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But where the little sell-sider had been was a curlicue of disturbed dust. | But where the little sell-sider had been was a curlicue of disturbed dust. | ||
“Come, on Bill,” | “Come, on Bill,” said the great warrior of the hedge-people, kicking over the footmarks. “Our work here is done.” | ||
But the work was not done. Bill looked around nervously, and knew even then that they would be lucky to see out the night. | But his comrade paused. He feared that, perhaps the work was not done. That there was more magic, that might intervene in the relations between the hedgefolk and their bankers. “Bill? Bill! Are you awreet man?” | ||
Bill looked around nervously, and knew even then that they would be lucky to see out the night. “Aye, Melvin, aye. Awreet.” | |||
He joined his colleague on the march back to the line of trees, but his hands trembled beneath his cloak. | |||
<center>''Later that month''</center> | |||
The colossal trebuchets imploded. A great wind flattened the buy-side encampments. Sigils burned. The mercenary forces of the [[Dark Lord]] scattered to the four corners of the earth. | The colossal trebuchets imploded. A great wind flattened the buy-side encampments. Sigils burned. The mercenary forces of the [[Dark Lord]] scattered to the four corners of the earth. | ||