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But not forgotten. At some point, he would remember.

He sat quiet and unmoving for a long time, coming back to himself in bits and pieces. The dream had disturbed him in a way that transcended his memory of the images or even the words. It was the feel of it, the way it pressed down on him like an oppressive weight. It was also in his recognition that it meant something that he could not decipher.

What had prompted the dream?

Simralin woke. Her eyes blinked at him, and she smiled. “Time to set out again, Little K. Are you ready?”

He smiled back, cold inside. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They drew out the air bag and refastened its lines to the basket. Then Simralin engaged the blower and began filling the bag anew. As she did so, she glanced over to where her brother sat staring into space. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Well, maybe nothing. I dozed off and had a dream of sorts. About the Ashenell and Erisha and Culph. It was disturbing. Still is, thinking about it.”

“Well, try not to think about it, then. Dreams have a way of mirroring our doubts and fears. They suggest things that might be true, but usually aren’t.” She waited a moment for his response. When he failed to give it, she said, “Want something to eat?”

Leaving him to direct hot air from the blower nozzle into the slowly inflating bag, she reached into their supplies and pulled out some bread and cheese. Together they ate their meal and marked time. Kirisin tried hard not to think of the dream and ended up thinking about it all the more. Telling him not to think about something was tantamount to ensuring that he did. He didn’t blame Sim, though. She was just trying to be helpful.

Once they were airborne, he was able to shift his attention to the sweep of the countryside below, from the high desert to the mountain peaks, whiling away time searching out their route. The sun had moved farther to the west and south, and daylight was fading fast. The loss of light cast the shadow of the mountains far out across the high desert, layering it in dark, uneven stains. The moon was rising on the eastern horizon, a white crescent against the blackening sky. Kirisin gazed out over the landscape for a long time, saying nothing.

“Don’t worry, Little K,” his sister said suddenly, giving the air bag a fresh burst of heat from the blower. “We won’t get lost. The moon and stars will guide us, and I know this part of the country well enough to stay clear of trouble.”

“Will we reach Arborlon tonight?” he asked.

She nodded. “Early tomorrow morning, while it is still dark. Then we will have to decide where to land and what to do after that.”

Kirisin looked away. He had no plan to offer. It seemed that their only chance was to change minds already made up against them, and he had no idea of how to do that. For a long moment, he considered a radical approach. Upon reaching the Elven home city, he could put the magic of the Loden to use without telling anyone what he was doing. Just trap the Elves and their city and the Ellcrys inside and take them away to where they needed to go to be safe. But in doing so, he would be condemning an entire city and its population to indefinite imprisonment without giving a single one of them a chance to walk away. He would be using the magic of the Loden in an arrogant and cowardly manner. If his efforts to save them failed, he would have killed them all with his precipitous decision. No, he would need to tell them first, would need to seek the support of the King and the High Council. No matter where that led.

They flew on through the twilight into night, the darkness deepening steadily, the stars and crescent moon brightening overhead. Kirisin’s thoughts drifted and the hours slipped away. He was conscious of their general progress, but did not have enough flying experience to be able to judge how far they had come. After a long time, Simralin turned them into the mountains, tacking back and forth along the wind riffs between the peaks, angling the balloon through gaps and up and down valleys and defiles. At times, they were so close to cliff faces that the boy was certain they were going to collide. But Simralin kept them clear, always steering them away just when it seemed she might not be able to, staying on course.

Finally, they were deep in the mountains on the western side, the forests of the Cintra a dark spiky carpet below. The silver ribbons and bright splashes of the rivers and lakes caught the moonlight and reflected it back from out of black folds. The air was cool and sweet, free on this night, at least, of the smell of the poisons and rot that infected so much of the earth below.

“That’s Arborlon ahead,” Simralin called over to him, pointing.

He peered downward and caught sight of the flicker of tiny lights. They seemed a long way off still, but already he was feeling a sense of dread seep through him.

“What do we do?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “I can’t tell what’s down there in the darkness. If there are demons present, they could be anywhere. All I can think to do is land high enough up on the mountainside that they won’t notice us coming down. The backdrop of the peaks will hide our descent.”

Kirisin peered groundside some more, the balloon slowly descending toward the upper slopes. If they just had some way of making sure what was down there …

“Wait, Simralin!” he called out sharply.

He was so excited that he grabbed her arm to make sure he had her attention. She turned at once, and he could feel her body tense in expectation of trouble, her face ribbed with worry lines beneath the bandages. “No, it’s all right,” he said hastily. “I’ve got an idea. What if I use the Elfstones to find out if demons are hiding in the forests! Wouldn’t the Stones tell us where they are? Wouldn’t that give us a better idea of where to land?”

She studied him a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking since that last night on Syrring Rise what using the Elfstones means. Remember how we wondered how Culph and that four–legged monster managed to track us? How did they know where we were going? Even we didn’t know until we used the Elfstones. Yet they were always right behind us. At the end, they even managed to get ahead. I’m guessing, but I think it’s possible they had the ability to detect any use of magic. I think that’s how they knew where to find us, and I’m worried that the same thing might happen here.”

Kirisin hadn’t thought of that. If the demons could sense his use of the Elfstones, they would be quick enough to pick up on where he was. It was a possibility he couldn’t ignore. On the other hand, it was his best chance of finding out if they were down there waiting.

“What should I do, Sim?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Take a chance, I guess. Go ahead. Use the Elfstones. But be quick about it. Even if it alerts them to our presence, we’re moving and they might not be able to figure out exactly where we are. We just don’t want to give them any better chance than we have to.”

He nodded his understanding, wondering at the same time what that meant in practical terms. How long was too long? How closely could he afford to look at what was down there before he gave them away completely? There was no way of knowing, of course. He would just have to do the best he could.

He brushed back his wind–tangled dark hair and reached deep into his pocket. He found the blue Elfstones easily enough and pulled them out past the larger bulk of the Loden. Then he leaned over the side of the basket. Arborlon was just ahead, the number of visible lights increasing steadily as they neared.

“Hurry up, Little K!” his sister urged. She was working the vents and flaps with quick, rushed movements. “Much closer and we won’t have any option but to land farther down the slope!”

Which was where the greater number of demons was likely to be concentrated, she was suggesting. He tightened his fingers about the Elfstones and extended his arm in the general direction of the city. He kept his eyes open this time, concentrating his attention on the middle space between the balloon and the earth, in the vast sprawl of the night’s darkness, envisioning the demons and their followers, spying out an army hidden from view. He pictured that army as he thought it might be, an army of creatures of the sort Culph and the four–legged demon had been, humans become monsters. He imagined their dark intention of hunting down and destroying the Elves. He reached out as he had on the slopes of Syrring Rise when searching for the ice caves.