The Bichura are tiny spirits of humanlike form, spun of the residue that magic leaves behind — feeble, mischievous creatures, timid and harmless enough taken one at a time, and not unlike the pixies and sprites of Frankish nursery tales. One such Bichura made an attempt upon Sidra's purse and was gone before any hand could close on it; when Sidra offered a piece of baklava from her palm and then set it upon the boards, the pastry rose of its own accord and drifted away to the north. Another flung a rock that caught Merrow full upon the head, and one contrived a shower of makeshift missiles that whistled past the company, a stone from among them striking Jean-Zera in the back of the head. A hunter's trap was found nearby, laid for the Bichura to no purpose — the little spirits proving too slight of weight to spring it.