“I bet. I’m starting to think things are never going to be the same in Vacker land.”
“I know. Especially if Alvar ends up living there permanently. I think that’s why Fitz is so determined to prove it’s all an act. He said he’s going to use the next nine days to break him—though I guess it’s down to eight now.”
Keefe blew out a breath. “See, but I don’t think Alvar’s faking.”
“Neither do I,” Sophie admitted. “I think . . . without his memories, he’s a different person—the person he should’ve been if something hadn’t made him go all creepy.”
“Do you really think anything could make him that creepy, though?” Keefe wondered. “Or do you think there was something in him that was just waiting to snap?”
“I have no idea.”
She also couldn’t decide which thought was scarier: that there could be something fundamentally evil in someone that guaranteed they’d turn bad someday, or the idea that any person, under the right circumstances, could end up a villain.
“I guess it all comes down to the reason Alvar switched sides,” she decided.
“Yep. I bet if we knew that, we could trigger at least some of his missing memories.”
“Too bad Biana’s been trying to understand what Alvar meant by ‘the Vacker legacy’ for months,” Sophie grumbled, “and hasn’t gotten anywhere.”
“I know. I’ve actually been using the mental exercises Tiergan taught me to dig through my memories of everything Alvar said while I was with the Neverseen, in case I missed any hints. So far, the only thing I can come up with is that he talked about Orem a few times. I mean, it wasn’t a big deal—mostly just Vacker gossip about how Orem didn’t get along with his mom. But . . . it might be worth seeing what else they can learn about the guy.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Sophie agreed, even though it felt like a long shot. “I’ll mention it the next time Fitz checks in.”
“Tell him I said hi,” Keefe added. “And . . . try to get some sleep. I know it won’t be easy after talking about all of this. But . . . you look pretty tired there, Foster. Everything okay? Need me to leap over there? I will—I don’t care if Ro wins the bet.”
She had no doubt that he would—and she didn’t deserve that kind of dedication.
“I’m good,” she promised. “Training is just . . . intense.”
“Elwin’s letting you train?”
She nodded but didn’t have the energy to explain—or to relive that horrible red splatter.
“Hmm,” Keefe said, his eyes narrowing as he squinted through the screen to study her. “Sounds like I need to head over there after Daddy’s little hugfest tomorrow.”
“I’m fine—don’t lose your bet. Today was just the first day. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
Or worse, depending on what Tarina had in mind.
Keefe tore a hand through his hair again. “I can tell there’s something you’re not telling me right now—but I’m not going to force you to talk about it. If you say you’re good, I’ll trust you.”
She held his stare through the Imparter screen as she told him, “I’m good.”
He nodded. “Just remember: the worrying thing you’re a master at? I’m pretty good at it too. So . . . don’t forget about me, okay?”
There was a rawness to the plea that tugged on Sophie’s heart hard enough to drag it into her throat.
“I won’t,” she promised. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”
• • •
Sophie waited up for Fitz as long as she could. But Sandor’s lesson had seriously wiped her out, and her chat with Keefe drained her last bit of energy. She could barely keep her eyes open by the time she decided to call it a day and reach out to Silveny.
Since the monster still hadn’t fully settled, she was definitely going to need help chasing away any nightmares. But when Silveny’s voice filled her head, the friendly alicorn sounded far less exuberant than usual.
In fact, her greeting sounded downright forced: Sophie! Friend! Hi!
What’s wrong? Sophie demanded.
Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!
I don’t believe you You sound exhausted.
Tired! Silveny admitted.
Sophie sorted through Silveny’s memories, searching for the source of her fatigue. But all the pregnant alicorn had done that day was graze—which seemed like it shouldn’t have left her so wiped out.
You NEED to come in for a checkup, Sophie told her—but of course Silveny responded with, Baby okay! Baby okay!
I hope that’s true, Sophie told her. But YOU’RE not okay. I really don’t think it’s normal for you to be this tired.
Normal! Normal! Normal!
Saying it doesn’t make it true. If you don’t feel up to coming to me, I can come to you. I promise I’ll bring Edaline—not Vika—and she’ll do a super-quick exam.
NO! NO! NO! Silveny argued, finding a burst of energy. NO EXAM! NO VISIT! NO!
Sophie reached up to rub her temples. You’re really getting ridiculous. You need to let us help you.
NO HELP! NO HELP! NO HELP!
But—
NO HELP! Silveny interrupted. JUST! NEED! SLEEP!
Sophie rubbed her temples a whole lot harder when Silveny turned it into a chant.
JUST! NEED! SLEEP!
JUST! NEED! SLEEP!
JUST! NEED! SLEEP!
FINE! Sophie shouted when she couldn’t take it anymore. Sleep tonight—but I’m checking on you in the morning, and if you’re not better . . .
Better morning! Better morning! Better morning! Silveny promised.
We’ll see, Sophie told her.
See. See. See.
Silveny’s mental voice faded almost to a whisper, like she’d used up the last dregs of her energy for that final outburst. So when she started to flood Sophie’s mind with dreams, Sophie tossed up a mental wall.
Not tonight, Sophie warned. You need to sleep without having to use any part of your brain for me.
