Portia murmured, "I should have remembered that archery was a skill for savages long before it became fashionable."

For some reason, that remark penetrated Maxie's calm as nothing else had. She swung her head toward her cousin with such a flash in her brown eyes that Portia involuntarily stepped backward. Voice dangerously soft, Maxie said, "You're quite right, it is a skill for savages. Move back out of the way."

As her cousins hastily retreated, Maxie scooped up a handful of arrows and stepped back until she was four times as far from the target. She shoved all but one of the arrows pointfirst into the earth near her right hand, then nocked the remaining shaft.

Drawing the bow, she focused not only on the act of aiming, but also on sensing what it was to be an arrow seeking a target. That had been the first and most important archery lesson that she had ever learned.

Then she released the shaft. An instant later, it buried itself in the exact center of the circle.

While the arrow still quivered in the target, she sent the next shaft on its way. In less than a minute, five arrows were clustered in the bull's eye so closely that several touched.

Nocking the final arrow, she turned in the direction of her cousins, who watched in paralyzed horror as Maxie let fly. The arrow neatly clipped the lime tree under which the sisters stood. Portia yelped as a severed branchlet fell into her hair, rendering it far less neat than it had been.

Stalking back to her cousins, Maxie returned the bow to Rosalind. To Portia she said, "Since I am a savage, as you are so fond of pointing out, I have a talent for mayhem and violence. You would do well to remember that."

Then Maxie turned on her heel and continued her interrupted path to the house, head high and expression set. It had been foolish to lose her temper with Portia, but there had undeniably been satisfaction in it