Nightfall

by Shannon Messenger

  As a group, they’d feasted on the sugary, buttery treats until they were all leaning back in their chairs, convinced they might burst if they stuffed themselves with any more pastry—even Bronte. In fact, the generally surly Councillor had smiled so much throughout the course of the afternoon that Sophie wondered if his cheek muscles would be sore the next day.

  Amy had been nervous around him at first, intimidated by his jewels and regal attire—but it hadn’t stopped her from asking if she could feel the points of his ears, and causing everyone else to breathe their own “whoas” when Bronte let her.

  He’d used the moment to assure Amy that the Council would keep her safe in the Lost Cities as long as she needed to stay. After that, he’d primarily been a silent observer.

  Amy had been quiet as well, especially around Sophie’s adoptive parents—though they’d still gotten their own “whoa,” paired with a whispered “It’s like you’re being raised by movie stars.” But Grady and Edaline had happily filled the silence, sharing hilarious stories about Sophie’s adventures since she’d moved to the Lost Cities—with Alden and Della jumping in to give extra details. Amy seemed to hang on every word, and kept stealing glances at Sophie, as if she couldn’t believe she was the girl they were talking about.

  Sophie, meanwhile, was having just as hard of a time adjusting to the sight of her sister in elvin attire. Livvy had given Amy the dark blue tunic studded with sapphires and diamonds she now wore paired with silver leggings and knee-high boots—which had subtle wedge heels. But it was the cape that did Sophie in. Long, gray, and silky, and fastened around Amy’s neck with a crest that Sophie had never seen before—round, with three hands reaching for each other.

  Livvy had whispered in Sophie’s ear that she’d had the pin made to represent Amy’s family, and Sophie’s eyes welled up at the gesture. But they spilled over when she studied the design again.

  Three hands.

  No fourth for her.

  It was how it should be. How it would have to be.

  And Sophie could live with that. She could let them go again, to spare them that pain.

  But it would still hurt.

  It would always hurt.

  “I get it now,” Amy mumbled as they stood outside Verdi’s enclosure, watching the neon-green T. rex gobble up her dinner. The rest of their group had stepped back, giving Sophie and Amy some time alone together.

  “Get what?” Sophie asked.

  “Why you like living here. I mean, look at this place!”

  She giggled as Verdi tried to use her too-short arms to wipe a bit of food off her fluffy snout.

  “It’s honestly the most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” Amy whispered, “and I’m saying that after coming from Atlantis.”

  “That’s right, what’d you think of your first ride in a eurypterid carriage?” Sophie asked.

  “Not nearly as terrifying as the bubble-geyser thing. Can’t elves ever do anything normal?”

  Sophie smiled. “I’m pretty sure they can’t.”

  Amy raised an eyebrow. “You realize you’re one of them, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m still . . . getting used to the language.”

  “I guess that makes sense. And by the way—your friends?” Amy glanced over her shoulder to take another peek at them. “Are they in a contest to see who can be the most gorgeous or something?”

  Sophie had to laugh. “They might be.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” Amy told her. “Especially Fitz’s family. I mean, seriously, who looks like that?”

  “Only the Vackers,” Sophie assured her.

  “Though those silver-haired twins? Dude.” Her sister leaned closer. “And the reddish-haired guy is the one you kissed, right?”

  “Ugh, keep your voice down!”

  “I did.” She stole another glance at Dex. “Don’t worry, he’s talking to Quinlin and that guy with the pointy ears, anyway.”

  That was good to know—though Sophie wasn’t surprised. Dex had done his best to stay a safe distance away from her all afternoon. But he wasn’t the only one who could be eavesdropping.

  “Not that you care what I think,” Amy whispered, “but you totally made the right choice. The other guys seem more your type.”

  “And how, exactly, do you know my type?” Sophie had to ask.

  “I guess I don’t,” her sister admitted. “You didn’t have a lot of friends when you lived with us.”

  Sophie’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, well, no one wanted to hang out with the freaky twelve-year-old know-it-all who’d skipped a zillion grades.”

