Neely cried out with disgust as he wrenched the thing's teeth out of his torn shoulder. He gripped it by its long hair and swung it at the Puck's face.

Where it turned into a rain of delicate flowers.

The guard vanished. There was a hollow, disembodied chuckle. "There's nary a need for the Nialls no more," the Puck's voice intoned gleefully.

Neely stood panting, clutching his shoulder. "Damn right there's not."

He took off through the unguarded gates.