He actually might be. He knows he’s going back to that cell if he doesn’t convince everyone he’s a better person now. But wait—how did you beat him in base quest? Are you off your crutches?
No—I’m just getting better at levitating. I . . . kinda had to after I got tangled in a chandelier my first night home.
Seriously?
Sophie cracked up as she tried to imagine that.
Oh, it was way more humiliating than what you’re thinking, he told her, sharing his actual memories of the way the strings of crystals seemed to wrap around him like sparkly tentacles.
How did you even manage to do that? she wondered.
No idea. I was just trying to get upstairs and I launched myself too high, and then my sleeve got caught and I tried to untangle it and next thing I knew Biana was collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles and my dad was calling for the gnomes. It took five of them to free me. They had to stand on each other’s shoulders in a giant gnome stack.
Sophie was laughing so hard that Sandor peeked his head into her room, probably making sure she wasn’t losing her mind.
I wish I’d been there, she told Fitz.
Me too. You probably could’ve floated up there and helped me. My parents were too busy laughing with Biana.
All humor was gone from the last sentence, and there was a distinctly bitter edge to the thought. It reminded Sophie of what Keefe said about Fitz’s family being changed forever—which made her realize she hadn’t told him about Orem.
It’s a long shot, she added after she’d explained everything that Keefe had told her. But if you have time, it might be worth seeing what you can learn about him.
I guess Though I don’t see what Orem would have to do with anything.
Well . . . if Luzia’s his mom, he would’ve lived at Everglen, wouldn’t he? Sophie wondered.
Yeah, that’s probably true.
She could feel his thoughts spinning, but he didn’t seem to know where to go with any of them. And neither did she.
I’ll see what I can dig up, he told her. And we could always try to talk to Orem at the Celestial Festival in a few weeks.
True. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.
Same. His mind circled back to the Tarina conversation. And . . . thanks.
For what?
For trusting me with that huge secret. I know you didn’t plan to tell me—but you could’ve freaked out a lot more than you did when you realized I knew.
I’m actually kind of relieved, she admitted. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.
I get that. So if you need anything—I’m here.
So am I, she promised.
I know. And . . . I’m really glad you are, because . . . you’re the only person I trust.
She sucked in a breath, miraculously managing to last until they’d said good night and their connection was severed before she switched to full-fledged-flutter mode, replaying his words over and over.
You’re the only person I trust.
The ONLY person.
And she knew—knew—it was something he could say to a close friend.
But it hadn’t felt like that.
It felt . . . significant.
And for once, she didn’t talk herself out of that hope.
Instead, she drifted off to sleep, letting herself dream that he meant something more.
THIRTY-TWO
TIME SHAPED INTO A ROUTINE.
Morning check-ins with Silveny. Evening check-ins with Fitz. Training lessons sandwiched in between—wearing Sophie out both mentally and physically, but never setting her back. She tried hailing Dex a few times, but he was always busy training with Tinker. She tried getting the information Keefe needed, but Bo brought new meaning to the word “evasive.” And there were lots of Elwin exams in the mix. Lots of medicine. Lots of tiny improvements—all building to the moment when Elwin decided that Sophie could finally go without her sling.
Her arm felt scrawny and weak, hanging like a foreign object at her side. And she still couldn’t do a whole lot with it.
But her reflection in the mirror was back to normal, so she tried to celebrate that victory.
Fitz was freed from his crutches as well, moving with only a slight limp—which Elwin had promised wasn’t permanent.
And Fitz and Biana’s time playing nice with Alvar slowly wound to an end.
Four days left.
Then three.
Two.
One.
And yet, despite all that time and effort, none of them had much to show for their first ten days home.
Fitz hadn’t found any cracks in Alvar’s new attitude, and he and Biana hadn’t learned anything useful about Orem. Sophie hadn’t convinced Silveny to come in for an exam. And Mr. Forkle still hadn’t gotten back to her about the trolls—or the meeting with Fintan—so both of those were still in a holding pattern.
The only thing Sophie had managed to do once she could use her right hand again was tackle a big chunk of her makeup Foxfire assignments, despite the fact that her writing looked like a three-year-old’s. She could tell a return to school was drawing close on the horizon, and she wanted to be prepared—or as prepared as she could be for the questions she wouldn’t be able to answer about where she’d been and what had happened to her. Not to mention the stares and whispers as the world saw the multispeciesial muscle shadowing her every move.
She was trying to imagine what it would be like to step into the glass pyramid for morning orientation when Flori wandered into her bedroom—or Sophie assumed it was Flori. She couldn’t see the tiny gnome beyond the mountain of clothes she was carrying.
“Okay,” Flori said, dropping the pile on Sophie’s bed. “Your new fighting clothes are ready! What do you think?”
There wasn’t a single gown in the mix, which automatically earned Sophie’s undying devotion. But more important: There were so. Many. Pockets.
Zippered pockets lining each pant leg. Slim pockets hidden inside the waistband. And each tunic was full of secret compartments: under the sash, hidden in the sleeves, tucked under the collars. Plus lots more pockets hidden in the capes. Even the tops of the boots had pockets—and no sign of heels. And the designs were streamlined and simple—the tunics a little shorter to keep them out of the way, the pants stretchier to allow for a wider range of motion. Darker, deeper colors to help her blend in. No jewels. No lace. Nothing decorative—unless it hid a pocket.
