“That’s part of it,” Edaline agreed, standing up and smoothing her silky tunic. “But I’d never use something like this”—she snapped her fingers and conjured a short, braided whip—“on an animal. Even the gorgodon—though sometimes I’m tempted.”
She jumped and spun, cracking the whip in the same fluid motion and striking a nearby pillow, sending bits of feather and fluff scattering as she leaped into a backflip and cracked the whip against the floor.
Sometimes Sophie forgot that while Edaline might seem timid and sweet, with her pink cheeks and frilly clothes, but she also spent most of her days lassoing woolly mammoths or riding dinosaurs or wrangling giant prehistoric bugs.
“Does the thought of violence ever get to you?” Sophie asked, toying with the hem on Ella’s Hawaiian shirt.
“I don’t like it,” Edaline admitted as she coiled her whip into a tight bundle. “Neither does Grady. And we’re both hoping that things never come to another battle. But . . . if they do, knowing how to wield certain weapons might be the only thing that keeps the people we love safe. So we’ve made our peace with that. And we’ve made our peace with you and your friends learning to protect yourselves as well, so long as you’re responsible with your training, working with instructors who will teach you proper techniques and make sure you’re considering the risks to both yourselves and others—which it sounded like you’d be doing. Biana also mentioned that you’ll be stepping up your ability lessons, so Grady wanted me to remind you to stick to your limits.”
“Yeah, he gave me a whole big speech a while back about what happened with his Mesmer training,” Sophie told her.
And she’d been trying to keep it in mind ever since, making sure she didn’t push too hard during her inflicting lessons so she wouldn’t lose control.
But that could also be why she wasn’t progressing with the ability.
“Just . . . try to ask yourself every day, ‘How is this training affecting me?’ ” Edaline suggested, snapping to make the whip disappear back to wherever she’d conjured it from. “And make sure you’re really honest with your answer. Never be afraid to say, ‘I don’t think I can handle this.’ And if you ever need to talk, you can always come to me—or Grady.”
“But let’s not forget that you’re not allowed to join your friends in whatever program they’re planning until I give you the all clear,” Elwin said, pulling the silky cloth off Sophie’s forehead. “Same goes for Fitz. And I’ll be honest—that’s probably going to take several weeks.”
“I know,” Sophie told him. “We’re going to focus on skill and Cognate training until then—well . . . once Fitz isn’t sedated anymore. Do you know how much longer that’s going to be?”
“Not exactly,” Elwin admitted. “His bones are healing slower than I expected, and I think it’s because there’s so much nerve damage from when he got shocked by the force field. So now I’m treating him for both at the same time—which is a pretty rough elixir combination. Even harder on the stomach than the medicine you’ll be taking. So I’ll probably keep him knocked out until he’s past that, which should be at least a couple more days. Plus, I think I want to run a few more tests on his heart. There’s still nothing wrong,” he added quickly. “I just want to check one more time to make sure I’m not missing something—especially now that I couldn’t see your headache. And I want Tam to check him when he gets here, which should be pretty soon. I would’ve had Magnate Leto pull him out early, but we’re trying to keep our little slumber party a secret. That’s why there’s not a huge crowd in here, in case you’re wondering. I’ve had to chase all your friends away—and Keefe’s been even worse than Biana. I swear, it’s a good thing that boy didn’t manifest as a Vanisher—the world would’ve dissolved into chaos. But I digress. This slumber party is closed to visitors unless the Council says otherwise. They don’t want anyone knowing what happened until you and Fitz are fully recovered.”
Sophie shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how much the Council was already hiding. And she didn’t totally blame them for trying to prevent panic. But the more secrets and lies they piled on top of each other, the bigger the mess would be when it came crashing down.
“Aren’t people going to notice that we’re not at school?” she asked. “Or wonder why Dex’s arm is in a sling?”
“Dex stayed home today—and he’ll stay home tomorrow, too. And then he’ll be out of the sling and back to normal. And I’ve put Keefe and Biana in charge of making sure everyone thinks you’re all busy with some mysterious assignment for the Black Swan. Though, from what I’ve heard, everyone’s mostly gossiping about the Council’s verdict for Alvar.”
