She shook her head. “The Lady?”
“The voice of the Word.”
“I know of the Word. Of her Knights. Angel was one. She came to us earlier. To help us. Is that why you were sent?”
“That’s pretty much it. I was told there was a talisman you must use and that after you had done so, I was to guide you to where you were supposed to go.” He paused. “I was told that Angel was hurt, and I needed to take her place.”
“She was hurt keeping us safe, protecting us from demons that tracked us to where we found the talisman.”
They stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Then Logan shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t stop looking at you. I didn’t know there were Elves before I was told to come here. Even after I was told, I didn’t believe it. Maybe I still don’t.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “I think maybe you do. Now. At any rate, we need you to believe if you are to help us.”
“I know that. I think what’s bothering me is that I didn’t know what to expect. I was looking for … something else.”
“And you found me.”
He nodded. “I guess that’s it.”
“No one is supposed to know about us, Logan. No one is supposed to believe we exist. That’s how we stay safe.”
“But now the demons know, don’t they? They’ve found you?”
She nodded.
“Are they here?”
She walked over and stood before him, so close she could have reached out and touched him if she had chosen to do so. She was too close, Logan thought. He stared at her. He had never met anyone like her, seen anyone like her, imagined anyone could make him feel like this. He didn’t care that she was an Elf. He didn’t care what she was. He barely knew her, and already he was thinking about things that he had never thought about anyone.
You will know who you are looking for, the Lady had told him when he asked, because your heart will tell you. He hadn’t understood until now what that meant.
He stared at her, and she stared right back at him. The connection was so strong it was palpable. He was suddenly confused and embarrassed. She shouldn’t have been able to tell what he was thinking, but she smiled as if she could.
“I’m Simralin Belloruus,” she said, taking his arm. “Walk back with me. It might take me a while, but I’ll explain everything.”
In THE COOL OF the PREDAWN, Kirisin walked from his sleeping quarters to the gardens that housed the Ellcrys. Ostensibly, he went alone, having been awakened by his sister before she left to assemble and make ready the hot–air balloon that would spirit them away after he had used the Loden. But he knew that in the shadows were Elven Hunters chosen by her to make certain he stayed safe. He didn’t see them, but he knew they were there. Sim wouldn’t have had it otherwise.
The path he followed was familiar, a path he had traveled hundreds of times in the company of the other Chosen on their way to offer morning greetings to the tree they were all sworn to protect. Biat, his best friend, Raya, Giln, and Jam–how many times they had walked it. Erisha, as well, although it was hard to think about her now. He would have gone to the others last night and told them everything that had happened since his flight from the city. He would have assured them that he had not killed Erisha, that he had tried to save her, that he would try to save them. He would have told them everything. He would have stayed with them and slept in his old bed. But Simralin said no. It wasn’t a good idea. No one must be told what was going to happen. The danger of panic was too great. She didn’t even mention the possibility of word slipping out and reaching the demonkind if too many people found out what was planned. But he understood it anyway. Any reunions or explanations would have to wait until this was over.
So in a small act of rebellion, he had chosen to take this more circuitous route from the sleeping quarters she had selected for him. At least he could walk the path he had shared with his friends. They would be sleeping and would not wake before he had done so, and his visit to the Ellcrys would be finished by the time they rose. Not long after that, they would be enclosed in the Loden and explanations and reunions wouldn’t matter.
He thought about the consequences of his actions for a moment. So much could go wrong, and almost all of it had to do with him. If he faltered, if he misjudged, if he rushed or hesitated at the wrong moment, he would fail. If he failed, everything would be lost.
In the moments before rising, lying silently in his bed, just coming awake, he had considered the possibility of keeping another of the Chosen out with him, a safeguard against his death before the city and its people could be restored. Biat, perhaps. Steady, reliable, the perfect choice. But did he have the right to ask such a thing? The burden, after all, had been given to him. Whoever stayed behind with him would share that burden, no matter how hard he tried to argue otherwise. Biat or another of the Chosen would stand at his shoulder and by doing so face the same dangers he did.
It was Simralin who had put it in perspective when asked her opinion earlier this morning. She was crouched next to him in the darkness, dressed and ready, her weapons strapped about her waist and over her shoulders, preparing to leave.
“You could do that, Little K. But if the demons manage to harm you, even to get close enough to do so, everyone around you, myself included, will already be dead. The presence of another Chosen wouldn’t make a difference.”
“But what if I am killed accidentally, even though you have expended your best efforts to keep that from happening?”
“What if you lose the Loden?” she replied. “What if you break it? What if it gets stolen? You can speculate all you want, Little K.” She paused. “Why don’t you just ask the Ellcrys what she wishes you to do?”
Ask the Ellcrys. Yes, he had thought afterward, that was what he would do.
So now he was on his way to speak to her. Or, more to the point, on his way to the gardens so that she could speak to him. But his uncertainties had not faded as he had hoped. Instead, they had intensified. He was awash in doubts. Not about the wisdom of keeping out another Chosen to aid him, but about his own abilities. He was being asked to do so much. Without skills, experience, or even much in the way of wisdom, he was being given a responsibility no one should have to bear. How was he to carry it out? How did he invoke the Loden’s power? What was needed to persuade it to enclose the Elves and their city along with the Ellcrys? How would he know afterward where he was to go and what he was to do once he got there? Thinking about it, about all of it, was so overwhelming that he almost turned back from his meeting. Someone else should be doing this, he kept thinking. He was not the right choice.
When he reached the gardens, he stood at their edge for several moments, looking at the tree and gathering his courage. He wasn’t sure what he would hear or even that he wanted to hear it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go any farther.
In the end, he did, of course. He stepped out into the starlit brightness of the clearing, out from the trees into the open, flinching as the light fell across his face and revealed him. As if, somehow, she could see that he was there. He came forward slowly, drinking in her impossible beauty, discovering anew aspects he had forgotten. He stood before her, just out of reach, staring into her scarlet canopy, blinking at the reflection of light from her silver limbs, awestruck in her presence.
She chose me, he thought suddenly. She could have chosen someone else, but she chose me. To his surprise, the words comforted him.
He walked into the dark pool of her shadow and dropped to his knees, head lowered, eyes closed, motionless and silent, waiting.
Waiting.
What if she does not speak to me?