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The young woman sat at the tiller bench quietly Her wrists were thin as icicles, her eyes as clear as the e, steady and white The wind blew at her and, like an i out from her frail body in tatters of blue rain

"Go back," she said

"No" Sa of a hornet suspended in the air, undecided between fear and hate "Get off my ship!"

"This isn't your ship," said the vision "It's old as our world It sailed the sand seas ten thousand years ago when the seas hispered away and the docks were empty, and you cao back to the crossroad place We have need to talk with you So important has happened"

"Get off un from his holster with a creak of leather He pointed it carefully "Jump off before I count three or--"

"Don't!" cried the girl "I won't hurt you Neither will the others We came in peace!"

"One," said Sam

"Sam!" said Elma

"Listen to irl

"Two," said Saer

"Sam!" cried Elma

"Three," said Sam

"We only--" said the girl

The gun went off

In the sunlight, snowIn the firelight, vapors dance and vanish In the core of a volcano, fragile things burst and disappear The girl, in the gunfire, in the heat, in the concussion, folded like a soft scarf, urine What was left of her, ice, snowflake, smoke, bleay in the wind The tiller seat was empty