Then he was holding Simralin by the shoulders, a gesture so familiar and protective that Kirisin gasped. “Remember the plan, Simralin. Bring the King and rest of the Elves to Redonnelin Deep, down by the bridge. Everyone who’s left, bring them there. We’ll be waiting.”
Simralin reached up suddenly and touched his cheek. Then she was calling to Praxia, Ruslan, and Que’rue to climb into the vehicle with Kirisin. A pair of Elven Hunters joined them. Kirisin sat frozen in place a moment longer, and then he was out of the AV and running to his sister.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, seizing her arm. “You have to come with us!”
“I can’t do that, Little K.”
“What are you talking about? We have to stay together!”
“Not this time. Arissen Belloruus is risking a great deal for you. I have to stay to help him.” She reached down and removed his hand from her arm. Then she embraced him. “I love you, Kirisin. Now go!”
She shoved him away. “Keep my little brother safe!” she shouted over to Praxia and the others.
“But, Sim—”
“Go, I said!” she snapped, turning away.
“Wait!” he cried. Impulsively, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the blue Elfstones. “Take these.” He thrust them into her hand. “That way you’ll be sure to find me.”
“I can’t do that!” She tried to give them back. “They belong to you! They were given to you!”
“Well, now I’m giving them to you!” His hand closed over hers. “You can give them back when you find me again.”
“Kirisin, no!”
He was already moving away. “That’s how it is, Sim. You stay, the Elfstones stay with you.”
She started to say something more, then decided against it. She gave him a final look, a quick wave of her hand, and turned away, moving off into the trees where the bulk of the Elven Hunters were just appearing. She didn’t look back.
Kirisin rushed to the AV and climbed inside, still not quite believing he was going without Sim. Logan Tom scrambled in after him, closed his door, threw the locks, and started the engine. Kirisin shivered, not quite certain why. The Knight of the Word looked over at him, dark face set, unreadable. His gaze shifted almost immediately to the Elves in the back and then ahead to the road leading out.
“Hold on,” he said softly, and threw the levers on the dash all the way forward.
THIRTEEN
T HE VENTRA 5000 lurched ahead through the trees at breakneck speed, bouncing wildly over ruts and holes, hummocks and fallen branches, its broad frame shaking and groaning, its big engine whining in protest. Trees whizzed past the vehicle occupants in a blur of dark vertical shadows, and the rising sun burned through the canopy of the forest in fiery flashes. Kirisin was gripping the armrests in preparation for an inevitable collision with something, but Logan Tom seemed to know what he was doing, even when there was every reason to doubt it. His dark face was angry and set as he drove, his eyes fixed on the road, his hands moving over the control levers and wheel with quick, sure movements.
“First time in one of these?” he asked the boy.
He never looked over, never changed expression, never showed the slightest interest in Kirisin’s answer. He just asked the question and kept driving.
“Last time,” the boy answered finally.
He gave the Knight of the Word a quick glance. Logan Tom was stone-faced. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
They struck a deep hole that caused the AV to pitch forward, jump up sharply, grind as if metal was tearing loose, and then gain fresh purchase and rumble on. The straps securing Kirisin had been wrenched loose, and he tightened them at once. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and found Praxia staring at him from out of the Elves clustered in the rear seats. The young woman’s face was pale, her lips set in a tight line, her hands clenched in fists. But she gave him a wry smile.
“Scared, Little K?” she asked.
He shook his head and looked away again. He didn’t like Praxia, mostly because Sim didn’t like her, and he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of hearing him admit to something like that. Even if it meant lying. Besides, she looked more scared than he did. They all did. None of them had ridden in one of these machines before. Probably none of them ever would again.
Kirisin hunkered down in his seat, riding out both the rough passage and his growing fears. He wanted to look out at the forest to see if he could detect any pursuit, but he was afraid doing so would make him sick. Already his stomach felt more than a little queasy. He settled for keeping his eyes fixed on the rutted road they were careening down, willing the AV to stay centered and not go crashing off into the forest and overturning. Let Logan Tom worry about any pursuit.