The air above Peace River sparkled and smelled oddly, the land of the settlements, north by northwest of the Agave Sea, and home of the dark prince and his wife. Thrown into the cooking fire, the Fairy"s herbs curled and sizzled, little bits and white smoke rising from Tevron"s chimney.
“I guess I"ve destroyed that peace charm from the Fairy Queen,” Tevron said with a sense of victory. “It"s all burned up, just as the big Troll said it would be.”
“I guess you might have done the job, all right,” Mariette rinsed out the stew pot. “All that la-de-da stuff about peace and hope makes me sick.”
“Maybe it"s best if they think that we"re for it, though.” Tevron grew thoughtful as he continued to watch the fire burn the dense logs and the last of the herbs vanished into ash. “Put them off guard
