"Three hundred acres is a lot of land, Senõr Logan," the land agent said in accented English, wiping his glistening brow with a slightly threadbare handkerchief. "What will you do with it?"

"That's my business," Logan replied in a low rumble, and the agent started a bit. He, however, was either a fool or braver than he seemed, because he didn't drop the subject.

"There are good trees in that area," the agent continued, although the sale was already made. "Some of the trees are hundreds of years old." He looked at Logan out of the corners of his dark, almond-shaped eyes. "It would be a pity if they were logged or clear-cut."

It was Logan's turn to start a little, and he looked back at the agent, who was now looking off into the trees marking the beginning of the land in question and not meeting Logan's gaze. Since when did land agent's of the rainforest care what their clients did with the property? "You don't need to worry about that, bub. I don't want anyone skulking around in there at all, actually. If they do, I want to know about it."

The agent nodded once, and there was a bit of relief in his face, as he hefted the bag of gold Logan had given him. "Very good, sir; perhaps some of the tribes here could watch it for you. They know this place better than anyone."

Logan nodded back. "Yeah, good idea, just pay 'em well."

The agent allowed a little bit of a smile, and met Logan's gaze. "They will be paid well indeed. I would hate to have to answer to you if they were not."

"Got that right," Logan said, and looked at the trees with satisfaction.

He had gone back to the mining site, of course. It had been a wreck. He didn't know how many acres had been burned, but it made him sick to see the toppled trees and ash covering everything. He had found no sign of Sabretooth or Blaze, which worried him a little bit. Maybe they had gotten out.

What he had found were almost as disturbing. In the remnants of the smashed, charred tent, were incubation boxes with bits of ash in the half-melted plastic. What had been inside? Plants to study? Why? Sabretooth was no scientist.

And then there were the footprints he came across - almost as wide as he was tall, and a foot deep into the ash and soil. And there were a lot of them, all over the site, intermingled with trees that looked as if they had been ripped up by their roots and thrown in rage and generators smashed like crushed soda cans filling the mine like a landfill. In one area there was a depression so huge he thought it had been an abandoned mining site. (no ... .that's where one of 'em fell)

No bodies however. He was sort of glad about that. He realized he didn't want to know what the Unseen were. He knew he wasn't a coward, and he would have ripped the lungs out of anyone who said so, but he was forest-born, and some things even Logan didn't mess with.

But he had taken as much gold as he could scrounge up from the site, and the baskets that the natives had dropped, which was a LOT, a whole lot. If he had just decided to keep it, he would have been a very rich man, but that hadn't been the deal. Logan was a man of his word.

Once Guiana had woken from her sleep, he had her point the way to the nearest city where he could close the deal. Three hundred acres of rainforest as a private purchase, restricted to anyone but Logan and the natives who guarded it. The mine would be filled in permanently, the destroyed forest replanted, and whatever the natives needed, they could use the gold that he had left them. But no logging, no mining, and no hunting other than what was needed for food.

"Permit me to say, Mr. Logan," the agent said hesitantly, staring off into the trees again, "you do a good thing today. Most gringos come to make their bit of forest a wasteland, and they do not care about the people - and other things - that live here."

"Let's just say I was convinced that it was important," Logan said gruffly. "Just take care of it, all right?"

"Si," the agent replied quickly, and Logan turned to go. But, after another hesitation, he called out again.

"Senõr - "

"What now?" Logan growled, half-turning to the real-estate agent.

The agent swallowed once at the glint of annoyance in Logan's eyes, and then a change overcame him. There was pride in his eyes, and he lifted his chin proudly. "My family lived in the forests before we went to the city," the agent replied evenly. "This place is as much home to me as my condo. I promise you, that this place, and all that dwell in it, will be safe."

Logan locked gazes with the agent, who did not drop his eyes from Logan's fixed stare. Unusual ... but perhaps, forest-born knew their own. How much did this guy guess? Did he know of Guiana? Then Logan noted something he hadn't seen before; the man's facial structure and build made him look very similar to the faces that had been carved into the rock that Guiana had showed him

"They think me a god," she had said. They still offered food and gold to her, even now. Yeah, why shouldn't this guy, who had lived in the forests as a kid, not know who Guiana was?

"Remember to cook the meat," Logan said, staring into the agent's face.

The agent gave a wry grin. " Of course, senor, she likes it best that way. Not all of us forget the old ways. I will take care of this place, and look forward to seeing you again, yes?"

Logan looked off into the trees, and sniffed. He caught a scent, one that now seemed as familiar to him as his own, and knew he was going to miss it, but he was awful at good-byes. However, it wasn't permanent. If she lived as long as he did, he knew he had somewhere to come to when he needed to be around someone who understood just a little bit of where he was coming from. Some place where he could have peace.

"Yeah," he said, not sure if he was talking to the agent, or to who listened beyond. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

The agent nodded, and bowed from the waist, a strange thing for a man of the South Americas to do. Logan half expected him to cross his arm over his chest as he did it. "Very good, until then, Mr. Logan."

"Yeah, see ya," Logan said, nodding once, and then turning back to the road. His plane was waiting, and he had to report the goings-on to the Prof, maybe even set up some surveillance on the forest to make sure that Sabretooth didn't come sneaking back. He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets, brooding as he walked away.

The forest would be here, waiting for him. He'd be back soon.