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dresses still had bodices that accented her chest, tight waists, and flowing skirts. Her choices were sable brown, forest green, or jewel red, all in gleaming fairy silk that clung to her like wet paint. The red one, at least, had pockets and a shorter skirt. She had to admit that she looked fairly kicky with her new gun belt riding low on her hip. She added her polished black riding boots and the ruby jewelry that Windwolf had given her. She practiced drawing her pistol and pointed it at the mirror. "You looking at me? Uh? You looking at me?"
    "No, domi , I cannot see you," Pony said from the other side of the closet door.
    She laughed, holstering the pistol. "Did Windwolf find the monster that attacked me and kill it?"
    "No."
    "Okay." She came out of the closet. "Since we can't do anything about Turtle Creek, let's focus on the monster."
    " Domi , I do not think we should go after the dragon alone."
    "Dragon?"
    "It was an oni dragon and very difficult to kill."
    "Well, yeah, which is why I should figure out how to kill it. The oni probably have more than one. There has to be a way to take down its shields so anyone with a gun can kill it."
    Pony looked at her nervously, as if he suspected she was going to hunt down the oni dragon and poke it with sticks.
    Tinker felt the need to reassure him that she didn't have anything that radical in mind. "I want to start with Lain; she's a xenobiologist. When you've got a problem outside your field of specialty, you go to an expert."

    * * *
A flatbed semi trailer sat parked in front of Lain's stately Victorian mansion. A yellow canvas tarp covered something lumpy. The xenobiologist stood on the trailer, leaning on her crutch, watching Tinker park the Rolls. Something about Lain's face made Tinker suspect that somehow the trailer was her fault.
    Page 48
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    "I thought you might turn up today," Lain said.
    "Well, apparently I need a small army to go back to Turtle Creek, and Windwolf has all the sekasha today except Pony and Stormsong."
    Said sekasha had already split up into Blade and Shield. Stormsong had moved off to scout the area as a Blade. Pony trailed behind Tinker, acting as Shield.
    "So, I thought I'd come talk to you about the monster that attacked me yesterday," Tinker said. "The sekasha are saying it's an oni dragon."
    "Ah." Lain made a sound of understanding. "I suppose I should thank you for your present."
    "Present?" Tinker eyed the trailer apprehensively. What had she done now without realizing it?
    Lain flipped up one corner of tarp to reveal limp willowy branches. "They told me that you sent it."
    The black willow! " He eats the fruit of the tree that walks. " Tinker shivered as recognition crawled down her spine. It was just too weird having another part of her dream show up with her name attached to it. "I sent it?"
    "That's what they told me," Lain said.
    Tinker could remember finding the tree, but she—she didn't order this. Or had she? She turned to Pony.
    "Did I ask . . . ?" His look of concentration made her realize that she had been so rattled that she was still speaking English; she switched Elvish. "Did I ask to have the black willow brought here?"
    "You said you would love to give it to Lain."
    That apparently that had been enough of an order for Pony. Tinker really had to keep in mind that the sekasha took her word as law. While she had been smothered in attention, the elves had bound up the long limp branches and sturdy trunk-feet and hauled it to the Observatory. Once at Lain's, however, they'd abandoned it—trailer and all.
    Lain had warned her once about elves bearing gifts. Tinker winced, realizing that she had become one of said elves.
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    "I'm sorry, Lain." She made sure she was speaking English, afraid that she might insult Pony for her own stupidity. "I didn't know they were going to

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