Sophie glanced at Fitz, glad he was at least getting to sleep through some of that. “You said there’s a lot going on at Everglen,” she reminded Edaline. “Does that mean the Council moved Alvar in?”
“Actually, that’s been stalled. Grizel’s redoing all the security, and the Council agreed to wait until she’s finished—and also until she’s had time to go back to Gildingham and get treated for her injuries. So it’ll be a few more days at least.”
Another sliver of good news.
But it also reminded Sophie that her own security situation was very much still up in the air. And she couldn’t help noticing that there was definitely not a seven-foot-tall goblin anywhere in the Healing Center.
“So . . . ,” she said, pulling Ella tighter to her chest. “Has anyone heard from Sandor?”
“We have,” Edaline told her, and Sophie couldn’t breathe—until Edaline’s lips stretched into the hugest smile ever. “He’s not going anywhere! He wanted to tell you the good news himself, but again, we’re trying not to draw too much attention to the Healing Center. So I promised I’d let you know—and Grizel wanted me to inform you that you’re allowed to come up with one punishment for him for what he put you through.”
Sophie laughed. “I don’t need to punish him.”
“You might want to put a pin in that thought,” Elwin told her, “because if you think he was overbearing before . . .”
“It’s worth it,” Sophie insisted. “And hey, he’s leaving me here without a guard, right?”
“Oh, you have guards,” Elwin told her. “Queen Hylda assigned fifty goblins to Foxfire.”
“Fifty? As in five-zero? Not fifteen?”
“Fifty,” Edaline confirmed.
“That’s . . . a lot of goblins.”
“That’s what we want,” Edaline agreed. “The Neverseen need to understand that if they try to get anywhere near you, they’re going to face an army.”
Sophie pressed her nose between Ella’s ears, wishing any part of that sentence actually made her feel safer. “So did Sandor say who the backup bodyguard’s going to be?”
“He did,” Edaline agreed.
“Uh-oh. You just wrung your fingers,” Sophie noted. “Nothing good ever happens when adults do that.”
Elwin snorted. “She has a point.”
“It isn’t bad news,” Edaline insisted. “Just . . . try to keep an open mind—and remember that this is the reason Sandor decided to stay.”
“Now you’re really scaring me,” Sophie mumbled.
“It’s not scary,” Edaline promised, sitting back down beside her. “It’s just . . . odd.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Elwin chuckled. “Remember that thought I told you to put a pin in? Pretty sure you’re going to want to use that punishment at some point.”
“Okay, will you tell me already, so I stop imagining horrible things?” Sophie begged.
“All right,” Edaline said, dropping her hands to her lap to stop herself from wringing them. “Sandor decided that adding an extra goblin to your team wasn’t going to fix the problem. He thinks you need someone with a different skill set, different senses, a different approach to everything.”
“Okay, so . . . he wants my backup bodyguard to be an ogre?” Sophie guessed. “Will they be able to work together without killing each other?”
Edaline shrugged. “Sandor’s convinced the Council that he can handle it. And King Dimitar agreed to send one of his Mercadirs. So, I guess we’ll see. . . .”
“Why did you think that would freak me out?”
In a way, it felt a little inspiring to know that the two hostile species would be setting aside their prejudices to protect her.
But Edaline and Elwin shared a look that definitely couldn’t be good.
“Well . . . while everyone was discussing the advantages of bringing in an ogre,” Edaline said carefully, “Sandor realized that each of the intelligent species had something unique and essential they could offer if they were willing to serve.”
It took Sophie another second to process what that meant.
“Please tell me I’m not going to be stuck with four bodyguards.”
Edaline shook her head. “Five.”
“FIVE?” Sophie repeated. “What does that even mean? I’ll have Sandor, an ogre, a dwarf, a troll, and . . .”
“A gnome,” Edaline finished for her.
Sophie didn’t know where to begin.
Or, maybe she did. “Gnomes aren’t fighters.”
