Kirisin nodded. “I guess I understand.”
“You make me remember what I was like at your age. I was a little older when I was given the magic, but I knew less about it than you do. I wasn’t raised in a culture where magic existed. I was bitter and angry about what had been done to me. All I wanted was revenge. Especially against that old man. He took everything from me. My family. My life. I haven’t forgiven or forgotten any of it. Every time I use the magic, I see his face. It’s not a good thing. I know this. Rationally, I can say I know it. But it doesn’t change how I feel. Even now.”
He took a deep breath. “But your sister . . .”
“Sim?” Kirisin prodded, when he failed to continue.
Logan Tom nodded. “When I look at her, I can see what I’ve given up by being a Knight of the Word. It seemed the right thing until now. But she made me realize that my whole life is going by, and I don’t have anything to show for it but the magic. And my promise to myself that I would hunt down and kill that demon.”
The boy stared. “You’re in love with her.”
It sounded so na?ve, so foolish, that he regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. But Logan Tom just shrugged. “I don’t know anything about being in love. I just know she made me question what I wanted out of life, and I haven’t done enough of that. I was burned out when I came to find the gypsy morph, but I thought it was just because I needed something new, a change from what I’d been doing.” He hesitated, as if considering what that something was. “Now I’m not so sure. I think it’s more complicated.”
“I think she likes you,” Kirisin said impulsively, wanting to do something to help. “In fact, I’m sure she does.”
Logan shook his head. “Maybe she ought to think twice about it.” He rose abruptly. “Well, I’ve said what I wanted to say. That’s enough about it. Time to be going.”
They climbed back into the AV and set out once more. Kirisin sat in silence, mulling over what Logan Tom had told him. He found that he believed almost all of it. He had known from the first moment he had used the blue Elfstones and felt the power of the magic surging through him that nothing was ever going to be the same for him again. Nor did he dispute that use of the magic was dangerous—not just in a physical way, but in an emotional way, as well. He understood what the other was saying about the ways in which using power could subvert you. He understood that he would always be at risk, that he would always need to be cautious. That was the price you paid. And while he hadn’t asked for that use, he had willingly embraced it. He had wanted to help the Ellcrys as a member of the Chosen, and had pledged on more than one occasion to do whatever was needed to see that she was protected.
So he couldn’t very well complain now about the consequences of having made that commitment. He couldn’t complain about not having fully understood what that meant.
On the other hand, he had somehow convinced himself that the commitment was only temporary; that once the Elves and their city were safely delivered to their destination and released back into the world, it would all be over. Things would go back to the way they had been with his life. He would continue as a Chosen in service to the tree until his time was up, and then he would enter the ranks of the Home Guard.
How na?ve, he realized.
Because it wouldn’t be so simple. What was he going to do with the Elfstones? Not just the Loden, the use of which might be ended for his lifetime, at least, but the blue Elfstones, the seeking-Stones. What did he think he was going to do about them? Give them up? To whom? Who could he trust to see that they were used in the right way? He could give them to the King, but Arissen Belloruus wasn’t the most dependable person with whom to entrust such a powerful magic.
Changed or not, he was still a volatile personality. And if not to the King of the Elves, then to whom?
He couldn’t give them to anyone.
Because Pancea Rolt Gotrin had given them to him and sworn him to the task of finding a way to convince the Elves that the magic that was their heritage must be recovered and put to use. In the rushed frenzy of everything that had happened since her shade had bestowed the blue Elfstones on him, he had forgotten his promise. But it recalled itself now in chilling detail, and he realized that nothing of this matter would ever be over for him. He had committed himself to a lifetime of service to a cause, an undertaking he must somehow resurrect from its thousand-year dormancy, that he must breathe fresh life into, that he must fully embrace.
If he did not . . .