But Sophie nightmares! Silveny reminded her.
I’ll be fine. Sophie grabbed one of the pink elixirs from the table beside her bed and chugged it before she could change her mind. There. I just took a sedative.
But—
No, Sophie interrupted. It’s already settled. Now PLEASE get some sleep.
THIRTY-ONE
SOPHIE! FRIEND! HI! SILVENY SAID the next morning, back to her usual energy level—which was an enormous relief. But it also meant the poor mama alicorn must’ve been wearing herself out trying to help Sophie with her dreams, and that needed to stop—immediately.
BUT SOPHIE NIGHTMARES! Silveny argued when Sophie broke the news.
I’ll be fine, Sophie assured her. The sedative worked perfectly.
She decided not to mention that she’d spent most of the night dreaming about sparkly pineapples dancing around in hot pink tutus while wearing giant sunglasses and smiling at her. She could live with the outlandish imagery if it kept Silveny strong and healthy.
We’re still going to check in every night, Sophie added—not making it optional. And if you try to ignore me, I WILL track you down—and bring Vika with me.
It wasn’t an idle threat. All of Silveny’s recent memories kept showing the same rolling seaside hills, which probably meant that was where the alicorns were currently staying. So all Sophie would have to do is jump into the void and picture those grass-covered dunes. Then her teleporting would take her straight to the alicorns.
She was tempted to grab Edaline and do exactly that—but that might freak Silveny out and make her teleport away, which wasn’t worth the risk.
So she would save it for a last resort, and hope that she could convince Silveny to see reason and agree to a checkup.
But first, Sophie had to survive Tarina’s training session.
Rest as much as you can, she told Silveny as she crawled out of bed, shaking her head to clear away the last of the fruity fog. I’ll reach out again later.
SOPHIE!
TALK! SOON!
• • •
The first thing Sophie noticed when she met her bodyguards out in the pastures was that Tarina wasn’t wearing her usual mossy garment. Instead she’d squeezed into a slippery black bodysuit that looked like she’d wrapped everything from her neck down in slimy seaweed.
The second thing Sophie noticed was that there was no target. The splattered scarecrow from the day before had disappeared, and Sophie definitely wasn’t going to miss it.
She just wasn’t sure what that meant for the third thing she spotted: a hefty satchel that Sandor was holding, filled with all the goblin throwing stars she’d spent the previous night polishing.
“Yesterday you proved that you have truly impeccable aim,” Tarina said as she shook some sort of blue powder onto her hand. She pressed her palm over her heart, leaving a bold, blue handprint on her bodysuit—then repeated the process to mark her stomach and thigh, then twisted to mark her back as she added, “But yesterday’s lesson was also somewhat deceptive. It’s incredibly rare in battle to be aiming at a stationary mark. Just like it’s rare to be stationary yourself. So today you’ll be practicing under much more realistic conditions. Behold your new targets!”
Tarina pointed to the blue handprints, then ran forward a few steps and dropped into a somersault before springing back to her feet with a leap that lifted her several feet off the ground.
Sophie glanced at Sandor. “She doesn’t want me to aim at her, does she?”
“Unfortunately, she does,” Sandor grumbled. “And I renew my objections to this plan!” he told Tarina. “I have a whole system I use to train for moving targets.”
“And we both know that no matter how great that system is, it will never fully capture the complexities of aiming at an enemy in motion,” Tarina countered. “Real enemies can pivot and leap and duck and dodge and roll.” She shifted her body through each movement as she spoke. “The trick is to learn to read body language, and to anticipate how the target will move. None of which can happen with dummies.”
“Dummies also can’t die if a weapon strikes the wrong place,” Bo noted. “The child is good—but she’s not as good as you think she is.”
“She’s better,” Tarina insisted. “Which is why I want you moving as well, Sophie. I realize your recovery might limit the amount of running you’re able to do. But it’s important for you to learn how to aim—and throw—without having to pause. So I need you to keep up with me today for as long as you’re physically able. I’ll call out which mark I want you to hit at random, and your job is to strike as quickly and accurately as you can.”
Sophie ignored the fact that even the thought of running made her want to sit down and never get up. Instead she turned back to Sandor. “We’re not using throwing stars then, right? We’re using splotchers or pebbles or something safer?”
“Wrong!” Tarina informed her. “You need to train with the actual weapons you’ll be using in battle, since the weight and motion will be different. Don’t worry—my suit will protect me.”
Sophie found that very hard to believe, particularly since: “It doesn’t cover your head.”
“Yes, that’s the one mark we won’t be practicing,” Tarina agreed, “for obvious reasons. I’ve gone for variety instead, targets in slightly less fatal locations that shouldn’t be your first choice in a battle. But once I help you master how to aim, you’ll be able to hit between the eyes without needing to practice that specifically.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sophie argued. “I meant . . . what if I miss?”
Tarina flashed all of her long white teeth. “I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t!”
Tarina laughed. “Yes, I should. I’m aware that there are risks. I’m also aware of your talent—and your commitment to keeping everyone safe. It’s why you’ll make a perfect ally someday.”