The child-size creatures were much more plantlike than animal, drawing nourishment from the sun and requiring almost no sleep. Their efficiency was legendary, and the produce they grew surpassed anything Sophie had ever tasted, but . . . gnomes spent most of their time singing to trees. They definitely weren’t warriors. In fact, they lived in the Lost Cities because the ogres starved them out of their homeland.
“Elves aren’t fighters either,” Elwin reminded her.
“Yeah, but—”
“It was Flori’s idea,” Edaline jumped in. “And she was very determined.”
“Flori?” Sophie repeated, wishing she’d misheard.
The tiny female gnome was one of Sophie’s favorites.
But . . . she was Calla’s great-great-grandniece.
Sophie should be protecting her.
“Flori volunteered when she overheard Sandor and Grady discussing your security,” Edaline explained. “She also gave quite a memorable demonstration of the methods she’d use to defend you. From what I hear, don’t ever upset her when you’re near any tree roots.”
Sophie had to smile at that.
But it faded as soon as she tried to imagine sweet, green-toothed Flori leaving her peaceful spot in the shade of Calla’s Panakes tree and facing down the Neverseen. Calla had sacrificed herself to save the rest of her species from a deadly plague. Sophie doubted she’d want her favorite niece to put herself in so much danger.
Also: Having a gnome and an ogre serving together was a recipe for every possible kind of disaster.
“Does Flori realize she’ll be working side by side with one of King Dimitar’s Mercadirs?” Sophie asked.
“She does. And she said that if the ogre’s willing to risk their life to protect you, she’s willing to fight at their side. Sandor also made it clear to King Dimitar that whoever he sends needs to view a goblin as a leader and a gnome as an equal—along with a dwarf and a troll.”
“You okay?” Elwin asked, waving a hand in front of Sophie’s face after a stretch of silence.
“Yeah. I’m just . . . trying to picture it.”
She could see herself with Sandor and Flori—and it wasn’t that hard to imagine a dwarf and an ogre standing there too.
But a troll?
She’d only seen trolls three times since she’d arrived in the Lost Cities, and each time they’d been drastically different creatures.
At Kenric’s planting, the trolls had wet, grayish-green skin and stood peacefully among the crowd in the Wanderling Woods. But in someone’s memory, she’d watched a much larger, much more rabid troll disembowel two human teenagers. And at the ogre Peace Summit, she’d been introduced to Empress Pernille, who reminded her of a tiny Muppet with a potbelly, fuzzy skin, and an upturned nose.
Apparently, trolls aged in reverse, which must explain the discrepancies. But it didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
“It really won’t be as weird as you’re thinking,” Edaline promised.
“I’m pretty sure it’ll be worse. I mean . . . everyone’s barely gotten used to Ro, and now I’m going to show up with a troll? How’s the Council going to explain that? I thought they didn’t want people to know I was attacked.”
“By the time you’re out in public with your new security team, people will know that something happened. And Sandor will be training the guards to keep a lower profile. They’re supposed to arrive at Havenfield tomorrow. That way he’ll be able to organize them before you get there.”
Sophie wasn’t sure what to say.
Edaline scooted closer. “I’m sure this feels like a lot—and it is. But Sandor’s convinced it’s going to keep you safe. And I’ve never seen him so determined. He’s checked every single thing you own for any sign of trackers or ogre enzymes—and swept every inch of Havenfield with reveldust. Good news: He didn’t find any traces of ethreium—or any other ogre enzymes. Same goes for Magnate Leto’s sweep of Foxfire.”
Which of course meant the bad news was: They had no idea if the Neverseen had another way of tracking her.
“And King Dimitar sent over the voracillius we needed to get rid of the ethreium on your skin,” Elwin jumped in. “I already brushed it on, so all you have to do is wash it off. I have a basin and some sponges ready to go whenever you want them—and there’s a curtain that lowers around your cot to give you some privacy.”
