But none of it mattered.
She was home.
She could train.
Even better—she could shower.
As soon as Sandor gave her the all clear, she nearly sprinted to her bathroom, wrestled her way out of her sling, and prepared to set a new world record for longest, hottest, steamiest shower.
But before she stepped under the colorful streams of water, she worked up the courage to study her reflection. There were no mirrors in the Healing Center, so she hadn’t really seen herself since the attack. And she’d been imagining . . . bad things. So her knees wobbled with relief when the girl staring back at her didn’t look all that battered.
She was a little pale. A little haggard. A little scrawnier than she had been. And her injured arm definitely showed signs that she was still healing: fading bruises and darker blue veins, and the way it didn’t hang as straight as her other arm. There were also a few thin white lines along her right hand’s knuckles, and she had a feeling they wouldn’t be going away.
“But they didn’t break me,” she said out loud as she stepped under the colorful streams and let the hot water rinse away the grime and tangles.
Showering had always been a way to center herself.
A way to regroup and start again.
“They didn’t break me,” she said again. “They’ll never break me.”
She wasn’t the weak, predictable girl the Neverseen thought she was.
She was Sophie Foster.
She was the moonlark.
And starting tomorrow, she was learning to fight back.
THIRTY
SHOULD YOU BE LYING LIKE that?” Edaline asked when she came to tuck Sophie in.
“Probably not,” Sophie admitted. But she couldn’t bring herself to shift from her current position: limbs stretched out like a starfish across the top of her humongous bed.
After weeks confined to a narrow cot, she was soaking up all the space she could get.
“How about we prop you up and support that arm?” Edaline suggested, which was definitely not what Sophie wanted, and Edaline seemed to know that. “Okay, what if I remind you that sitting up will make it easier for you to cuddle with the little friend I brought?”
She held up the tiny cage she’d been hiding behind her back—Iggy’s cage—and Sophie relented, slowly pulling herself into a position more like the one she’d been stuck sitting in for days and days as Edaline set the tiny imp free, and he flitted to Sophie’s lap.
Iggy’s squeaky purr filled the room as he nuzzled against her fingers while she stroked his soft fur—which was not the color Sophie remembered it being.
“I’m assuming Dex was here?” she asked, admiring Iggy’s bright yellow fluff, which sparkled like he’d been coated in a thick layer of glitter.
Edaline smiled. “He stopped by yesterday. He wanted it to be your welcome home present—and he seemed pretty excited with how the sparkles turned out. Apparently they glow in the dark.”
“Really?” Sophie snapped her fingers to turn off the star-shaped lights dangling from the ceiling, and sure enough, Iggy had a shimmery halo around him—kind of like a lake reflecting moonlight, but thankfully subtle enough that it wouldn’t be annoying when she wanted to sleep.
“Dex never fails to amaze,” Edaline said as Sophie turned the lights on again and gave Iggy’s chubby tummy a good belly rub. “I’m stunned he was able to spend so much time with you today without spoiling the surprise.”
“Well, Tinker’s place was pretty much a Technopath’s dreamland,” Sophie told her, realizing she’d need to check on Dex in the morning and find out how working with Tinker had gone.
She’d have to check on Fitz, too, she realized. He still hadn’t reached out—which didn’t feel like a good sign.
And now that she was thinking about it, she also hadn’t heard from Keefe all day.
That probably meant he was up to something she wouldn’t like.
“Will you be able to sleep?” Edaline asked, tracing her finger over the worry pucker that had formed between Sophie’s eyebrows. “Elwin said you haven’t been taking any sedatives, but he gave me some just in case.”
She set two bright pink vials on the table beside Sophie’s bed.
“Silveny’s been keeping my dreams nightmare-free,” Sophie promised.
“That’s what I hear,” Edaline said. “How’s she doing?”
“She seems okay. Though I think the pregnancy’s starting to make her pretty tired. And she still won’t agree to come in for a checkup.”
Edaline frowned. “Well . . . I guess we’ll just have to keep trying. And remember that lots of animals in the wild have babies without needing our help.”
That would’ve been a whole lot more comforting if Silveny wasn’t the only female alicorn left, as far as anyone knew.
What if the reason the species was almost gone was because of complications during birth or something?
“There has to be something we can bribe her with,” Sophie decided. “Some treat she won’t be able to resist.”
“I’ll talk to the gnomes,” Grady said from her doorway, “see if they have any ideas.”
“Good idea,” Sophie told him. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” he said, making his way over just in time to catch a whiff of the toxic burp Iggy had unleashed. He coughed from the stench as he added, “Your mom and I are here for whatever you need—and not just for Silveny.”
“We know you’ve got a lot to adjust to right now, between your recovery and the training,” Edaline jumped in.
“And we know it’s going to be challenging for you to have so many people following you around, monitoring every little thing you do—and not for the usual reasons someone your age wouldn’t be happy about that,” Grady told her. “We get that you’re not dealing with the usual teenage secrets. You’re facing some pretty grown-up problems, kiddo, and you have some pretty major responsibilities, and we understand that sometimes that means you can’t be as open about what you have going on as we might want you to be.”
