac said.

She stopped, and a moment later felt a wash of heat as a precisely targeted burst of flame blew the creature into crispy bits. Alice turned, looking for a fresh target, but there were no more wasps in the air. She could see a few of them retreating the way they had come, over the wall.