The Gypsy Morph

Angel would have liked to keep everyone much closer together. Spread out as they were, they were impossible to protect. But she had realized early on that this was the best she could hope for. Any organization beyond what she was seeing was all but impossible. Too many children, too few adults, too little discipline. They were doing the best they could, and that would have to suffice. By nightfall, they would be back together, and by morning they would regroup to begin the march anew. In the meantime, she would just have to hope that an enemy force didn’t catch them out in the open.

She glanced over at Kirisin, walking next to her, and felt her throat constrict. His face was so sad it made her heart break. She wished there were something she could do for him, something she could say. But she knew there wasn’t. He would have to get through this on his own.

He caught her looking at him and gave her a quick smile. “I’m all right,” he assured her. “Really, I am.”

She nodded, said nothing. She glanced ahead to where Hawk was leading, moving at a steady pace, looking fit and ready. Cheney slouched at his side, shaggy and insolent, big head swaying as he walked, a mass of bristling hair and muscle. She didn’t like the dog. She didn’t trust him. But he seemed to belong with the Ghosts, as independent-minded and cocksure as they were. They seemed of a piece, and she was not the one who could pass judgment on that arrangement.

Kirisin, who up until now had barely spoken two words, suddenly said, “Do you think she might have gotten away if she hadn’t been protecting the Loden?”

She shook her head. “No, Kirisin. Even without the Elfstone she wouldn’t have escaped. Responsibility for the Elfstone wouldn’t have slowed her down or changed her approach. Praxia was tough and smart, and she did the best she could. It just wasn’t enough.”

“But having responsibility for the Loden might have altered the way she was doing things.” He glanced quickly at her. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t think like this.”

Angel sighed. Then stop doing so. But she didn’t say it, even though a part of her wanted to. She understood why he would be so insecure about Praxia. The boy had seen a lot of people die who had tried to help him, and the accumulation alone would breed substantial guilt. He was still very young, she reminded herself, and he wasn’t all that well equipped to deal with any of this.

“She told you she envied you for what you were doing, didn’t she?” she asked gently. “She said she wished it could have been her. Well, in a way, she got her wish. She died knowing that she had done something that mattered. You have to let her have that, Kirisin, and not diminish her sacrifice by questioning whether you could have done something to avoid it.”

She looked off into the distance, measuring the stretch that lay immediately ahead, wondering if they could cross it before sunset. “None of us could have changed what happened without knowing of it ahead of time. And even then . . .”

She trailed off, glanced over at him, waited. He mulled it over for a minute, then nodded. “I know it’s so. But I can’t help wondering anyway.” He was silent a moment. “I guess I think about Praxia because I’m worried about Simralin.”

This is what’s really troubling him, she thought. His sister. She imagined that the boy had been thinking of little else ever since they had separated in the Cintra. That was almost a week ago now, and there had been no word of her. No word of any of the Elves who had remained behind with their King to slow the demon advance. It was hard not to think the worst.

“Simralin is experienced in staying alive,” she said to him. “You said yourself that she is the best at what she does. I think she’ll be all right. Maybe it’s just taken longer to break off the fight than expected. Maybe they’ve just come a different way. A longer way, one that keeps them safer. There could be a lot of reasons why she isn’t here yet, Kirisin.”

“I just don’t like it that we left her,” he persisted. “I should have stayed with her.”

“I know that’s how you feel, but that would have been foolish. She stayed behind so that you could escape safely. Besides, you gave her the blue Elfstones. If she was in real danger, she could have used them.”

“Maybe.” He wasn’t convinced. He scuffed at the dusty earth with the toe of his boot. “If she could figure out how to use them.”

“She watched you, didn’t she? I did, too. We both saw how it was done, what was required. We talked about it. I think she would find a way if it was needed.”

She watched him lift a hand to his chest and finger the bulk of the Loden through the fabric of his tunic. “I wish this was over. I wish we were there, wherever there is.” He looked at her. “Does Hawk have any idea how far we are going?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. If he does, he isn’t saying. He just seems to be following his nose. His instincts are telling him where he is supposed to take us. The girl, Tessa, says that’s how it works. She insists that’s enough.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if anyone much believes that, but it’s all we’ve got to work with.”

Terry Brooks's books