"Go Mage and take the others with you, I wish to speak to Nez-lah." He motioned with a shaking hand for her to leave. Juan knelt in her place and began to comfort him.

"I was right about you," said the chief, looking at Bando. "I know why you came back now."

Bando looked at the dying man with contempt. "I came back for my soul, not yours."

The chief raised his head. "Take mine and go! You don't have to take the oth-" his lungs gurgled deeply before he could finish. Juan cradled the chief's head in his hands. Bando left without speaking. He spoke at Juan between increasingly shallow breaths. Juan wished he knew the language so he could know this man's dying words. Minutes later the chief stopped speaking and then stopped breathing altogether. He stared into Juan's eyes. Juan smiled. Breathless, the chief showed his yellow irregular teeth and closed his eyes.

Juan folded the chief's arms across his chest, straightened his loose-fitting robe and stepped outside. The village was silent as he walked to Bando's shop.

He was inside working feverishly, tossing his tools down as he finished only to pick them up from the same pile when he needed them again. "What did the chief say to you, Bando?"

The young African was shaking visibly. "He thinks I came back for their souls, he asked that I take only his, and go." Bando threw the curved stone he was working with against the wall. "He's wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!" he shouted angrily.

"I know Bando, I know," Juan said, picking up the curved tool and handed it back to him. "Bando, it seemed to me that the chief didn't like you." Bando nodded his head, his eyes still cast down. "Well, now that he is gone things will be easier for you here." Bando took back the tool without looking at him. "I've seen this sickness before, in Asia," Juan continued. "It usually kills only the old and weak, like the chief. The others should recover in a few days and in a few days I'll be gone."

Bando looked up at Juan, his eyes watering. "You're leaving soon?"

"Yes, I must leave soon to meet Tovar and tell him that you died and that there is nothing here so that he will pass and you can live here in peace."

"You would do that?"

"Yes, I will, but I need more of these to take with me," Juan said, holding up a piece Bando had finished.

"I can make 15 in two days and two nights. Is that enough?"

"In gold?"

"No, not all gold. 11 gold, 4 silver, enough?" asked Bando.

Juan looked at the palm-sized gold medallion in his hand. He tossed it into the air, feeling its weight. "Yes, it will be enough." Juan laid the completed piece next to the 4 others and left the workshop.