“On it,” Biana said, wrapping Sophie’s arm around her shoulder and leading her down the first step.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Marella asked when they nearly toppled over.
“It’s fine,” Biana said. “We just need to find a rhythm—see?”
The next step went a little smoother. And the one after that.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Marella argued. “Couldn’t we be tracking the Neverseen right now?”
“It’s possible,” Sophie admitted. “All I know is that there’s someone there. But I have no idea who or how many.”
“Or maybe it’s what,” Marella reminded her. “It could be one of the gorgodons. It was hard to tell how many were part of that pile of bones.”
Sophie hadn’t thought of that.
“Well . . . either way, we have to check,” Biana said, guiding Sophie down another stair. “If it’s a gorgodon, we’re already prepared for that. And if it’s the Neverseen, we’ll find a way to deal with them. But hopefully it’s Sophie’s parents and we can grab them and get out.”
They moved in silence, step by step, until they made it back to the level they’d entered on.
“But it’s still farther down,” Sophie whispered.
Marella whimpered. “It looks really dark down there.”
“Hopefully some lanterns will kick on,” Biana told her.
It didn’t sound like they did—though Sophie couldn’t tell with her eyes closed.
She was so focused on following the pulsing energy that she nearly lost her balance when the next step was flat ground instead of another stair.
“I think this is the basement,” Biana whispered. “The walls are all rough stone.”
“Is there a fork in the path?” Sophie asked. “I feel the energy pulling me to the right.”
“There is,” Biana said, leading her forward and navigating her through the sharp turn, guiding Sophie until the pull shifted again.
Sophie steered them through turn after turn, fighting to keep her eyes closed. She couldn’t have kept her connection otherwise—and they never would’ve found their way on their own.
“How are we going to get back to the exit to leap home?” Marella asked. “I’ve lost track of where we are.”
“One problem at a time,” Biana told her.
“Speaking of problems, has anyone else been reading the runes?” Tam asked.
“Are there more doors?” Sophie whispered.
“A few,” Biana agreed. “They’re all closed. And the runes aren’t glowing. And they all say ‘undesirable.’ ”
“That’s . . . probably not good,” Sophie admitted. Especially since the pulsing energy was getting really close. “Go left.”
They did—and screeched to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked, unable to resist opening her eyes.
The low-ceilinged hall dead-ended at a heavy steel door that was open just enough to let a triangle of glaring white light paint across the dark stone floor.
“The rune says ‘rejected,’ ” Tam whispered.
The four of them exchanged a look.
“I’ll go check it out,” Biana told them. “That way Tam can keep you guys covered with shadows.”
Sophie wanted to protest, but Biana had already turned invisible and started down the hall.
Scream if you need help, she transmitted.
Uh, if you hear me scream—run! Biana countered.
“I don’t know how you guys do this kind of stuff all the time,” Marella mumbled, leaning against the wall. “I feel like I’ve sweated out a year of my life.”
So did Sophie.
Especially as she watched the door creep open, pulled by Biana’s invisible hands.
A sharp gasp shattered the silence, and Biana blinked back into substance, shaking her head and stumbling back.
“What?” Sophie asked, already charging through the doorway, into a room divided by a glowing white force field that stretched from the ceiling to the floor.
A bound, unconscious figure lay trapped on the other side, dripping blood on the stones.
His face was swollen and bruised, his eyes were closed, and his chest was slashed and gouged.
But Sophie still recognized him.
Alvar.
Forty-seven
IS HE . . . DEAD?” Marella whispered, squinting to get a better look at Alvar’s still form.
“I wouldn’t have been able to feel him if he was,” Sophie reminded her.
She’d lost the connection now, which made her wonder if the strange shadowy energy Tam had given her was the only way her telepathy could pass through the force field.
“He’s breathing,” she added, watching Alvar’s wounded chest make the shallowest of dips.
Biana turned away, covering her mouth like she was about to be ill, and Sophie wrapped her arm around her, struggling to figure out what to say.
Alvar had betrayed them—but he was still Biana’s brother. And he’d clearly gotten himself in serious trouble.
“We were supposed to find your parents,” Biana whispered.
“I know.” The tears Sophie was fighting choked off her voice. “But your brother—”
“I don’t care about him,” Biana interrupted. “Are you sure your parents aren’t somewhere else in the facility? I think you should check.”
“I mean it,” she added when Sophie hesitated. “He helped capture them, remember? So just forget about him and let’s see if we can still fix this.”
“Biana,” Sophie tried.
“Please,” Biana begged. “I can’t deal with him until we find your family.”
Sophie had a horrible, sickening feeling they wouldn’t have a choice. But she sank down on the rough floor and closed her eyes, letting her mind go blank before she pushed out her consciousness and made it drift through the facility like a soft breeze.
Sweat licked down the back of her neck, and her head throbbed from the strain—and all she found was cold, silent emptiness. She even asked Tam to boost her with shadows again, in case that really was the trick to sensing past Ruy’s force fields.
