Jureem gasped. The wylde shouted a cry that shook the earth as the wind struck, lifted her in the air—so that she became a streak of green climbing high above the trees toward the south. Then she was gone.

The glade became quiet. The wind stilled.

Jureem stood, dumbfounded. He did not know if this was what Binnesman had sought. Had his wylde leapt away on some errand? Had the wind carried her off?

Had it really even been a green woman?

Jureem’s heart was pounding, and he stood breathless, overawed. Confused.

He looked to his left and to his right, to see the reactions of the soldiers. It had all happened so quickly.

Prince Orden’s mount neighed in terror, reared back and pawed the air nervously. To the horse it would have seemed that the green woman simply materialized at its feet.

“Peace,” Binnesman said to the horse. It calmed at his admonition, and Binnesman gazed steadily upward, where his creation had disappeared into the sky.

He appeared . . . crestfallen.

Something was wrong. Binnesman had not expected the wylde to flee like this.

Now Binnesman was drained. Weakened. Old and hunched in his crimson robes. If he’d planned for the wylde to fight for him, then the plan seemed to have gone horribly awry. Binnesman hung his head and shook it in dismay.

“Faagh,” Raj Ahten hissed. “What have you done, you old fool of a wizard? Where is the wylde? You promised me a weapon.”

Binnesman shook his head.

“Are you so inept?” Raj Ahten demanded.

Binnesman glanced at Raj Ahten, gave him a wary look. “It is not an easy thing to draw a wylde from the earth. It has a mind of its own, and it knows the earth’s enemies better than I. Perhaps urgent matters call it elsewhere.”

Binnesman held out a hand toward Raj Ahten’s horse. The three remaining horses all responded by moving toward him, and Jureem had to fight his mount a moment, to keep it from stepping forward.

“What are you doing?” Raj Ahten asked.

Binnesman answered, “It is growing late. It is time for the enemies of the earth to rest their eyes, and to dream of peace.”

Jureem fought his horse and watched in wonder as, almost instantly, Raj Ahten and his soldiers fell asleep. Most of them fell to the earth, snoring deeply, but Raj Ahten himself stood in place as he slept.

The old wizard looked at the sleeping warriors and whispered, “Beware, Raj Ahten. Beware of Longmot.”

Then he looked up, caught Jureem’s eye. “You are still awake? What a wonder! You alone among them are not an enemy of earth.”

Jureem fumbled for words, aghast to see his master thus subdued, astonished to see the old wizard and his charges still alive.

“I . . . serve my master, but I wish the earth no harm.”