The old man threw down his tools in a huff of irritation. He jerked his head up and grunted as he stalked outside. The five human pack members stood looking at each other and the two young assistants that were left there staring up at the five strangers and the wild dog that seemed to always follow them.

  They waited a long time. The young man working the bellows continued to punch the two air bags, though he looked at the younger boy assistant and the five strangers, silently asking what was going on, or if he should keep working the bellows or not. The other boy kept looking to the older one. They didn’t know what to do, so they kept doing what they had last been told to do.

  Acharya and Mary helped to ease Tara down to the floor and propped her up against the wall. Asclepius moved closer to the native woman but stayed far enough away to not add his body heat to hers.

  The old man exploded back into the hut. He looked half crazed. The shocked looks that everyone in the hut gave him made him pause for a moment and run his fingers through his hair and wipe down his face and scrub and smooth his beard.

  He looked to his two assistants and spoke to them. The young man at the bellows spoke back in a concerned voice but the old man raised his voice and jabbed a finger toward the door. The boy practically ran from the hut and the young man, gave one last angry punch to his bellows before kicking himself up from his spot on the floor and stalked from the hut.

  The old man picked up his tongs from where he had thrown them on the floor and removed the piece of red-hot metal from the forge. He looked at the metal and placing it on his flat rock, began beating the piece of metal with his hammer.

  The five pack members stood there, not quite sure what happened, or what they should do. Since the old man hadn’t sent them out of the hut they weren’t going to leave. They needed to get his help. It was just a question of if what they had done the night before was enough to earn the old man’s trust.

  The sparks flew from the piece of metal with every drop of the hammer. The old man worked in a ceaseless rhythm. The hammer fell down; sparks flew up. The steady and constant ring of the of the hammer upon the metal was at once soothing and harsh upon the ears of the pack.

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  The old man picked up the metal and quenched it in the bucket of water that was nearby, causing a plume of steam and an angry hissing noise to assault the hut.

  “When I was a boy,” the old man began in perfect English.

  This caused everyone in the pack to drop their jaws and gasp in surprise. Even Asclepius cocked his head to the side in surprise.

  The old man didn’t notice and he kept his attention on the piece of metal that he was working. He plunged it back into the hot coals and motioned for Aiman to operate the bellows. The Enforcer did as he was bade and started punching the bags of the bellows just as the young man had done.

  The old man swept hot coals onto the piece of metal and continued, “I was told a tale of a very wise young man who wanted to marry some pharaoh’s or king’s daughter, or some such.” The old man scoffed a little, “men are always seeking marriage in these stories, not love. Have you ever noticed that?”

  The pack just stared at the old man still in shock and wondering what the heck he was talking about.

  The old man shrugged, “Oh well, we men still chase after beauty and love like fools as the saying goes. The young man was tasked with killing a wild stag in the far away woods, far to the east or west, doesn’t matter. The woods were on the other side of a desert. The young man knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry a dead animal all the way across the great desert before it rotted. So, he made a deal with a merchant along the way. That he would exchange a freshly killed and skinned carcass for a live animal. He went to the forest and killed the stag and skinned it and carried it back across the desert to the merchant he had befriended. The merchant gave him a live animal which he killed and skinned and brought back to the king. Or something like that,” He shook his head, “It was a long time ago.”

  He looked up at the pack, “What trick did you pull to get the plants to grow and mature over night?” He eyed Tara who was drifting in and out of sleep against the wall. “Did you have a helicopter bring you fresh crops and you replaced our crops with them?” He looked up at Acharya, “Are they poisoned?” He looked over at Mary and Malikah, “Did you put a curse upon them or hex them in some way?”

  Mary put her hands on her hips and leaned forward in her usual power pose, “Old man, Tara is exhausted after doing what she did for you and this village and you have the gall to ask if we poisoned or put some kind of curse on the gift that she and Acharya gave to you? After treatment like that maybe we shouldn’t have helped you after all.”

  Acharya motioned for her to calm down, “Sir, we have done nothing but help this village and give your people healthy crops for the upcoming year.” He shrugged his shoulders, “We need your help, and yes, if you must know, we did use a trick.”

  “Ha!” The old man cackled, “I caught you in your lie! How did you do it?”

  Acharya stood up and for a brief moment a very dark shadow slid across his face. It only lasted a moment before his easy smile was on his lips again, “Follow me, I’ll show you our trick.”