  “Probably true.” Amy turned back to the munching T. rex. “I think I get that now too. How it must’ve felt growing up around humans. Because as much as I love it here? I can feel it—deep down—that I don’t belong. You’re all so powerful and pretty and I’m—”

  “You’re pretty,” Sophie interrupted. Not that beauty mattered, but . . . she hated the idea of her sister feeling inadequate, even in a small, silly way.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking for a compliment. I just meant . . . this really is a whole other world. You live in mansions and sew diamonds onto your clothes like it’s no big deal.” She twisted one of the larger stones stitched along her tunic’s hem, and Sophie wondered how many thousands of dollars the same diamond would sell for in the human world. “And while part of me keeps wondering how I’m ever going to go back to reality after being here, the other part of me . . . really wants to go home.”

  She choked on the last word and turned her face away.

  Sophie scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her sister’s shoulders, trying to think of something to say.

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well yesterday,” Amy whispered. “Otherwise Mom and Dad would be here. So just . . . give me the bad news, okay?”

  Sophie bit her lip. “You’re sure you don’t want to wait until you’re ready to go back to Atlantis? It might ruin the day.”

  “Just tell me,” her sister begged. “I keep imagining the most horrible things.”

  Sophie nodded, trying her best to sugarcoat anything she could as she told the story of their time in Nightfall and how they didn’t currently have a clear plan for where to search next. And she left out Lady Gisela’s warning about her parents’ sanity.

  She also definitely didn’t mention anything about having to erase their memories.

  But her sister was still trembling by the end, and her eyes were red and puffy.

  “I know this isn’t going to make any of it better,” Sophie said, holding her sister tighter. “But I’ve done this before. The part where it all feels hopeless, and like it’s never going to come together. And you know what? Somehow, it does. It’s never perfect. But it’s usually better than I’d been fearing. And if you don’t believe me, look at Mr. Forkle.”

  They both turned toward the heavyset figure watching them from the shadows of Calla’s Panakes, trying his best to pretend he wasn’t listening to their conversation.

  “So that is our old neighbor?” Amy asked. “I thought I must be remembering him wrong when I saw him, since you’d told me he was . . .”

  “Yeah, sorry—I should’ve warned you.” She explained Mr. Forkle’s dead-but-not-dead situation.

  “Uh, that might be the weirdest thing ever,” Amy told her when she’d finished. “And I’m saying that while staring at a fluffy dinosaur.”

  “Believe me, I know,” Sophie said. “But it also proves that things aren’t always as bad as they seem, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “I know it still hurts. And I can’t change that. But just . . . know that whatever happens, it’s going to be survivable—and never stop hoping for the happy ending. Sometimes you get one you don’t expect. I’ll definitely be fighting for it with everything I have.”

  Amy wiped a fresh swell of tears as she leaned against Sophie’s shoulder, the two of them clinging to each other, watching the sun make its slow descent toward the ocean.
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  “So where are those flying unicorn things you told me about?” Amy eventually asked. “What are they called again?”

  “Alicorns,” Sophie told her. “And they don’t live here. We set them free because it’s safer if the Neverseen can’t find them.”

  “Aw, it would’ve been cool to see them.”

  Sophie wished she could show her sister the sparkly flying horses and bring back all the “whoas” and smiles from earlier. But after her last conversation with Silveny, she doubted she’d be able to convince the pregnant alicorn to teleport over.

  Still, it might be worth a try. . . .

  “No promises,” Sophie told her. “But I’m going to see if I can reach them.”

  “You can do that? Just . . . shout with your mind and talk to someone anywhere?”

  “Depends on who I’m trying to reach. But, yeah.”

  Sophie shot her sister a slightly smug grin before she pushed out her consciousness, calling Silveny’s name over and over as her mental energy spread and spread and spread.

  It took longer than normal again, but Silveny’s voice at least sounded chipper as she transmitted, SOPHIE! FRIEND! HI!