The way he emphasized certain words made her wonder if this was his subtle way of letting her know that he hadn’t been fooled by Tarina’s explanation for their Trollish conversation.
But if it was, he didn’t say.
He just reached for her good hand and told her, “I realize how tricky it is to be the moonlark, dealing with classified secrets when you have bodyguards shadowing you and parents asking too many questions. And we never want to get in the way—or put you in a position where you feel forced to lie to us. So we want to make you a deal: If you promise to keep someone informed about whatever you have going on—and I mean an adult with a little more experience, not just one of your friends—the rest of us, including your bodyguards, will trust you to handle it and try our best not to ask you questions. I’m sure we won’t always be able to stop ourselves from trying to figure out what you’re up to. But if we start to get in your way, tell us and we’ll back off. And know that if you choose to rely on either of us”—he pointed to himself and Edaline—“you don’t have to worry that we’ll judge you or punish you for anything going on. Our help comes with no strings attached, and it’s always there if you want it.”
“Thank you,” Sophie whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. “Sandor seriously agreed to that?”
“I did,” Sandor called from the hallway.
“But I thought secrets hinder your ability to protect me,” she reminded him.
“They do,” he agreed. “But . . . our situation has changed now that I’m not your sole protector. So I’m willing to allow that you might need to be more careful about what you share. But”—he peeked his head through the doorway—“part of the reason that works is because I’m expecting you to hold true to the promise you made back when you were convincing me not to request reassignment. No sneaking away without me.”
“Or me,” Flori chimed in.
“Or me,” Tarina added.
“Or
me,” Bo demanded.
“Wow . . . there are a lot of you out there,” Sophie mumbled.
“We’ll divide up more once you’re asleep,” Sandor assured her. “But for now, we’re here to keep watch.”
Somehow that sounded more like they were there to keep her from leaving.
But she wasn’t going anywhere, so it didn’t really matter—or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself.
“It’ll get easier,” Edaline said, handing her Ella. “And just so you know, this policy applies to all the normal teenager things too. Tell us as little or as much as you like. But if you need us, we’re a safe space.”
“Except when it comes to boy stuff,” Grady added. “That we want to know.”
Sophie groaned.
Edaline laughed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Now that we’ve sufficiently embarrassed you, I think it’s time to let you rest. If you need anything, you know where to find us.”
“Thanks.”
They turned off the lights as they left, and Sophie decided to spend a few minutes snuggling with her glowing imp—even if his breath seemed extra stinky.
“Sorry I was gone so long,” she told him, scratching behind Iggy’s fuzzy ears. “I’ll try not to do it again.”
The light from his fur made his watery green eyes even brighter than normal—and as he stared intently at her, she wondered if he was trying to let her know he’d missed her. It was hard to tell, since he blasted out a bed-shaking fart a few seconds later that made at least two of her bodyguards cough all the way from the hallway.
And that fart was followed by another fart. And another. And another.
“Ugh—what have they been feeding you?” she asked, gagging as she stumbled out of bed and carried Iggy back to his cage. “Imp bonding time over!”
Iggy’s only answer was another fart, and she tossed a blanket over his cage, hoping it would help hold in the stench.
She could’ve sworn the sound Iggy made was a snicker.
“Need help getting back in bed?” Sandor called through her door.
“I’m good!” she promised. Though it took a lot longer than she wanted to get her arm situated the way it had been before, especially since all she wanted to do was curl up with Ella on her side.
Someday she’d sleep normally again.
But for the moment, she had to take care of herself.
Had to make sure—
Sophie?
For a second, she thought she must’ve imagined the crisp, accented voice. But it repeated again—louder this time.
SOPHIE?
Fitz? she transmitted back, her heart slamming against her ribs.
IT WORKED! his mind shouted. I CAN’T BELIEVE I PULLED IT OFF! Your blocking makes it WAY harder than connecting with Silveny—did you know that?
She didn’t. But it made sense.
How long have you been trying to reach me?
About fifteen minutes. It kinda gave me a headache, but I wanted to check in without anyone being able to eavesdrop, so I just kept searching for the tug and—
Tug? Sophie interrupted.
Yeah. Or maybe “pull” is a better word. I don’t know if it’s a Cognate thing, or just because your telepathy is so strong, but my thoughts always go straight to you.
Huh, Sophie thought, ordering her brain not to take those words and run wild with them. She knew he didn’t mean them the way they sounded.
But her heart refused to get the message and turned all fluttery. And her stomach decided to join in with a few annoying flips.
Sorry I didn’t check in earlier, he told her. Did I wake you?
No. Iggy’s been terrorizing me with toxic farts. I swear he’s been saving them up.
He laughed. Sounds about right. Still glad to be home, though?
Totally.
Is it weird being there with all the new bodyguards?
Yeah, she admitted, trying to keep her thoughts far away from Tarina, since she’d promised Mr. Forkle she wouldn’t tell anyone yet. But I’m sure it’s not as weird as what you’re dealing with. How’s it going with your brother?
