Free Dawn of the Flame Sea by Jean Johnson

Together they went back to mixing and hauling soil and stone chips without words, prepping the beds for future local plants to use.
    ***
    Year 0, Month 0, Day 6
    After scrying and eavesdropping for six-plus days, the Fae Rii pantean knew that this tribe called itself the White Sands people, and that they had been forced out of their home territory by warring tribes far to the south. They knew the leader was the wound-crippled middle-aged man who sat most of the time under one of the bigger shade trees in the local valley. His name, they had learned, was Tah-yuh Halek, and that despite the wounds slowing him down, he was a good leader.
    They also knew he had two women he looked to for advice: the huntress Puna, who had given orders during Ban’s second confrontation with the natives, and a woman draped in bone-beaded fringes, Zudu the animadj, so named because she could manipulate the anima and anima-wisps that were the local names for magic, both free-flowing and condensed. There were others observed who had some rank, and some who were potential troublemakers, but those three were the primary ones to contact and hopefully befriend.
    Naturally, Ban was the one sent to inform them of their impending visit. Not because he could be tactful when needed—he could—but because if the natives reacted badly and attacked, he was the one member of their group who would survive an ambush. Of course, he knew that, and the Fae knew that. It was hoped the White Sands Tribe would not react harshly, however; there was no need for them to learn of it. One hoped.
    Ban wouldn’t care either way, save that it was Jintaya’s wish for him to remain inconspicuous. Difficult considering his clothes, his height, his tattoos and foreign features, but that was her wish. Walking calmly, quietly, politely up to the cave mouth where the tribe had taken refuge, he saw the two hunters on early-morning watch start and grab for their spears as he came into view.
    The mouth of the cave they had chosen was a bit too wide for them to get into position to block his entrance. The nearer of the two men called out quietly, torn between a warning and not wanting to awaken and alarm everyone still asleep. “You, stranger—stop!”
    â€œI will speak with your leader, Halek. You may accompany me inside.” There, that was his gesture of diplomacy. A brief glance behind showed the hunter debating a moment, before he gripped his spear and followed Ban, gesturing for the other one to remain at the mouth of the cave.
    Entering the cave without breaking stride, the tall outworlder stepped around, and in some cases over, the bodies sprawled out or curled up on the ground, depending how each person preferred to sleep. Some stirred, awakened, and started at the sight of him. They whispered among themselves, nudging and waking the others. With the dim glow of dawn at his black-clad back, they probably couldn’t see him well, but he had no problems with the dim lighting. Not with the aid of his magic-infused tattoos.
    By the time he got to the back of the cave, where Jintaya had shown him a scrying of where their leader slept, the middle-aged man named Halek already sat upright. He calmly followed Ban’s movements, while a couple of men who had been resting nearby quickly worked on stirring up the coals of the nearest campfire, eyes flicking warily between the coals and the stranger in their midst.
    â€œBan,” the graying man acknowledged as their visitor came to a stop.
    â€œHalek.” Crouching, forearms resting on his knees, Ban looked the bearded man in the eyes. He knew the others had reported everything they had heard and seen about the pantean’s many activities to their leader, from his very first encounter with their tribe all the way to the cessation of stone types being exchanged, earlier. “Tomorrow, when the sun touches the third band from the top of the ravine we have claimed, Jintaya will