She screamed, "What is it, what is it, make it let go!"

"Kid!" I shouted. I ran towards the manhole, jumped, and came down as hard as I could on the hairy arm, right at the wrist, the heels of both hiking boots thumping down onto the grimy flesh.

A bellow erupted from the manhole, and the fingers loosened. The girl twisted her leg, and though it cost her one of her expensive Oxfords and one knee sock, she dragged herself free of its grasp, sobbing. I gathered her up and backpedaled away, turning so that I wasn't leaving my back to the manhole.

The troll shouldn't have been able to squeeze its way out of a hole that small, but it did. First came that grimy arm, followed by a lumpy shoulder, and then its malformed head and hideous face. It looked at me and growled, jerking its way out of the hole with a rubbery ease, until it stood in the middle of the bridge between me and the far side of the river, like some professional wrestler who had fallen victim to a correspondence course for plastic surgeons. In one hand, he held a meat cleaver approximately two feet long, with a bone handle and suspicious-looking stains of dark brown on it.

"Harry Dresden," the troll rumbled. "Wizard deprive Gogoth of his lawful prey." He whipped the cleaver left and right. It made a little whistling sound.

I lifted my chin and set my jaw. It's never smart to let a troll see that you're afraid of him. "What are you talking about, Gogoth? You know as well as I do that mortals aren't all fair game any more. The Unseelie Accords settled that."

The troll's face split into a truly disgusting leer. "Naughty children," he rumbled. "Naughty children still mine." He narrowed his eyes, and they started burning with malicious hunger. "Give! Now!" The troll rolled towards me a few paces, gathering momentum.