Ugh. It’s been rough. I knew it would be. But it’s even worse than I imagined. Alvar’s just so . . . happy. Like today. He stopped in the middle of his walk because he HAD to smell all the flowers. And then he got all choked up about how beautiful they were and how amazing it is to smell something that isn’t swampy and rancid, and my parents just stood there, eating it up. I swear, if my mom wasn’t trying to pretend that she’s being objective, she would’ve run over and given him a hug after the flower thing. And my dad already stopped asking questions. He hit Alvar with, like, three how-could-yous, but Alvar said, “I don’t remember,” and my dad dropped it. I mean . . . seriously?
I’m sorry, Sophie told him. That sounds super stressful.
It is—but don’t worry, I’m keeping my temper under control. I almost lost it when they first opened the gates to let Alvar in, but I’d told Biana to kick me to distract me. That got me through—plus a couple of wicked bruises. Word of advice, never let Biana near your shins.
Noted, Sophie said, trying to match his light tone, even though she could tell his was totally forced. So . . . sounds like you’ve had to spend some time with Alvar. Does that mean you weren’t able to make a deal with your parents?
No, I was. They just drove a harder bargain than I expected. They made me and Biana promise to cooperate for the next ten days and do whatever they tell us to do. But once the ten days are up, they can’t ask us to do anything else, so . . . it’s worth it, I guess.
What kind of stuff are they having you do?
So far, just the Council’s assignments. They wanted us to share some childhood memories with him to see if it triggered anything. And tomorrow I think we’re supposed to play games.
Games?
I know—don’t even get me started. That’s the brilliant plan from our illustrious Council: Make us play base quest with a murderer. His mind went quiet for a second, and she wondered if he was taking a deep breath. At least Councillor Oralie will be here to monitor everything tomorrow. Maybe she’ll see through his Mr. Perfect act.
And it’s only ten days, Sophie added. Nine, really, since today is already over.
Yeah. Kinda sounds like forever, though.
I bet. If you need to talk, I’m here. ANYtime, okay?
Thanks, he thought quietly. I’m sure I’ll take you up on that.
I hope you do If you’re too tired to reach out like this, I’ll always have an Imparter with me.
So will I, he said. If anything happens—I want to know about it.
Same with you.
He sighed. Nothing’s going to happen here. Alvar’s going to keep up his perfect little act as long as he possibly can—unless I can get him to break.
How are you going to do that?
Still working on it. But if I have to spend nine more days with him, I’m going to hit him with everything I have.
• • •
“You call that a dagger?” Bo asked the next morning, sneering at the weapon Sandor had just handed to Sophie—which was, admittedly, much smaller than she’d been imagining.
The blade was maybe two inches long, and barely wider than a butter knife.
“This is a dagger,” Bo said, drawing a dark blade as long as his forearm from a sheath hidden somewhere in the back of his armor.
“No, this is a dagger,” Tarina countered, pulling an even longer silver weapon from somewhere among the tangled threads of her mossy garment, with a blade that spiraled like a corkscrew.
“And those are not for beginners,” Sandor argued. “Let’s also not forget that Sophie is training with her weaker hand.”
“But I have Tinker’s bracelet,” Sophie reminded him.
“Which improves your strength, not your coordination,” he corrected. “I’d like you to get through today’s lesson without losing any fingers. Besides, any soldier worth the air they’re breathing can fight with
any weapon.”
“I’d be more willing to believe you,” Sophie noted, “if you weren’t holding that.”
She pointed to Sandor’s dagger, which looked more like half a sword.
Tarina snorted. “I like this girl.”
“Fine,” Sandor said as he marched back to the satchel he’d brought to the pastures that morning. He returned a few seconds later holding a weapon identical to hers—which looked almost comical in his massive hand. “This blade may be small. But it’s just as deadly as any of these other daggers. Never underestimate a weapon. I could fight anyone—and win—with this dagger.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Bo told him.
Sandor didn’t blink. “I’d have your surrender in less than three minutes.”
Bo’s lips curled into a vicious smile. “Prove it.”
“Prove it later,” Sophie jumped in. “I only get an hour for training, and I’m not wasting it watching you guys play Who’s the Better Bodyguard?”
“Correction: I love this girl,” Tarina informed them.
Sandor tilted his head to study Sophie. “You seem . . . eager.”
“Of course I am. I’ve been stuck in bed for weeks waiting for this, while all my friends trained without me. I have a ton of catching up to do.”
“Then I know exactly where to start this lesson.” He motioned for her to follow him over to the scarecrowlike dummy that Flori had assembled from lumpy sacks and twisted rags. It didn’t have a face, but someone had painted two unnervingly realistic blue eyes across the coarse fabric of the dummy’s head.
Sophie froze when she recognized them.
“Who painted those?” she whispered, sucking in a breath to keep the monster from waking. But she could feel the beast stretch its restless legs.
“I did,” Sandor told her. “I wanted to make sure these lessons feel real.”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 37