“They’re not here,” Sophie finally had to admit, reaching up to rub her pulsing forehead, glad she had something to do with her hands. It eased the urge to punch the floor. “The Neverseen must’ve packed up what they wanted, killed the gorgodons, and ditched this place.”
“Why would they do that?” Marella asked.
“No idea,” Sophie admitted.
What if her parents were . . .
She clamped down on the thought, crushing it like the cruel little bug that it was.
Her parents had to be alive. The Neverseen would never destroy such a powerful bargaining chip.
She needed to focus on smarter questions, like: How were they going to find them?
They could ask Lady Gisela, but her help wouldn’t come free. And Keefe’s mom probably didn’t know anything useful. Nightfall was her legacy—and the Neverseen had stripped it bare and slaughtered her precious creatures.
But what other leads did they have?
Her eyes strayed to Alvar, watching him take another shallow breath. Bonds tore into his wrists and ankles, and his body was covered in bruises. But the deep, curved gashes were what held her attention.
“They cut Alvar with a shamkniv,” she said, explaining what she knew about the weapon.
“So they must’ve kicked him out of their order,” Tam noted.
“Or that’s what they want us to think,” Biana warned. “They had to know we’d come here—so maybe they left him like this to trick us into taking him. They could be setting the same trap they used with Gethen.”
“I dunno,” Marella told her. “He doesn’t look like he can last much longer. Maybe they thought he’d be dead by the time we got here?”
“Or they knew we’d be extra suspicious after Lumenaria, so they left him this battered to make us feel sorry for him,” Biana countered.
Both
were viable explanations.
But it didn’t matter.
“Even if it’s a trick, we can’t leave him here,” Sophie decided. “He might know something about where they took my parents, or what the Neverseen are up to with the ash and the efflorescence. I know it’s a huge risk—but it’s still our best option at this point. And he can’t fool us if we’re on to the game, right?”
“Unless there’s more than one game,” Biana reminded her.
“So we take the player off the field, or . . . I’m losing track of this metaphor.” Sophie rubbed her pulsing temples. “All I’m saying is, we can make sure that Alvar has no access to anyone or anything that’s even remotely important. Then it won’t matter if the Neverseen have plans for him. Okay?”
Biana stared at her brother. “As long as you don’t expect me to trust him.”
“None of us are going to trust him,” Sophie assured her. “We’re just going to get him strong enough so I can search his memories and see what he knows.”
“What if they wiped his mind, to make sure he couldn’t help us?” Marella asked.
“Then I’ll ask Mr. Forkle how to trigger the erased memories. There has to be a way.” Sophie repeated the words in her head until they drowned out her other needling doubts.
She turned to Tam. “Can you break through the force field so we can get to him?”
Tam nodded, letting his shadow stretch toward the wall of flashing energy. The darkness sank into the milky light, fanning out in thin threads that crawled through the brightness like ink in water. And bit by bit, the force field unraveled.
Sophie froze, waiting to see if Alvar would react, but he stayed silent and still—even when she got close enough to nudge him with her toe. She tried to open her mind to his thoughts, but all she found was sludgy black. So she pulled her gloves on and tried to lift him by his shoulders.
“Someone take his legs. We need get him back to the exit.”
They couldn’t light leap through solid stone—at least not with normal light.
“You Foxfire people always forget the obvious,” Tam told her, floating Alvar’s body off the ground. “Remember telekinesis?”
Sophie’s cheeks burned. “Right. I guess that’s smarter.”
Then again, watching Alvar’s bleeding, unconscious body float down the hall would surely become a recurring feature of her nightmares.
“Where are we taking him after this?” Tam asked as they followed him through the maze of corridors.
“Not Everglen,” Biana told him. “Or anywhere near my family.”
“Same goes for Havenfield and my parents,” Sophie added. “And Dex’s house. And the Councillors’ castles in Eternalia. And we don’t want him anywhere near my sister, so Atlantis is out—and we have to keep him away from Wylie and Prentice, too.”
“I don’t think we should lock him away in Exile, either,” Tam said. “In case they’re planning a prison break. And they could be hoping we’ll take him to one of the Black Swan’s hideouts, so those are all off-limits.”
“Which leaves us with where?” Marella asked.
Sophie bit her lip. “Well . . . what about bringing him to your house? They have no idea you’re working with us now, so there’s no way that would be part of their plan.”
“I guess that’s true.” Marella dragged out the last syllable. “But . . . his injuries would freak out my mom. Sorry, I know—”
“It’s fine,” Sophie assured her. “You’re right. Bad idea. I was just thinking out loud.”
They’d reached the stairs by that point, and Sophie noticed Tam gritting his teeth as he floated Alvar up.
“Here,” Biana said, letting her mind take control—and smacking Alvar’s body against the metal railing in the process.
“That was an accident,” she insisted.
But a few minutes later she banged his shoulder.
Then his head.
“What about Foxfire?” Marella suggested, getting back to the bigger question. “Maybe keep him in the Healing Center and let Elwin treat his wounds?”
