But they kept coming anyway, and because there were so many the living finally surmounted the mounds of dead and reached the far side of the crater. There, within the shelter of the trees, they posed a flanking danger for the lines of Elven Hunters positioned farther down the slope, and so Arissen Belloruus was forced to pull back.

By now Kirisin and his companions were rushing up the slope toward the hot-air balloon, intent on getting away before the enemy got any closer. But even as they did so, they heard fresh shouts and cries from the trees to their right. The once-men had gone not just into the crater but around it, as well. In doing so, they had encountered the Trackers set to screen against any enemy approach, and the two forces were engaged in battle. Logan Tom, in the lead, called back to Kirisin and the others, urging them to hurry, to shift left, away from the fighting. Even as he did so, the boy saw movement in the trees ahead, shadowy forms scrambling to cut them off.

Simralin, trailing him by several steps, saw them, too. “Logan!” she called ahead, and at the sound of her voice the Knight of the Word immediately wheeled back.

In the next instant a small owl swooped down out of the trees, nearly colliding with Logan Tom, who flinched and then turned to watch the owl wheel away. Again, he started forward, and again the owl intercepted him, cutting him off.

He turned back this time and waited for the others to catch up before saying, “We have to change direction. The once-men are ahead of us. They must have begun encircling the city during the night. We can’t go forward. Take everyone left, Simralin, through those trees.”

He pointed to a towering stand of old growth that layered the earth beneath in shadows and climbed through an outcropping of rocks to the wall of the mountains.

“But the balloon is the other way!” Simralin insisted.

Logan shook his head, eyes shifting quickly, scanning the trees behind them. “We’ll have to leave it. They’ve probably found it. In any case, we can’t fill the air bag in time to make an escape. Do what I say.”

For just a second, Kirisin thought his sister was going to argue. She didn’t take orders easily. But Logan Tom was a Knight of the Word, and perhaps that proved the difference.

“Let’s go, little K,” she called to him.

They charged ahead once more. Behind them, Logan Tom was hanging back, protecting their rear. A scattering of figures burst from the trees. Elves. Trackers. Kirisin recognized Praxia and Ruslan. Then Que’rue and several more he knew appeared, as well.