But the boy knew that this impression was faulty, that Logan Tom would stand and fight. You could see it in his eyes. You could tell from the way he moved and talked—steady, confident, determined. Driven. Simralin had told him a few things about the Knight, things she had somehow discovered while bringing him back to Arborlon after he had come upon her at the site of the hot-air balloon. It was a great deal more than what he suspected Logan Tom would normally have given up to someone little more than a stranger. Stories of how he had gotten to them, of how he had found and rescued the boy who was actually a Faerie creature, a gypsy morph who would save them all from the demons. It was scary stuff, but kind of reassuring, too. Because buried in the details was the unmistakable promise that safety for all of them was not just a dream.

“He’s awfully dark, isn’t he?” he said softly to his sister.

She followed his gaze over to Logan Tom. “He’s a lot of things,” she murmured.

“You think we can trust him?”

“I think maybe we can.” She smiled ruefully. “But I thought that about Tragen, too.”

“That was different.”

“This might be different, too.”

“He looks dangerous.”

“No more so than Angel.”

“Much more so, I think. The kind of dangerous that means he won’t let anything get in his way. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. But maybe he can do what he says he’s come to do.”

She nodded. “Maybe.”

She left him a few moments later and walked back over to Logan Tom. The Knight of the Word straightened and turned immediately, his entire demeanor changing. Something about his reaction to his sister reminded Kirisin of Tragen. But that was ridiculous. The two had just met, and besides, Tragen had been pretending. It was just the way men responded to Simralin.

Even so, he watched them for a moment, pondering the idea that men found his sister irresistible. He didn’t. Mostly, he found her smarter than he was. But she was his sister, after all. She was just Sim. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants and grasped the Elfstones between his fingers, impatient with the wait, looking for something to do. He was still looking when an Elven Hunter burst into the clearing and hurried over to Simralin. She listened for a moment, and then turned to look at her brother. Kirisin felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew at once what she’d been told. He didn’t wait for her to approach. He simply nodded.

It was time.