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herself hovering over one of the enchanted forests of Cork: the trees that magic enabled this county to grow for their marvelous bark, providing employment and income for many residents. She circled until she spied a park that had good water and facilities; then she landed and refreshed herself. Her food was running low; she had money and would have to buy more soon, but right now she was too eager to locate the Gypsies.
    Back aloft, she searched for signs of their presence and soon spied a motley collection of tents. As she approached she saw the women with their pots, and the men with their horses and cattle, and the children playing, all of them wearing bright bits of color. These were they!
    She landed, rolled up her rug, and fitted it into her knapsack along with her harp. The combined load was fairly heavy, but she didn’t want to leave anything of value untended in this vicinity. Her prior experience with the Gypsies had taught her this caution.
    As she walked up, the Gypsy children flocked to her. “You want nice cloth?” one cried. “My mother has the best!”
    “You want fortune told?” another inquired. “My big sister knows all!”
    Then a Gypsy man strode toward her. His hair was midnight black and his eyes the same, making his dark skin seem light in comparison. With a wave of his arm he scattered the children. “Welcome, beautiful woman!” he exclaimed. “Come let me show you the wonders of perfect love!”
    “Just take me to your leader,” Orb said, somewhat daunted by this approach.
    “I am the leader,” he proclaimed, putting his arm around her. Because the knapsack was high on her back, his hand fell low. He squeezed.
    Orb leaped and whirled on him, her face flaming, and perhaps her bottom, too. “How dare you?” she demanded.
    The man laughed. “A woman of spirit!” he said. “What a joy to bed you!” His dark gaze seemed to transfix her, and somehow it seemed that the decision about her action had already been made.
    Orb put her left hand on the amulet hanging at her neck, drawing power from it. She knew the Gypsy couldn’t hurt her. Not physically. But his lewd words and behavior appalled her. She just wanted to get away from him and get about her business.
    The man, pressing what he perceived to be his advantage, reached for her again. But this time the power of the amulet manifested, and as his hand touched her, his volition drained away. These amulets had protected Luna and Orb throughout, the only exception being when they had invaded the Hall of the Mountain King, whose power was supreme within his own demesnes. But she had no onus against the Mountain King; he was a good man, if man he was, and his magic harp had vastly enhanced her life.
    Why hadn’t the amulet protected her from the man’s familiarity before? Because she hadn’t known it was coming,and he hadn’t known it would offend her. Now she did know, and so did he, and the protective magic was operating. A matter of interpretation, perhaps, but it made all the difference.
    Now that she had him helpless, she had a better idea. “You’re not the leader, are you?” she said.
    “No,” he agreed. “I just told you that so you would like me.”
    “Perhaps you can help me anyway,” she continued. “I am looking for the Llano. What can you tell me?”
    “The Llano!” he exclaimed, and his hand fell away from her. At that point he recovered his volition. “What did you do to me, woman?”
    “I overwhelmed you with my personality,” she said sweetly. “Are you going to answer my question?”
    He whistled. “Lady, I think I had better! But all I can tell you is that we don’t know where to find the Llano. I don’t think any of us can, here. I think you would have to ask at the source of the Gypsies.”
    “And where is that?”
    He looked embarrassed. “We don’t know that either. We think we came up out of Egypt, through Spain; that is how we derive our name, E-Gypt-sy. But that may be just a