The Gypsy Morph Read Free Page A

her beyond this point, so she is surprised at his request. But she does not refuse. She will go anywhere he wants to take her. Her trust in him is complete and unequivocal. She is not afraid.
    They thread their way into the maze, winding down narrow passageways that are more alleyways than streets and in some cases not even that. The air is heavy and thick with dust, and it is difficult to breathe. But she does not complain. She ignores her discomfort and walks with him as if everything were as it should be.
    Indeed, with Johnny, how could it ever be anything else?
    But as their journey through the surreal landscape continues, she becomes aware of a slow darkening of the sky. It happens gradually and for no apparent reason. There are no clouds, no storms approaching. The sun simply begins to fade until their surroundings are wrapped in twilight. If Johnny notices, he is not telling her. He walks steadily ahead, her hand in his, his stride even and unchanged. She keeps pace, but she is looking around now, wondering. It is midday. How can the light be so dim?
    Then suddenly Johnny stops, and his hand releases hers. For a moment, she cannot believe he has let go of her. She stands quietly, motionless in the fading light, waiting for him to join hands again. When he does not and when he says nothing, she looks up at him.
    He is no longer there.
    He has disappeared.
    She catches her breath and shudders. How has this happened? How can he have vanished so completely?
    Ahead, a shadow figure appears, cloaked and hooded, its features hidden. It does not move, but stands facing her. She does not know what it is, but it makes her feel cold and alone.
    “ ¿Quién es? ” she calls out, her voice breaking.
    The figure says nothing, but starts toward her, moving woodenly through the rubble, cloak billowing out behind it in dark folds. She knows suddenly what it is and what it wants. She knows why Johnny has brought her here and why he has left her.
    She waits, already anticipating the inconceivable.

     
    A NGEL WOKE SUDDENLY to biting cold and darkness. She lay half buried in a snowdrift, her damaged body stiff and drained of warmth. Her wounds were frozen beneath her clothing and in some places to her clothing, but she could feel almost nothing of the pain. The wind blew in sharp gusts, causing the snow to swirl across the empty landscape in intricate patterns. Particles of ice stung her face where there was still feeling, dancing at the edges of her vision like tiny creatures. Overhead the stars were bright and clear in the cloudless night sky.
    She was on the mountain the Elves called Syrring Rise, collapsed in the snow that layered the upper slopes. She had crawled this far after her battle with the demon, seeking to reach the ice caves into which Kirisin and his sister had gone earlier. She had used up the last of her strength to get to where she was, but she already knew that it wasn’t enough to save her.
    She was dying.
    She was amazed at how readily she embraced the fact, how clearly she recognized it. She should have been fighting against it, struggling to break free of its grip. She knew that the Elves might be in terrible danger from the second demon and have need of her. She knew that if she continued to lie there, to fail to rise and go on, she would be unable to help them. But a deep and pervasive lethargy gripped her, discouraging resistance to its immense weight, leaving her content merely to lie there and accept the dark hands reaching out to gather her in.
    She saw the cloaked figure in her dream anew, the one the ghost of Johnny had taken her to meet. Death was waiting patiently for her to come, and now she was almost there. She thought again of the four-legged horror that had brought her to this, a thing of chameleon shapes, first a woman with spiky blond hair and finally a monstrous cat, but always a demon with an insatiable need to destroy her.
    Which now, it seemed, it had.
    She was tired. She was so tired.
    She