The Gypsy Morph

He turned quickly, bringing up his staff. A young woman had emerged from the trees behind him. Mist wrapped her legs and spread away before her in a heavy carpet, giving her the appearance of having somehow been formed of it. He hadn’t heard her approach, hadn’t heard her at all. That didn’t happen often. She was tall and lithe with long blond hair tied back from her face with a headband. Her loose clothing blended perfectly with her surroundings, and the way she carried herself suggested that this was her country.

“Who are you?” she repeated.

When she spoke this time, he could see her perfectly, her features revealed by pale silver light that striped her body from head to foot and gave her an exotic, alien look. He felt something shift inside. The shift was small, but intense. He could not define what it was, but he knew instinctively what it meant. Nothing would ever be the same for him again.

He tightened his grip on the black staff out of a sudden need for reassurance. “I’m Logan Tom.”

She inclined her head, a cross between a greeting and an acknowledgment. “Are you friends with Angel Perez?”

He started to answer, to tell her he didn’t know anyone named Angel Perez, and then suddenly he noticed her ears, slightly pointed at the tips, and her eyebrows, which were slanted upward across her forehead. He stared at her just long enough that there was no mistaking what he was looking at.

He flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s just that . . .” He trailed off. “You’re an Elf, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Did Angel tell you about us?”

“I don’t know Angel. I was sent by the Lady to find you. To find the Elves, I mean.”

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.

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