“And risk that Alvar does something to the school?” Sophie countered. “No way.”
“I think the real answer is that we need to hide him somewhere new,” Tam said as they turned down the final hall. “We should set up a cell in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Black Swan would help.”
“But what do we do with him while they build it?” Sophie asked.
Tam mumbled his reply, and Sophie had to ask him to repeat it.
“I said my house would work.”
Sophie shook her head. “We can’t have him around Tiergan—especially with Tiergan’s connections to Wylie.”
“I didn’t mean where I’m staying now,” Tam corrected. “I meant . . . Choralmere.”
Biana stopped walking. “You want to bring him to your parents’ house?”
“Not want,” Tam corrected. “But . . . the Neverseen wouldn’t expect it.”
He had a point.
“Do you even have a way to get there?” Biana asked.
Tam squatted and peeled back the thick sole of his boot, removing a small round pendant from the heel. “I stole my home crystal when I left with Linh, in case either of us ever got seriously hurt and we needed a way to get back to the Lost Cities for help.”
“I can’t believe you had to think about stuff like that,” Sophie said quietly.
When she’d been banished, she’d headed straight for the Black Swan and let them take care of her.
“You’re really sure you want to do this?” she had to ask as Tam stomped down the sole of his shoe and stood.
Tam nodded. “Why not? Time to give my parents a little payback.”
Forty-eight
CHORALMERE SAT NESTLED between the edge of a rainforest and a pristine cove, where turquoise waves lapped against the silvery shore. A gray stone path lined with glowing golden orbs stretched across the smooth sand to the main entrance of the massive house, which was even more elegant and auspicious than Sophie had been imagining.
Tiers of golden roofs crowned the square towers that formed the four corners of the outer wall—all of which had been built with blocks of crystal and garnet and amber. And three massive inner towers jutted from the center of the interior courtyard, made from the same sparkly bricks, but also decorated with gilded moldings and balconies around every window. Strings of gleaming golden lanterns tied all of the structures together, and lacy treetops peeked out of the center, hinting at a lush inner atrium.
But what truly stood out were the sounds drifting through the warm night air. Hundreds of wind chimes rang from somewhere within the courtyard, blending with a cacophony of soft whistles created by the long metal tubes lining the eaves. Paired with the crashing surf and the rustling palm trees, it felt like they were surrounded by an ever-changing symphony.
“Yeah, I know,” Tam said when he noticed Sophie’s and Biana’s wide-eyed stares. “Now you see why my parents refused to leave this place.”
“What do you mean?” Biana asked, unpinning her bun and unraveling her ashy hair.
Sophie did the same, noticing for the first time how hard her hands were shaking. She tried to channel that anxious energy into her legs, keeping them moving forward. That was the goal right now—don’t stop, don’t think, don’t panic.
She’d given Marella the starstone hairpin and sent her back to Havenfield so that Tam’s parents wouldn’t know she was connected to the Black Swan—and so Marella could have the Collective send Livvy to help with Alvar’s injuries.
Tam kicked the edge of one of the path’s stones. “Well, a beachfront house isn’t exactly an ideal location for a newly manifested Hydrokinetic. So when Linh started having problems, some of the Councillors suggested my parents move somewhere drier. But my mom said she’d be lost without the sounds of the sea. Apparently that was more important than her daughter—though of course she claimed it was Linh’s fault for not trying harder to control her ability.”
Biana tugged at the tangled strands of her hair. “Sometimes I hate myself for not realizing our world can be so unfair.”
“You aren’t the only one,” Tam reminded her. “And it’s not like you had anything to do with what happened. The Council made the choice—and my parents didn’t resist.”
“I guess. But . . . my family’s a part of it. ‘The Vacker legacy’?” She made air quotes with the words. “I don’t know what Alvar meant by that—but it’s made me really think about what it means to be related to one of the founding members of the Council. All these decisions we keep questioning, like the prejudice against multiple births and the ban on Pyrokinesis? Those are all things Fallon probably decided.”
“Even if you’re right, he didn’t make those decisions alone,” Tam reminded her. “There were other members of the Council who had to agree—and there’ve been lots of other Councillors since then who haven’t felt the need to change anything.”
“I know,” Biana mumbled. “But . . . some of them were part of my family too, along with tons of the nobility. And all my life, I’ve had everyone treat me like I’m special because of it—because I’m a Vacker. But maybe the Vackers aren’t as awesome as everyone thinks. Maybe we’ve messed up the world.”
She pointed to her unconscious brother, who looked so pale as he hovered between them that Sophie almost wondered if they hadn’t shielded him well enough during the light leap.
“You can’t change who you are, or who your family is,” Tam told her. “Believe me—if I could, I would. All you can do is make sure you’re living by what you believe in.”
“I guess.” Biana looked away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me. Is Linh going to be mad at you for bringing us here?”
“Not mad,” Tam said. “But I need to hail her as soon as we get Alvar settled and let her know what’s going on.”
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Sophie had to ask. “We can find somewhere else.”
Nightfall Page 31