  Hi! Sophie transmitted back. How are you and Greyfell and the baby?

  GOOD! GOOD! GOOD!

  Silveny flooded Sophie’s head with images of the secluded meadow Greyfell had found for them.

  That looks perfect, Sophie told her. I’m so glad you guys are safe.

  SAFE! Silveny promised.

  Sophie chewed her lip, trying to choose how to broach the idea of a visit without starting another alicorn tantrum.

  Did I ever tell you I have a sister? she asked.

  NO! The shout was especially loud. SISTER! SISTER! SISTER!

  But despite the boisterous response, loneliness clung to Silveny’s words, and Sophie wondered if Silveny had once had an extended family.

  She sent Silveny a mental picture of her sister standing next to her. This is Amy.

  AMY! AMY! AMY!

  And you know what? Sophie asked. She’d love to be your friend.

  FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND!

  Does that mean you’ll come meet her?

  Silveny’s thoughts went silent for a second, before she told Sophie, LATER!

  But “later” means you won’t get to meet her. She has to go back to Atlantis tonight. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to bring her to Havenfield again. Amy’s also been going through some really scary stuff, and I was hoping you’d be able to cheer her up. But I’ll tell her you don’t want to meet her—

  WANT! Silveny interrupted. WANT! SISTER! FRIEND!

  Then come see us, Sophie challenged. Please?

  A hint of the sadness and worry and desperation she’d been carrying must’ve clung to the plea, because Silveny’s attention got a whole lot clearer.

  SOPHIE OKAY? Silveny asked, her mind sifting through Sophie’s mess of conflicted emotions.

  I’m fine. It’s just . . . been a rough week. And without meaning to, she shared a few of the harder memories.

  Silveny studied each image, and a surge of something that could only be described as motherly worry flooded Sophie’s mind.

  HOLD ON! Silveny transmitted. VISIT! VISIT! VISIT!

  The transmission was followed by a boom of thunder as a black line split through the sky—a tiny tear in reality, opening to the void beyond.

  And out of the darkness, two shimmering winged horses appeared.

  SOPHIE! FRIEND! HI!

  Fifty-seven

  I’M ASSUMING YOU invited them here?” Bronte called as he craned his neck to watch the alicorns circle overhead, their silver fur shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight.

  “Amy wanted to meet them,” Sophie called back, grinning as Silveny flew circles around Greyfell. It was easy to tell them apart, thanks to Silveny’s slightly smaller size and Greyfell’s blue-tipped wings.

  “They’re amazing,” Amy whispered. “How did they crack the sky like that?”

  “Teleporting.”

  That earned another “whoa.” Followed by several more when both alicorns tucked their glittering wings and dove—streaking toward the ground and barely stopping their freefall in time to land in the long grass a few feet away.

  SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE!

  “Hi,” Sophie said, stepping closer to check every inch of the alicorns for any clue to why Silveny had resisted the visit earlier.

  Silveny’s belly had a slight bulge to it, but that seemed normal considering the pregnancy. And everything else looked fine—her fur was sleek and shiny, her gold-flecked brown eyes were sparkling and clear as she studied Sophie every bit as closely as Sophie was studying her. And she looked far more concerned with the results.

  SOPHIE OKAY?

  Better now that you’re here, Sophie told her, stroking the velvety fur along Silveny’s nose. I’ve really missed you.

  Silveny nuzzled into Sophie’s shoulder.

  Ready to meet my sister? Sophie asked.

  SISTER! SISTER! SISTER!

  Sophie turned to where Amy stood in jaw-dropped awe. “Amy, this is Silveny.”

  AMY! AMY! AMY!

  “And that’s Greyfell,” Sophie added, gesturing to the much more reserved male alicorn, who stamped his gleaming hooves and whinnied.

  Amy offered the most adorably shy wave.

  “Here,” Grady said as he rushed over with a huge armful of twisted stalks. “Give them some swizzlespice and they’ll love you forever.”

  TREATS! TREATS! TREATS! Silveny chanted.