“I brought fresh clothes, too.” Edaline added. “I couldn’t find any tunics that would fit over your bandages, but the gnomes helped me make some adjustments to a few that I’m hoping weren’t your favorites. So let me know when you’re ready and I’ll help you get undressed.”
Sophie had thought nothing could be more embarrassing than the sparkly green dragon costume she’d had to dance around in—and all the slithery choreography—during the Foxfire Opening Ceremonies a few weeks earlier.
But this was definitely worse.
“I know it’s hard having people take care of you,” Edaline said gently. “But . . . that’s what family’s for.”
She had a point.
Sophie might not remember to call Edaline and Grady “Mom” and “Dad” very often—but that wasn’t because she didn’t think of them that way. It just came from the strangeness of being born and raised by humans, then moved to a new world and adopted by elves, all while knowing that somewhere out there were two more “parents” who’d donated their DNA to Project Moonlark but didn’t want her to know who they were.
She could never let herself forget how lucky she was to have ended up in such a loving, supportive home despite all of that insanity.
“I can help with the bath, too,” Edaline offered, “since it’s going to be difficult with only one arm.”
“Uh . . . is this a bad time?” Tam asked from the doorway, his silver-blue eyes darting around the room like he wasn’t sure where to look. “Elwin said to head here straight after study hall, but . . .”
“It’s fine!” Sophie said, pulling her covers up higher, even though there was absolutely no reason to. “We were just . . .”
She glanced at Edaline, who stood up to give her some space.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” Sophie told Tam. “You’re here! Let’s talk about Shade stuff!”
Linh peeked her head over his shoulder. “This is fun! I never get to see Tam blush!”
She pinched her brother’s cheeks, and Tam rolled his eyes and stalked into the Healing Center, with Linh giggling right behind him.
The similarities between the twins were always super noticeable—same silver-blue eyes and silver-tipped black hair and dramatic features. And their matching green Level Four uniforms definitely added to the resemblance. But so did the way Linh carried herself ever since she’d saved Atlantis. She was no longer the shy, quiet girl fighting a constant battle against her power. Now she moved with a confiden
ce that looked a whole lot like swagger—though her pink cheeks paled when she got a look at Sophie’s bandaged arm.
“It looks worse than it is,” Sophie promised.
“I hope so,” Linh whispered. Her chin trembled when she noticed Fitz’s broken leg. “Now I know why Biana’s ready to start stabbing things.”
“Yeah, bring on the weapons,” Tam agreed.
“You shouldn’t waste your talent on such ordinary defenses,” a statuesque female told him as she strode into the room, trailed by Magnate Leto. Her gown and cape were the whitest white Sophie had ever seen—almost glowing against her warm brown skin, and her height alone would’ve made her intimidating. But paired with the angled crop of her shiny black hair and the way her eyes somehow changed from light to dark blue as she moved, Sophie found herself fighting an inner war between wanting to stare and wanting to shrink away.
“This is Lady Zillah,” Tam explained. “My Shade Mentor.”
“Forgive me,” Lady Zillah said in a soft, breathy voice that didn’t match her piercing stare. “I realize I wasn’t invited to this meeting. But ever since Tam described the attack, I’ve been longing to test my theory.”
“What theory?” Tam asked.
“Patience,” she told him as she stretched out her hands.
Her fingers had long curved nails—but they weren’t black, thankfully. They looked like they’d been dipped in gold.
And as she squinted at Sophie with her strange, shifting eyes, Sophie definitely understood why Tam had described her as “intense.” She fought the urge to fidget—or tug on her itchy eyelashes—and was nearly ready to give in when Lady Zillah clapped her hands and shouted, “I knew it!”
“I’m assuming you’re going to explain?” Magnate Leto said when Lady Zillah moved to Sophie’s side and waved her hand over Sophie’s bandaged arm.
“I can feel the echoes so clearly,” she whispered. “Here”—she pointed to Sophie’s right hand. “And here”—she moved her finger toward Sophie’s forehead.
Sophie, Elwin, and Edaline all exchanged a look.
“Echoes?” Elwin repeated. “Is that the reason for the anomalies I’m seeing?”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 14
