At last, seeing it could not stop the AV, the Lizard stepped aside. As Logan rolled past, it slammed its huge fists against the hood, a futile, ineffective expression of rage. It stood looking after the Ventra as Logan drove it away. Then it covered its face with its hands and began to cry.

NINE

THE NIGHT WAS DEEP AND STILL, its darkness a layer of cottony impenetrability that cocooned Kirisin and Simralin as they crept through the trees toward the sleeping city of Arborlon. They moved like cats, their footsteps soundless, their presence invisible. No talking was allowed, Simralin had instructed before they set out. No communication of any sort if it could be helped. She would lead, and Kirisin would follow. What she did, he was to do. If they were lucky, they would not be detected. They had left the balloon behind, its bag deflated and tucked away with all stays and equipment stowed for ready access and a quick escape. The time for such an escape would come, and speed and efficiency at preparing the balloon for another liftoff might be the difference between life and death. If the demons were waiting for the Elves and their city to be encapsulated within the Loden, they would be quick to act the moment it was done.

Kirisin imagined all those points of light, each representing a demon or its creature, converging on him. The image made him shiver.

They had landed the balloon above the sleeping city, choosing a meadow just beyond the tree line and below the bare rock of the upper slopes. It was a considerable distance from where they had to go, but there was no safe or suitable landing sites closer. Whatever else happened, they could not risk damaging their only means of escape.

“Remember, Little K,” his sister had said to him as they prepared to set out. “Follow in my footsteps and stay close. I will keep us safe.”

He trusted her to do so. Hadn’t she done so on their journey to Syrring Rise? Hadn’t she always done so when danger threatened? And when it came to a Tracker’s skills, hers were the best. Larkin Quill had told him on that very first night on Redonnelin Deep that he had watched her pass right through the center of a large camping expedition of humans, and not one of them had caught even a glimpse of her. Anyone who could do that was something special, he’d said.