Directed by Cody, she rode Lebkuchen into the center of the ring where someone had set up a portable gun stand with three identical rifles on it. Above her was the great expanse of the tent roof. The arena was empty except for herself, her helper, her horse, the gun stand and the targets at the band-end of the tent. To her great pleasure, the rifles were all the same as that carbine she had used to prove herself. There was a man in an outfit of fringed buckskin and an animal-skin hat waiting beside the stand. He took Lebkuchen’s reins once she had dismounted and handed her the first rifle.

“Mornin’ missy,” he said, with a grin that showed he was lacking a tooth in front. “I’m Ned Toller. I’m more or less the stage manager. These here are Winchester repeating rifles. They hold fifteen shots each. Now what yer gonna do here, is take a shot at each one of those five targets. Then we’ll move back, you’ll take another five shots, and move back a third time, and you’ll take another five. Each time, we’ll take off the targets and five folks’ll ride around the ring displayin’ ’em. Then we’ll pull the rabbit across the end an’ yer gonna shoot it fifteen times. We’ll just call out how many times ya hit it. Then we’ll move all the way back, and yer gonna shoot one target fifteen times, an’ we’ll ride it around so people kin see how ya did.”

Now by this point, the entire company had gathered at the target end of the arena—at a more-than-safe distance from the targets themselves, in her estimation, but certainly near enough to see whether or not she hit. She suppressed a smile. None of them, other than Kellermann, Fox and Cody, had any idea of how good she was. And Kellermann had told her that she was much better than her predecessor. She knew she was about to impress them, thanks to the sylphs. As she waited for Kellermann to finish introducing her, a thought occurred to her. It would be a very good thing if she could firm her own concentration over the forces of the Air enough that she could do without the sylphs—just in case.

By this time, the upper reaches of the tent were full of sylphs, drawn by all the excitement. She sent a brief thought toward them—If you please, your assistance in this matter?—and the white-winged one she recognized from yesterday gathered up three of her sisters and wafted down to the firing line.