She said the last part in her chirpy language, so only Sophie could understand.
Sophie replied back the same way. “Making me hurt you isn’t going to convince me to form an alliance—it’s going to make me think you’re insane.”
“You won’t hurt me, Sophie. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. And this isn’t about the alliance. It’s my job as your bodyguard—and your trainer—to prepare you for battle to the best of my ability. And this is the best of my ability. You’ll see how well it works if you trust me.”
She switched back to the Enlightened Language as she added, “We start on three.”
“I don’t like this,” Sophie said to no one in particular.
“Neither do I,” Sandor agreed.
“You don’t have to like it,” Tarina told them. “But I do expect you to do it, Sophie. And if you don’t want to hurt me, I suggest you focus. Your first target is my back.”
She counted to three and took off toward the Cliffside gate at the edge of the pastures, glancing over her shoulder to see if Sophie had followed.
Sophie hadn’t.
“I’m not joking!” Tarina shouted. “Failure to participate in today’s lesson will have serious consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” Sophie asked.
“Best not to find out,” Sandor said as he handed Sophie the satchel of throwing stars. “I hope Tarina knows what she’s doing.”
So did Sophie.
She knew from polishing them the night before that the throwing stars had very sharp blades.
But Tarina repeated her command again, warning that it was Sophie’s last chance before she’d be punished. So Sophie slung the satchel over her shoulder and took off after her.
• • •
Wow, that looks . . . intense, Fitz mentally murmured after he’d reached out telepathically that evening.
Sophie had been far too exhausted to hide any of her recent memories, so he got to watch a vivid replay of her high-stakes training session. And she could feel his mind flinch every time her throws came terrifyingly close to disaster.
But Tarina had been saved each time by her amazing reflexes. Sophie had never seen anyone who moved the way Tarina did—as if her bones were made of rubber and could twist and bend and stretch all kinds of impossible ways.
Even Bo’s jaw dropped during some of the most harrowing near misses.
Sophie was also pretty sure that the times she’d managed to hit one of the targets were only because Tarina had let her.
Her troll bodyguard was that good.
And Sophie suspected that was the point of Tarina’s rather daring exercise.
She didn’t just want Sophie to trust her.
She wanted Sophie to be impressed.
As if the lesson had been designed to say, I trust you. You can trust me. And here’s why you want to be on my side and have me on yours.
And if that was Tarina’s plan, it . . . kind of worked.
The idea of an alliance felt a whole lot more urgent now that Sophie had a better understanding of the trolls’ capabilities.
If creatures that powerful felt they needed an ally among the elves, something big must be happening. And—
Wait—you’re forming a secret alliance with the trolls? Fitz interrupted, and Sophie’s heart screeched to a stop.
It’s okay, he promised. I’m not going to tell anybody. I know you forgot I was listening—I even tried to tune you out. But I still caught a few details and . . . wow.
Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache flared behind her eyes—probably her brain’s way of punishing her for being so careless. I haven’t decided what I’m doing. Mr. Forkle wanted to do some research to see if he could figure out why the trolls are asking me now, since timing seems to be a factor. And so far, he hasn’t gotten back in touch to let me know what he found.
So the Black Swan knows? Fitz clarified, flooding her mind with a blast of relief when she confirmed. Good. I definitely don’t think you should make this decision alone.
I won’t. It’s been hard enough hiding it from my friends. But Tarina didn’t want
me to tell anyone, and I figured you have so much going on with Alvar, and we aren’t Cognate training right now, and—
Hey, he said, waiting for her thoughts to trail off before he told her, You don’t have to explain. I get why you didn’t tell me.
You do?
Of course. This is huge. Like . . . treason huge.
Treason? Sophie repeated, and all her insides shriveled and twisted.
She hadn’t fully considered all the ramifications. But he was right—she was being asked to make an agreement with the leader of another species without telling the Council.
If it makes you feel better, Fitz told her, the Black Swan’s done that kind of stuff before. They’ve had dwarves helping with their cause for a while.
True. But that doesn’t mean King Enki was involved. And Empress Pernille definitely is. Tarina said one of their previous empresses was involved in the other alliance too.
What other alliance?
I don’t know. Tarina wouldn’t tell me much about it.
And since Sophie had already blown the secret, she went ahead and showed Fitz the replay of the entire conversation.
When the memory finished, he couldn’t seem to find any coherent words.
That’s how I felt, Sophie admitted. Part of me still wants to tell her, I’M ONLY FIFTEEN—CAN YOU PLEASE DUMP THIS HUGE RESPONSIBILITY ON SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY KNOWS WHAT THEY’RE DOING? But . . .
You’re the moonlark, Fitz finished for her.
She sighed. That’s what everybody keeps telling me At least Tarina gave me time to decide.
If there’s anything I can do to help . . .
Thanks. I might take you up on that—though you have enough to deal with right now.
Eh, I could use a distraction, trust me.
I take it things aren’t going any better with your brother?
Nope. I thought I might get him to slip up when I tagged him out in base quest, since he’s always been SUCH a sore loser. But he just laughed and told me, “Well played.” I swear it’s like he’s rehearsing all the perfect things to say.
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 39
