The Gypsy Morph by Terry Brooks Page B

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