Jasper, Citrine, and all the hunters dragged a massive log over to the crystal. It was far too heavy to lift onto the cart, so they left it within arm's reach of the spire.

I remained on the sidelines where I'd been exiled after a similarly-sized log had rolled off the wheels in my direction. I had been quick enough to skip out of the way, but after that, the hunters politely insisted they'd rather not have to explain any injuries to Grant. Citrine had joined the task force as if making up for my absence. That was also the last time the wheels had been used.

"I think that's about it for today," Clyde said, wiping sweat off his brow. "Running through the forest with a bow is one thing, but I'm getting too old to do this sort of heavy lifting all day."

"You're not allowed to retire," I promptly informed him. "Because then I'd have to find someone else who can put up with me, and that's a tall order."

He grinned in reply. I surveyed our small group; the other hunters were already putting the axes in the cart, so everyone was calling it quits. Citrine and Jasper stood to the side. I was vaguely surprised they had stayed here all day.

The airship had become just another background object, no longer a cause for concern, at least for us. A few other porting groups—only one of which I had recognized—had bounced the instant they spotted it or the Saursunes.

"Unless someone has a reason to stay, I think we're ready to go?" I asked the hunters as I moved into the gap between the crystal and the cart. "I can leave the melons and stuff at the Guard Station for Roxanne to take back home. It might be too much for her to port twice when she has some of my group."

"That works for me," Clyde said, coming over and holding onto my shoulder and the crate of melons.

As the others gathered around, I bowed my head at the two Saursunes and told them, "Thank you."

They replied with a hurr, likewise dipping their heads. Once all the hunters were hanging on, I directed my mind to the familiar scanning station. Light shimmered through my veins; the cart was heavier than when it was loaded with water—a weight that no longer bothered me.

The ends of the logs dragged in an unpleasant fashion where they touched the ground, but even with the cow, crate of melons, and hunters, not even the faintest hint of porting strain appeared. It was definitely a heavy port, but even after sharing my energy this morning and porting the cart back to the village half a dozen times to be unloaded, it didn't send me to my knees.

The hazy greens of the small saplings faded into the sandy color of the desert cliffside outlook. As I had hoped, we were the first group back, so I didn't have to worry about knocking someone over with the big cart.

The hunters reclaimed the axes and carried them over to our storage corner. As the guard circled us with the scanner, the light remained green. I didn't hold much faith in it anymore. It had never once betrayed the location of the trackers in the axes and spears.

"How about we head home in ten minutes?" I asked the hunters. "The Saursunes weren't wearing any pouches to hide trackers in."

They exchanged looks, and Clyde finally said, "I don't see any harm in it. Even if they did slip a tracker into the cart, I doubt our scanner would detect it regardless of how long we waited."

The guard with the scanner gave him a sour look but didn't comment. Everyone was convinced there were trackers in the Saursune axes and spears. The strangest part was that an airship had never come here, although some suspected an airship had snuck close at night to confirm this was a scanning location and not a village.

I grabbed a small melon out of the crate and carried it over to the elderly porter. "Could you please keep an eye on the sacks, crate, and cow, and ask Roxanne or Merryl to port them back?"

"Certainly," Weylan replied, reaching for the melon with more eagerness than I had ever seen him display.

I took a closer look at him, noticing how loosely his clothing hung on his thin body. Theoretically, I'd known that Keywa Village was on starvation rations since none of their porters were willing to let the Saursunes get that close to them, but for a porter to be so thin—even if he was too elderly to work and could only port a few times a day—really made it hit home.

Keeping my voice too low for anyone else to hear, I asked, "Can I inquire why you don't let the Saursunes siphon some of your energy in exchange for food?"

He'd been one of the most optimistic porters, so it seemed strange.

His narrow shoulders slumped with his heavy sigh. "I can't leave this place long enough for a Saursune to find me, and the few times I tried, every place already had a group there. My ports are quite limited."

The wording of his reply made me furrow my eyebrows. "Don't you go home at night?"

"Only long enough to eat, visit the grandkids, and return. I've been sleeping here for months now in case airships show up after sundown."

I was quiet as I tried to digest that. Surely there had to be an alternative—I couldn't just let him starve to death here. Letting him take one of our axes to some random location would be an easy way to get the Saursunes to show up, but he probably wouldn't want to be seen with a sharp tool in his hands. There was another easy option though...

"Actually, sleeping here might work in your favor since no one can claim you'll bring danger back to your village. How serious are you about approaching a Saursune in exchange for food?"

He met my eyes. "My great grandchildren currently cry themselves to sleep every night with hunger, even the ones whose parents are both porters. At this point, I'm willing to try anything."

"Come on, I want to show you something." I stepped back and waved him toward the crystal. Weylan stood up without hesitation. To my hunters, I said, "We'll be back in a few minutes."

They exchanged glances, although none asked if they could accompany us. Then again, even without hearing our conversation, they might have guessed I was going to find a Saursune.

I rested my hand on the spire and waited for the elderly porter to catch up and hold onto my arm. I silently directed my mind to Smooth Stone Thicket near the sheep farm. The farmer had already proven to be friendly and always seemed to be in the area.

The way Citrine and Jasper had picked up on simple phrases in certain situations—like thank you after a trade—also made me suspect that we could "train" the farmer to connect a shouted "hello" with the arrival of a porter.

As our sight cleared, a handful of people from Briar Village looked up.

I waved at Mark. "Hey, Mark. Do you mind company for a few minutes? Weylan wants to see if the farmer is willing to trade."

"Be our guest," he replied from where he sat beside two dead sheep. "He passed by just a few minutes ago."

"Do you still want to try this?" I asked Weylan.

He nodded somberly. "We need the food desperately. If I recall the stories right, once he shows up with something, I just have to walk over and let him circle around me?"