  Amy took two bunches of the stalks and held them out the way Grady showed her, grinning from ear to ear as the alicorns gobbled them straight from her hands.

  When they’d devoured the whole batch, Silveny turned to the rest of the group that was watching them—and realized someone was missing.

  KEEFE?

  He’s not here, Sophie told her. But he’s fine, don’t worry.

  Silveny must’ve sensed the doubt in her answer, because she blasted Sophie with chants of KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!

  “You okay?” Amy asked as Sophie rubbed her temples.

  “Yeah. Silveny’s just very loud.”

  KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!

  You’re here to see my sister, Sophie reminded her. She needs you to cheer her up.

  Silveny glanced back at Amy. SISTER SAD?

  She’s trying not to be, Sophie told her, feeling Silveny digging through her memories to understand what was happening.

  SOPHIE SCARED? she asked.

  A little, Sophie admitted.

  Silveny nudged her with her nose, filling Sophie’s mind with a rush of tender, reassuring warmth—along with an unexpected question.

  FLY?

  Do you mean fly with my sister?

  YES! SOPHIE! SISTER! FLY!

  Sophie bit her lip, glancing at Amy. “How scared are you of heights?”

  Amy’s eyes stretched huge. “We can fly with them?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  “Are you kidding? Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

  “Oh man—this is going to be a very loud flight,” Sophie mumbled as Silveny transmitted, FLY! FLY! FLY!

  “I have to admit, I’m a little jealous,” Bronte said, coming over to watch as Silveny knelt to let them climb onto her back.

  Sophie gave Amy the front spot and settled in behind her, wrapping her arms around Amy’s waist to hold her steady.

  “You’ve never flown with the alicorns?” Amy asked him.

  Bronte shook his head. “Maybe someday.”

  Sophie tried to imagine a giddy Silveny looping through the sky with Bronte on her back—but she couldn’t picture it.

  “Why not today?” Amy asked. “Couldn’t he ride Greyfell?”

  All eyes shifted to the male alicorn, who seemed to understand what they were discussing—and did not seem happy about it.

  It’s up to you, Sophie transmitted to him. You don’t have to.

  Gre
yfell flicked his tail.

  “Awww, you should let him,” Amy told the grumpy alicorn. “You’d make his day. And I bet he’d give you a bunch more of those spicy sticks as a thank-you.”

  Greyfell gave her sister the alicorn equivalent of side-eye, and Sophie assumed the snuffle that followed was a no. But Greyfell slowly dipped his head and bent his knees, inviting Bronte to climb onto his back.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Bronte whispered. His hands trembled as he hauled himself up, and Sophie could’ve sworn his eyes looked misty.

  “Ready?” she asked, tightening her grip on her sister.

  “Yes!” Bronte and Amy said in unison.

  The word morphed into gasps and screams as the alicorns flapped their wings and launched into the sky. But the shouts quickly shifted to delighted squeals, then pleas to go faster and higher and spin and flip and more more more—for Amy at least. Bronte and Greyfell kept things much simpler.

  Silveny offered to teleport them anywhere they wanted to go, but Sophie wasn’t sure if that would be safe for a human. So they stayed soaring over Havenfield, sometimes stretching out over the ocean, and Sophie couldn’t decide if she should marvel at her sister’s fearlessness or worry about motion sickness.

  Mostly, though, she loved hearing Amy laugh.

  With all the bad news and stress, it was nice to give her this unforgettable experience.

  Even if Amy wouldn’t get to remember it for very long.

  Sadness crept in with the realization, but Sophie fought it back, trying to savor the moment. They both deserved to lose themselves in this brief, happy escape before they’d have to return to reality.

  So they flew for hours and hours, until the sun was long gone and the blue-black sky twinkled with the flickers of early stars. Most of the group had gone home by the time Silveny and Greyfell touched down again in Havenfield’s pastures. Only Quinlin remained.

  “I need my own alicorn,” Amy decided, stretching her stiff legs after she dismounted. “Want to give me one as a present?”