She shrugged. "Bandits from the city outskirts. They make raids up here occasionally. There are always rumors in Galu that the hill people hoard gold.

The greedy fools think it's true. I wish they'd leave us alone. We don't bother them." She gazed at him stonily. "Who sent you to find me, and why?"

"Queen Veda sent me," Qui-Gon said.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Then go back to Galu. I don't recognize her authority."

"Don't you want to know what she wants?"

Elan crossed to the swoop and swung a leg over the saddle. "Something about the election, I'm sure. It's no concern of mine." She pointed back the way Qui-Gon had come. "The way back is that way. Don't stay in the hills. You'll be sorry if you do."

He didn't know if she was threatening him, or warning him against other bandit attacks. Another swoop flew toward them and stopped, hovering in the air. A tall young man with bluish skin gave Qui-Gon a quick glance, then turned to Elan.

"Bad storm coming."

"I know, Dana," Elan said, casting a worried eye at the sky. "When they come in, they come in hard."

As if to illustrate her words, the snowfall suddenly began. The flakes were like hard crystals, peppering Qui-Gon's exposed skin. He leaned over to retrieve the survival pack he'd dropped when the fight began. The pain cut him to the quick, and he let out an involuntary hiss.

"He's wounded," Dana said.

Elan frowned, annoyed. "I can't send you back, I suppose. Wounded, with this storm. You'd never survive. And night falls quickly in the mountains."

Qui-Gon waited. His wounds hurt him. But they would heal. Now it appeared that he was lucky to have them. Elan's conscience wouldn't allow her to send him on alone.