"That's all. Now let's see if we can teach the farmer a new trick." Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted, "Hello!"

The loud sound—the loudest I'd probably ever made outside of the village—made my heart hammer as I broke the formerly very important rule of being quiet.

I shivered despite it being my idea. "Okay, that put goosebumps down my spine, but I bet if you call out each time you show up, he'll learn to come running with some sort of trade."

Weylan nodded slowly, possibly starting to second guess his idea as the reality of it set in. It was one thing to say he wanted to trade, but it was quite a bit scarier when a large four-legged reptile was about to appear in front of him. Especially when he had lived so many decades by avoiding the deadly aliens, not walking toward one.

Less than a minute later, the bushes rustled as a pale brown Saursune raced closer, slowing dramatically before trotting into the small clearing. He stopped and blinked at the laidback scene and two new arrivals, possibly having mistaken the shout as a request for help.

I inclined my head at the farmer then turned to Weylan as I gestured to the farmer—carefully keeping the motion to a palm-up "here he is" style and nothing that could possibly be taken as aggression. "Well, this is the farmer. I already donated energy today, but I can walk closer with you if you want."

Even as he took a cautious step forward, he murmured, "I'd appreciate that. I forgot how big they were."

I matched his slow pace, which was mostly due to his age, not his fear. The farmer sat down and blinked a few more times at us—no, he was definitely more focused on Weylan. Was it because of his age or possibly because this was a porter the Saursunes had never seen before? I wasn't sure, but the farmer quickly got over his surprise and began to glance between Weylan and the direction of the farm with growing excitement.

The farmer used a claw to scratch something into a patch of dirt by his hand. He looked between it and us as we got closer. Weylan trembled, his fear finally taking hold now that he was a mere five paces away from the Saursune.

I leaned forward to peer at the scratches in the dirt, which were actually rough outlines. His drawing skills might have matched my weaving ones, but the cloud-shaped bodies clearly defined them as sheep.

The farmer tapped his hand beside the drawing, giving it a pointed look, then he gestured to Mark's two sheep before bobbing his head in Weylan's direction. While I was still staring at the first hand-gesture I'd ever seen a Saursune make, Weylan took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The light brown Saursune slowly stood up and eased closer, closing his eyes as he gently rubbed the side of his head against the frail porter's arm. I backed up a few steps so the Saursune didn't think I was here to donate energy as well.

As the Saursune started to circle him, I noticed Weylan holding his breath, and I murmured, "Don't forget to breathe."

The elderly porter tried to breathe normally. Less than two circles later, the farmer stepped away and bowed his head at Weylan. He tapped the sheep drawing a couple of times, then turned and darted into the shrubs, quickly hitting speeds that sent goosebumps up my spine before he was out of sight.

"I think it's safe to say that he's going to fetch your sheep," I told him.

Weylan wiped his face and yawned. "That was...different. It didn't hurt like I thought it might. I'm also not as tired as I expected."

I examined his expression. "I don't think he took as much energy as usual. Porters usually look more tired."

"How long will it take him to return? I don't want to leave the Guard Station without a porter for long."

"If you want, I can wait there until you return," I offered. "Or would you rather me stay here and give you a lift back to save your ports?"

He considered it for a moment, "I should have no difficulty porting the sheep back. Thank you for watching the guards while I wait."

"No problem. Feel free to ask me whenever I'm there. I'm sure others will also help," I said as I walked back to the crystal.

The elderly porter nodded as he examined the rough drawing of the two sheep by his feet. I ported back to the Guard Station.

As my view cleared, I told the guards and my hunters, "Weylan will be back shortly. He's waiting with Mark while the Saursune farmer fetches two sheep."

"You took him to a farm?" the guard from Keywa Village demanded.

The anger in his voice made me stare at him, although my thoughts soon caught up. Weylan was from Keywa Village, and they completely avoided farms and harvest-ready fields for generations, even longer than Vermilion Village had. A mere month of the Saursunes being "friendly" clearly hadn't changed their rules.

I straightened my back. "He's safe with Mark's group. If you don't want any mutton, I'm sure the kids will be more than happy to eat your share."

He glared at me before his eyes flickered to the hunters who had drifted closer to me in a silent show of support. "When are you folks going to realize that it's a huge trap? Trying to trade with them is just as bad as taking crops from the fields!" With a snort, he turned and stormed into one of the nearby caves.

I watched him go, then shook my head and told my hunters, "I promised Weylan I'd stay here until he returned, so we could be here a few minutes."

They nodded but didn't stray far from my side. The other guards occasionally glanced at the cave opening where the Keywa guard was muttering to himself, but they didn't seem bothered by the fact that one more porter would be bringing food provided by the Saursunes.

I sat on the ground and leaned my back against a cart wheel as I closed my eyes. The trades seemed honest enough, although many were convinced it was an elaborate trap. Less than a month had gone by though, so there really wasn't a way for us to know how permanent these changes were.

The more I thought about it, the more I questioned it myself. Was our energy truly so valuable that a regular porter's daily energy was worth two entire sheep? Or worth having a large group tromp all over their pasture?

What if they were slowly slipping undetectable trackers into various objects and pinpointing every crystal we knew of for a future attack? If so, I was dooming several villages because of my subtle encouragement and letting them see what I was bringing back.

When I thought of how Citrine and Jasper had acted, I couldn't believe treachery was one of their motives. Yet, I had been chased by other Saursunes mere months ago, and I'd lost friends to the reptile-like aliens, albeit none had been within the last month.

I sighed as my thoughts chased themselves in circles. Were all Saursunes genuinely interested in trading? Or just some? Were there possibly others who were concocting an elaborate plan to finally get rid of the human pests once and for all? And why did life seem so difficult some days?