“I suppose.”
Kirisin leaned back in his seat. He was wondering how much Sim had told Logan Tom about what had happened to them on Syrring Rise. A lot, it seemed. For some reason, that made him uncomfortable. Why would she tell him so much? She barely knew him.
He was aware suddenly that the other was looking at him. He shrugged. “Using the magic makes me feel like something is coming alive inside me, something that generates heat and light, but something else, too. It’s hard to explain. It consumed me when it surfaced. It filled me up.” He shook his head at the memory, then added softly. “It took me over.”
The Knight of the Word nodded. “It’s the same with me. Tell me some more.”
To his surprise, Kirisin did, happy all at once to be talking about it, to be sharing what he knew. Logan Tom already knew so much that telling him this probably didn’t matter. Besides, he hadn’t talked about it with anyone else who understood magic, and while he would not have believed earlier that he would ever talk about it so freely, he found it easy to do so. That they shared a common experience and responsibility where magic was concerned certainly helped. Angel had never wanted to talk about herself, only about him. For all his brooding and intensity, Logan Tom seemed less constrained.
They were in the middle of exchanging thoughts on the matter when the Ventra’s engine suddenly died and the AV slowed to a stop.
“What’s happened?” Praxia wanted to know at once, leaning forward from the backseat.
Logan shook his head, released his seat belt, and climbed out of the cab. He moved to the front of the AV, opened a metal covering, and leaned in for a look at the engine. Kirisin got out, as well, and walked around to stand next to him. Logan was peering at a cluster of tiny dials protected by thick pieces of round glass recessed into narrow metal cylinders.
“The connectors have failed,” he said quietly. “The solar cells are dead. There’s no power.” He walked to the rear of the vehicle, with Kirisin following, and opened a storage compartment where several more of the cylinders were resting in slots obviously constructed to hold them. “These, too. All dead.”
He straightened and looked at the boy. “I’ll have to find out what’s gone wrong or we’ll have to walk. A long way. Back to where you traveled before, the Columbia River, what you call Redonnelin Deep.” He glanced back the way they had come. “Too risky. They’ll be coming. Skrails. Perhaps some others.”
His dark face studied the horizon for a moment longer; then he ordered everyone out of the AV and began pulling open metal plates covering machine compartments and nests of wire. Kirisin watched him for a time, and then he walked over and sat down on a log by the roadside. Maybe he should have asked about skrails. But maybe he was better off if he didn’t.
Seconds later Praxia appeared and sat down beside him. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared off into the distance, her dark features expressionless. Finally she looked over. “Why do you think the Ellcrys chose you?”
Kirisin shook his head, not looking at her. “I really don’t know. I guess because I was there.”
“So were the others. She didn’t choose one of them.”
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to tell her about Erisha. That was private, not something she needed to know. “I can’t explain.” “You must have been surprised when it happened.” She was still looking at him, her eyes locked on his face. “What did you think? Did you think you were losing your mind?”
“No, I didn’t think that.”
“What did you think, then?”
“Why do you want to know, Praxia?” He looked at her now, growing suddenly irritated. “Why should I tell you?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then she said, “I wish it could have been me. I wish she would have asked me. I know she wouldn’t; I’m not even a Chosen. But I wish it anyway.”
He stared at her in surprise. “Why?”
“Because what you did back there, that was the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. That was . . . I don’t have the words for it. How the magic came to life. How it gathered in our city and all our people, scooped them up like toys and drew them inside. Like a mother with an unborn baby, keeping it safe and alive inside her body.” She shook her head, her eyes filled with wonder. “I wish I could have done that. I would give anything.”
The way she said it made him look at her with new eyes. She wasn’t teasing or making fun. She meant what she was saying. Even if he didn’t like her all that well, her words moved him.
“I know this might seem like an odd thing to say,” she continued, looking away now, “but even though your sister and I don’t always see things the same way, I’ve always admired her. She’s what everyone says she is. The best at what we do as Trackers.”