He wakes on hearing his name spoken, but when he rises he cannot find the speaker. The night is deep and still, the darkness complete. There is no moon. The stars seem diminished and faint; they seem much farther away than they should, tiny and unreachable. He feels isolated by their distance, a feeling he cannot trace the source of. His lack of understanding disappears when he realizes that he is alone. The Ghosts are gone. The AV and the hay wagon are gone. The camp and its meager supplies are all gone.
He looks around, taking in his surroundings. He is on a barren plain, a flatland stripped of anything even remotely suggesting life. No trees, scrub, brush, animals, insects, or birds. No sounds. No movement. Dirt and rocks and the vast, broad ocean of the night sky—that’s all there is. Nothing looks familiar. This is not where he went to sleep. Somehow he has awakened in a different place. He does not think he has come to this place of his own accord. He has been brought here, and his companions have allowed it to happen. He does not like to think that he has been abandoned, but he feels as if he has.
“Logan Tom.”
This time there is no mistake. The voice is high and sweet and clear, and he recognizes it at once. It is the Lady who speaks. He stands where he is, unmoving, searching for her in the dark. It seems impossible that she is there; he can see for miles and miles in all directions, the land flat and bare and empty, and there is no one. Nevertheless, he knows she will appear. She always does. He must be patient until she shows herself, allowing her space and time to do so.
The seconds tick away. She does not come. She does not speak. He is still alone, and he grows anxious.
Then all at once she appears right in front of him, a vision of white in the darkness. She hovers in the air, her feet not touching the earth, her gown trailing out behind her like white smoke. Her face radiates peace and comfort, and it brings him instantly to tears. He tries to move closer to her, but he cannot make his legs obey.
“Lady,” he whispers.
“You are needed elsewhere, Logan Tom,” she responds softly. “Your skills and talent and experience are required by others. Even though you are responsible for the safety of the gypsy morph, you must leave him now and travel south to the city of the Elves.”
Elves, he thinks in disbelief. She said, Elves.
“They are threatened by the one you seek, the one promised to you if you complete your charge. Demons and once-men close in on them, and if you do not reach them in time, they will disappear from the earth. The future we seek to preserve will not come to pass.”
He says nothing, taking it all in and thinking how crazy it sounds.
Elves.
“Another Knight of the Word has helped secure a talisman for the Elves, but she is injured and cannot aid them further. So it is given to you to go in her place. The talisman must be put to use and those who use it protected and guided to where the boy who will lead you all will be waiting to take you to the safehold. To the old man of whom the boy has spoken. To the King of the Silver River.”
Logan has no idea what talisman she is talking about. But he knows there is no point in asking for explanations. “How am I to find the Elves?” he asks instead.
“Trim will guide you.” Her slender arm lifts and points into the distance. “Go south. He will meet you on the road. Go afoot. Go alone.”
“Trim?” he repeats.
“He is small but very durable. Trust in him to lead you.”
He wants to know more. “Who am I looking for among the Elves? Is it someone in particular? Who possesses this talisman?”
Her smile dazzles him. “You will know when you have found who you are looking for. You will know it in your heart.”
Another enigmatic answer, but one that she seems to feel says everything. He shakes his head. “What of these children I am leaving? Who will protect them?”
“As before, Logan Tom, they will protect themselves.”
She is shimmering now, a sign that she is getting ready to leave him. He wants to hold her back, to preserve the feeling of comfort and peace he always finds in her presence. But he knows he can do nothing to stay her, that he has no hold on her. He watches her begin to fade.
“Brave Knight,” she whispers to him.
He cannot speak. Then she is gone, and he is alone again, emptied out inside, bereft of something important. He clenches his fists and teeth and by doing so manages to keep himself from crying out his dismay.
THE SUN HAD BARELY RISEN, its golden orb hazy behind a screen of pollution and dust at the crest of the mountains east. Owl stared into the murky film and thought about what lay ahead. “Are you certain about this?” she asked him again.
Logan nodded. He was packing food and water into a backpack, enough for a week if he was careful with his usage. He knew how to provision for a trek like this, even if he hadn’t been on one for more than a year. He thought he was fit enough, though, and ready.
“But why would you be sent to us and then asked to leave before doing what you came to do? Especially if Hawk is so important to everything. I don’t understand it.”