He felt the spidery touch of a slender branch brush against his slumped shoulders.
— My beloved-He almost cried, so grateful was he, so relieved. “I have done what you asked of me,” he whispered aloud.
— Use the magic of the Loden and place me within, still rooted in my earth. Use the magic to place the Elves and their city within, as well. All of us belong within your safekeeping. Take us to where we will be made safe from what is to happen. You will know where that is and how you are to go. Others will show you the way. Others will go with you and protect you-
“But I don’t know how …,” he started, then stopped instantly as he felt the tip of the branch move to his neck.
— The path lies before you. The journey is set. You are my Chosen.
You are my beloved. You will know. You need no instruction or help to find your way. You need only your courage and your determination. Do you believe me-
“Yes,” he said at once. “I believe you.”
— Then do what you must, Kirisin Belloruus. Do what I have given you to do-He might have said more. He might have asked her more. He might have tried to discover the answers to questions that remained unanswered. But her limbs withdrew, and she was gone. He knelt before her, staring up into her branches, searching for movement, for recognition, for something further. But nothing revealed itself. She had said all she would.
He rose after a moment, waited a moment longer, still hoping, and then took a deep breath, turned, and walked away.
LOGAN tom walked next to Simralin Belloruus, head lowered in thought. She had just finished telling him everything that had happened to the Elves over the past few weeks leading up to the moment of his arrival, and he was trying to digest it. Trying to make it seem real might be a better way of putting it. He had seen and heard of some strange things in his time as a Knight of the Word, but never anything like this. That an entire city and its people could be saved from demons and once–men by being placed inside a gemstone was almost too much to accept.
Almost.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked him, apparently able to read his mind.
She didn’t sound angry or disappointed. She sounded mostly curious to hear how he would respond.
She looked over at him, and for what must have been the fiftieth time in the past hour he found himself wishing she would never look away.
“I believe you,” he said. “I would believe you if your story sounded three times this crazy.”
He had never been in love. He had not known what it would feel like. He understood what the term meant, but his life had not allowed for exploring its possibilities. There had been few he had really loved. His parents; Michael. That was it. And that was love of a different kind. Less intense, less hungry. What he felt for Simralin went so far beyond anything manageable that it shocked him. He could tell himself it was because he found her beautiful in a way that transcended anything he had ever known. But his attraction to her was a response to so much more. To her self–confidence and her way of speaking. To her smile and the quirky way she lifted one eyebrow when she was amused. To the way she carried herself. To the way she looked at him.
Feeling like this, being suddenly, impulsively in love, was so ridiculous and so reckless and wrongheaded that he could hardly come to grips with it. There was no space in his life for this. There was no time for it. He was engaged in the most important struggle of his life, entrusted with carrying out a mission that would ensure the survival of an entire nation—a race of people he hadn’t even believed existed before he found them. He needed to be cool and detached from everything but the responsibility he had been given. Yet here he was, imagining what it would be like if this woman were to love him back.
“Your brother,” he said, needing to break the silence between them. “So much depends on him. Is he up to that sort of pressure?”
She was looking away now, off into the trees. “Little K is a lot stronger than people give him credit for. He’s tough and he’s smart. He saved my life in the ice caves on Syrring Rise. He saved Angel’s life, too. Someone else–maybe almost anyone else–would have collapsed under the weight of the responsibility he was given. Fleeing his home and his city and his people when he had never been away for more than a few days and then just a short distance, using the Elfstones when he didn’t know what that would do to him, that took courage. I can’t even imagine what standing up to Culph and then to Tragen required.”
Logan nodded. “It might get worse.”
“It will get worse. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
He smiled despite himself. “Kirisin was doing pretty well with you as his protector. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to replace you.”
She gave him a look. “Does what I think worry you?”
He shrugged.
“You don’t seem like someone who cares what others think,” she pressed, making it sound like she was very sure. “You seem pretty self–sufficient.”
“That’s how it is with Knights of the Word. They work alone. They live alone.” He paused. “Worrying about what others think can get you killed.”
She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, “Tell me something about yourself.”
He looked over at her. “Tell you something?”
She nodded. “I told you everything about what happened to me. Tell me about what’s happened to you. About what you’ve been doing that brought you here.”
He was surprised at how eager he was to do so. He started at the very beginning, with his meeting with Two Bears, and then carried forward to his last visit from the Lady. He skipped some of it, the things that she didn’t need to know, the details of his battles, of his private struggles. He kept it simple and straightforward, telling her of the Ghosts and the gypsy morph and what was going to happen. She listened without interrupting him, watching his face, the look so intense he could feel its heat.
When he was finished, she gave him a smile. “If you weren’t standing here, if someone else told me this story, I would think it was just a story and nothing more.”
He smiled back. “I would think the same. If I hadn’t lived it.”
“Do you know where we’re supposed to go, even if Kirisin isn’t sure? Do you know where we will find this boy and all the other children? Angel’s children?”
He thought about it a moment. He didn’t know exactly, but somehow he thought he could find it anyway. Maybe Trim would know the way. But Trim had disappeared. There hadn’t been a sign of him since Logan had first encountered Simralin.
“I can get us to where we need to go. Then it’s up to the boy Hawk.”
Ahead, cottages appeared through the trees. The sun had risen behind them, a hazy orb hanging low in the east, still screened by the forest, its light diffuse and silvery. The predawn silence had given way to a steady rise of birdsong. From somewhere not too far ahead, a dog barked and voices could be heard.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” she said. “Arissen Belloruus will need to hear what brought you to us. But he will be happy you’ve come.”
They passed through the trees and found a pathway leading to the cluster of houses. The scent of flowers filled the morning air. Logan breathed it in.
“I’m happy you’ve come, too,” Simralin said suddenly.
She said it in a bold, challenging way, as if speaking the words cemented something between them that she understood better than he did. He looked over at her, but she was already striding ahead of him.
“This way,” she called back.
He had an odd thought at that moment, one he hadn’t had since Michael’s death. He would follow her anywhere.
TWELVE