But La Tia, she didn't get dreamy hearing it. She was making a list. "Fish, birds, trees," she said when Arthur Stuart was done. "You don't get hungry, you don't get thirsty. Wind. And bugs, yes? Heat of the sun. What else? Anything?"

"You think you can make a charm that does the same thing?"

"I give it a try," said La Tia. "Best I can do." She grinned wickedly. "This my 'knack,' boy."

She immediately sent her friend Michele and a half dozen others who had obviously run her errands before, looking for the things she needed. Feather of a bird, fin of a fish-that was the hardest one-a living beetle, leaves of a tree. A pinch of dirt, a drop of water, ash from a fire, and when it was all in a little sachet she would blow into it and then seal it closed with the hair of a long-haired woman, who happened to be Marie herself.

By morning she had made a sachet for Arthur Stuart and one for herself, and sachets for each of the colonels. "Now we see if we hear this greensong as we walk," she said.

"What about me?" asked Marie. "And my mother?"

"You hold my hand," said La Tia. "Your mama, she hold Arthur hand. I do it other way, but you get thinking about love, you."

Arthur looked at her and raised his eyebrows as if the idea were ridiculous. Ignorant boy.

She held La Tia's hand and Arthur held Mother's hand and they started walking and ... nothing happened. It was nothing like what she had felt crossing the bridge.

"I guess we just need Alvin," said Arthur Stuart. "Though you'd think it was something that could be learned. I mean, he wasn't born with it. He learned it from Ta-Kumsaw himself."

La Tia groaned loudly and smacked him softly on the forehead. "You silly boy, why you no tell La Tia this be red man thing, this greensong? Get the colonels, all they, bring they sachet to me."

Soon the march was again halted and the colonels were gathered while the people mumbled and murmured about another delay in their journey.

One by one, La Tia opened each person's sachet and said, "All right, you. One drop of you blood, right now."

Well, how many people could do that without an argument? But Arthur Stuart, he came up and he said, "I can let a drop of your blood go from your finger, and it won't hurt, but only if you say yes." Well of course they all said yes, and sure enough, Arthur held their hand and closed his eyes and thought real hard and one single drop came out from under their fingernail and dropped into the sachet.

Once again La Tia blew into the sachet and closed it, but this time she added a blade of grass to the strand of Marie's hair to tie the top. "Now maybe," said La Tia.

And this time as they walked, the charm seemed to have some effect. Marie couldn't be sure she was actually responding to the greensong-she hadn't heard it, really, crossing the bridge. It had been more like a sort of intensity inside her as she pushed the wheelbarrow, so that her hands never got sore from the chafing of the handles, and her back never got weary, she just stepped on and on.

Well, something like that began to happen now. She had long since given up the wheelbarrow, and she and her mother had taken turns carrying the ball of bloodwater Alvin had created for her. But now she didn't need her mother to spell her off. The burden was still heavy, it just didn't make her tired. Didn't even make her shoulders ache where the straps dug in.

But she did get hungry and hot and thirsty during the day. Yet she didn't mind being hungry and thirsty and hot. And her feet always seemed to find the right place to step.

The only person it didn't work for was Arthur Stuart, until he finally took off the sachet and gave it to Mother. "I reckon while I'm spending all my thinking on making this fog stay ahead of us and behind us, and watching for heartfires of them as might mean us harm, this charm just don't affect me."

"Too bad for you, child," said La Tia. "Keep doing what you doing, we all pray for you."

Arthur Stuart tipped his hat to her and grinned and then strode on ahead.

Marie wanted to run to him and hold his hand and walk with him. But that was foolishness. For one thing, she needed the sachet to help her. For another thing, he needed to keep his mind on his work. And for a third thing, he probably wouldn't want her to.

As for the rest of the people, the sachets seemed to help. Little children kept up better. Adults who carried babies didn't get so tired. There weren't people constantly dropping out to rest and then losing their place in the company. So even though nobody walked faster than before, they actually made far more progress during the day.

They also waited until later to pick a plantation to be their host for the evening. "We've gone so far," said Arthur Stuart, "maybe the people here will think they're safe and not be looking out for us."

"You think I gonna walk up to no house?" said La Tia. "Wake up from you dream, you."

"What else can we do?" said Arthur Stuart.

"Kill them in their houses."

They all turned at the voice. It was Old Bart, the butler from the Cottoner house. "You heard me. You got this knack, boy. Use it. Reach into they hearts and stop them from beating no more."

"That would be murder," said Arthur Stuart.

"It ain't murder," said Old Bart. "It's war, and they be winning it, less you do what soldiers do, and kill them as would kill you."

"Not here," said Arthur Stuart. "Not today."

"You kill them, we win," insisted Old Bart. "Nothing but what they deserve, what they done to us."

"You dead?" asked La Tia. "Your heart stop beating?"

Old Bart whirled on her. "Don't you tell me how angry to be. I was dead inside for all them years, me a man, and couldn't act like one."

"Funny way to be dead, you got. Stand there talking. Bet you piss three time a day, too, you! How many dead man do that?"

Old Bart probably had an answer for that, but the laughter of those nearby convinced him that this wasn't the day to argue with her. But Marie saw that he hadn't changed his mind. Just changed his mind about talking about it.

"Kill them in they house," La Tia went on scornfully. "We want food. We want a place to sleep. Kill somebody for that in they own house?"

Arthur Stuart shook his head. "If I was in his place, I think I might feel the same."

"You men," said La Tia. "Killing just a thing you do."

"You know that ain't so," said Arthur Stuart. "But when it needs doing, I bet you glad you got somebody to do it."

This had gone far enough. "I know," said Marie. "I go alone."

"No!" her mother cried.

"They look for two women with two slaves. I go alone, and Arthur Stuart and La Tia, they come another way. Arthur, you look out for me, won't you?"

"I will," he said.

"I just go and explain to them. We only want food and a place to sleep. Only ... maybe you show power to them, while I'm talking. Put fog at every window. Show them it's better just to let us stay one night and go away."

They thought about it, and Arthur only improved on it a little. "All the windows but one," he said. "Clear sky through one window."

"Then we better do it before the sun goes all the way down," said Marie.

Only after everyone agreed and they headed for the house they had chosen did Marie start to realize what she had just done. What if they had shotguns this time? How fast was Arthur Stuart?

Just before they got within sight of the house, Arthur stopped them. "There's four grown men in this house, and six women. And no shortage of guns. And no children."

That was a bad sign, Marie knew. The children most likely had been sent away.

"Good sign," said La Tia. "They don't sent away the women. They don't think we come tonight."

"Fog as soon as I get inside," Marie reminded Arthur Stuart.

He squeezed her hand. "Count on me," he said.