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“You can tell your friend behind that bush that his dart is far too small to pierce my fur.” It wasn’t, but Evanescent had to take a chance somewhere, didn’t she? “And your colleague on the tree limb above me will find my ear a far smaller target than she thinks.”

“We know where you are, too, you know,” a counter tenor called down to her.

“Of course,” Evanescent said. “I’m right out here where you can see me. Why don’t you step out, too?”

“There really isn’t much point in cover, when she can tell our whereabouts by our thoughts,” a bell-like voice admitted. “No, and it will give us better aim,” the first elf pointed out. “Enough, then! Out one and all!”

They were there so suddenly that even Evanescent missed seeing them step out from behind trunks and stones, leaves and bushes. A dozen fairies hovered six feet over her head, just beneath the lowest branches, each with a slender bow bent and an arrow nocked. Elves clustered below her on the forest floor or sat on the limbs above, each with a crossbow and spear leveled at her.

“That’s better, now,” Evanescent purred. “We can talk as spirits should.”

“Spirit!” said an elf with a laugh. “You’re no more a spirit than we are!”

“No less either, though,” Evanescent pointed out, “and the New Folk don’t know we’re only flesh and blood, like them.”

“New Folk yourself!” cried a fairy. “We saw you climb down that golden ramp!”

“I only meant to hide from the ship itself,” Evanescent protested, “and from its passengers, of course.”

“Of course?” asked an elf. “They don’t know about you, then?”

“I try to be certain they don’t,” the alien answered.

“But they’re yours clear as spring water,” a fairy retorted. “Don’t try to say they’re not.”

“Well, I don’t own them.”

“And don’t run them, either, I suppose,” an elf said with sarcasm.

“No, that I don’t,” Evanescent said primly. “I only watch their antics and do the best I can to let them keep on.”

“ ‘The best you can?’ ” Another elf scowled. “You mean you help them?”

“Once I understand what they’re trying to do, yes,” Evanescent answered. “After all, they only have the good of their own silly kind of people at heart.”

“But not the good of ours,” a fairy snapped.

“That’s so.” Evanescent looked up at her. “Though there are some matters that benefit all people, Old and New alike.”

“Such as?” an elf challenged.

“Peace,” Evanescent answered.

Peace there was, or silence at least, while elves and fairies alike digested the fact that this strange creature wanted peace, too. Then an elf said, “Your pet male claims to be trying to bring peace to all the clans.”

“He’s his own man,” Evanescent protested, “or at least not mine. Bringing peace is his idea, but I think it will be very amusing to watch him try.”

“Then your pleasure is apt to be short-lived,” an elf said darkly. “These New Folk tend to take a dim view of peacemakers.”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m doing what I can to keep him alive,” Evanescent said, “and why I’m going to ask you to do the same.”

“Us protect him?” a fairy demanded. “Why should we?”

“Because peace would be good for us as well as the New Folk,” an elf answered. “One of our troops has already promised him aid in it.”

“You don’t think he really can make them stop shooting one another, do you?” the fairy asked.

“Who knows?” The elf shrugged. “Why not let him try? After all, he might succeed.”

“Even if he doesn’t, it’s delightful watching him,” Evanescent told them.

“You’ve a strange idea of fun.” The elf looked at her with a jaundiced eye. “Remind me not to play with you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Evanescent assured him. “I let others do my playing for me.”

“Lazy wight, aren’t you?” a fairy said with scorn.

“I earn my pleasure,” Evanescent told her, “earn it by helping my toys play their games—and the longer they live, the longer they keep away boredom for me. That gives me reason to help them while I can.”

“I suppose we will, too,” a fairy said grudgingly. “You’ll want us to protect your female, too, of course.”

“Chances are double with two working,” Evanescent replied. “Of course,” the elf said with a withering look. “Any other little thing you’d like to ask of us? Shall we move a mountain for you? Make a river flow upstream?”

“Don’t tell them you’ve seen me, of course,” Evanescent answered, “let alone talked to me.”

The elf gave her a long, narrow look. “Somehow I don’t think I’ll want to admit that, to them or any of the New Folk. All right, creature, we’ll aid them and you’ll aid them, and perhaps somehow they’ll bring peace to this sick and death-loving people.”

“Of course,” Evanescent agreed. “After all, we spirits must stick together.”

Leaves rustled behind them, and Gar knew there were more hard-faced people in floppy hats, loose trousers, and oversized jackets stepping out of the woods behind himself and Kerlew.

“Drop your packs and step aside,” a woman in the center directed. She was raw-boned and grizzle-haired, the lines of experience marking her face.

“Of course.” Gar slipped out of the straps and let the pack fall. Reluctantly, Kerlew did the same.

“Well, if we’ve got the goods, we don’t need the peddlers anymore,” a young man grunted and laid his cheek to his rifle’s stock, sighting at Gar.

Gar stepped back and swung his staff up, knocking the outlaw’s rifle high. It went off, the bullet clipping twigs from a tree, and the young outlaw shouted in anger.

Behind him, another rifle blasted and a man howled. “None of that!” a woman cried. “We’ll hit each other! Club them!”

A rifle butt came whistling overhand at Gar’s head. He pivoted and kicked; the man cried out as he fell.

“None of that!” the woman cried again, and Gar looked up to see an arrow pointed straight at him.

Kerlew gave a cry of defeat and held up both hands.

Gar sidestepped; the archer tracked him. Gar leaped in and the woman loosed. Gar spun aside; the arrow shot past him into another outlaw, who cried out in pain as Gar swung full-armed at the archer’s bow. She howled as it jolted against her hand, then fell loose.

Kerlew stared in disbelief. Another outlaw leaped up to hold a dagger to his throat, but Kerlew struck it up as he pulled his own knife.

“Hold!” the woman cried, and the band froze but stayed poised for action.

“Why, Regan?” the young man demanded.

“Don’t you see the young one’s coat, Jase?” Regan demanded. “It’s faded nearly to gray, like ours! That’s no clansman, but an outlaw like us!”

The bandits took a closer look, frowning. One or two nodded. “But the big one, his coat’s near new!” the young bandit protested.

“Are you blind?” Regan demanded. “New it may be, but it’s no plaid I’ve ever seen.”

“All right, so he’s a peddler!” Jase snapped. “That makes him fair game, doesn’t it?”

“Not when he has an outcast for a partner.” A burly older man shouldered up beside the young one. “How come you be keeping such company, boy?”

Kerlew shrugged. “Two are safer on the road than one, mister, and the peddler, he was good enough to welcome my company.”

“There’s sense in that.” Regan turned to Gar “We won’t steal from you, peddler, but we’ll trade—if we’ve anything you want, that is.”

“Fair enough, and a good deal for both,” Gar answered. “First, though, what do you say to breaking bread together?”