It was basically Sophie’s dream wardrobe—since jeans and T-shirts weren’t really an elvin thing.
And even her Level Four uniforms had been altered to hide as many secrets as they could fit.
“It’s all perfect,” Sophie promised, ducking into her closet to change into a pair of the new gray pants and a simple navy tunic. No one would be able to tell by looking at her that she could now carry at least twenty different gadgets and weapons with her everywhere she went. But she felt fierce.
“I can make you regular holsters if you want to carry a larger weapon, like a sword,” Flori offered when Sophie returned to her bedroom, “and I designed the tunics to fit over a breastplate, in case you decide you want hidden armor.”
“You thought of everything,” Sophie told her. “Thank you—I’m sure this was a ton of work.”
Flori’s cheeks flushed. “Anything to help the moonlark.” She scooped up a two-tone gray cape—lighter on the outside, darker on the underside—and helped Sophie clasp it around her shoulders with Tinker’s null. “There. Now you’re ready to take on the world.”
“Uh, I thought this was where all the training was happening—but I guess I’m here for dress-up time?” a familiar voice said from Sophie’s doorway.
Sophie spun around to find Marella watching her with folded arms. The blond, pixielike girl was what most would describe as petite—but Marella’s feisty attitude was anything but small. Her ice blue eyes narrowed as she studied Sophie, and Sophie tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. Their friendship had al
ways been very on again, off again. And it was highly possible that Sophie’s absence over the last few weeks had driven another wedge between them.
“Interesting welcome party you’ve got downstairs,” Marella told her, twisting one of the tiny braids scattered throughout her long, wavy hair. “The troll won’t stop asking Tam questions. And the ogre’s glaring daggers at Linh. I’m guessing he’s realized she’s the one who flooded Ravagog.”
Sophie blinked. “Tam and Linh are here?”
“Yep. And Wylie. He’s busy glaring back at your ogre for glaring at Linh. So there’s, like, a fifty-fifty chance we’re going to find a scuffle when we head back down. That’s why Sandor sent me up to get you.”
Sophie headed for the stairs. “What are you guys doing here?”
“I told you—we want in on your training. We’d been meeting at Everglen with Biana and Woltzer, but then that place became a prison. And Lovise was supposed to take over at Dex’s house, but he’s been off doing Technopath things. So we’ve been practicing as much as we can at Tam and Linh’s place, but we haven’t had anyone to teach us, so we’re not making a whole lot of progress. I’m sure you can imagine our surprise when we found out you’ve been getting private lessons and didn’t bother to invite us.”
She layered on the irritation nice and thick, and Sophie stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to face her. This was the kind of thing they needed to settle as soon as possible.
Sophie was all set to spew out a bunch of excuses about how she was only training for a limited amount of time every day. But . . .
She could’ve arranged for everyone else to train at her house too.
“Sorry,” she said instead. “I . . . should’ve reached out.”
Marella nodded. “I know I’m not part of your little core group, but—”
“That wasn’t it.” Sophie focused on stretching her clumsy, healing fingers. “I’ve been feeling so behind, knowing you guys were all training while I was stuck in the Healing Center. I guess I wanted to try to catch up.”
Marella twisted another braid. “You’re not the only one who feels behind, you know. At least you can actually train in your fifty zillion abilities.”
The reminder hit home.
Marella had secretly manifested as a Pyrokinetic a few months earlier, and training was technically illegal—though she’d decided to ignore that law to make sure the power didn’t get out of control, like it had for Brant. But without another Pyrokinetic to train with, the lessons weren’t as helpful as they could be. And if she ever got caught . . .
“I’m really sorry,” Sophie told her. “I was being selfish. You guys can train here as much as you want.”
“You sure your bodyguards will let us? Forkle failed to mention your scary new entourage when he told me you were training. I don’t think they like us.”
“You’ve talked to Mr. Forkle?” Sophie asked. “Did he say . . . anything else?”
“Nope. And way to be smooth about whatever it is you don’t want to tell me.”
“I—”
“Relax. I’m sure I don’t want to know. All I want is to train—so if you can convince your daunting defenders to include us in their lessons, that’d be awesome. And I’ll forgive you for ignoring us if you tell me one thing.” She grinned when Sophie nodded. “So all that one-on-one time with Fitz in the Healing Center—anything happen?”
Sophie’s face burned, and she looked away, mumbling the only answer she could truthfully give. “We’re friends.”
“Still in denial—got it,” Marella said. “You guys seriously need to make it official. It’s getting kind of ridiculous. Plus, you’re not the only one who’d be happy to snatch that up, you know? So unless there’s someone else . . .”
Sophie turned to head down the stairs, done with this conversation.
Marella blocked her. “Just promise me you’re not going to get all ‘I don’t know who I love’ and spend months angsting about it, ’kay? ’Cause I might have to smack you.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “We’d better get down there before Bo gives Linh the same speech he gave me the first time I met him. I don’t think Tam would take it as well as I did.”
“There’s a Bo and a Ro?” Marella clarified.
“Yep—and if you’re looking for gossip, you should focus on them. They have some sort of weird history, but neither of them will tell us what it is. Keefe even made a bet with Ro about it—that’s why he’s not here. If he comes to Havenfield before I find out the story, Ro gets one unlimited dare.”
She was starting to wonder if that’d been Ro’s larger plan—to avoid Bo as long as she possibly could.
“Sounds like you’ve had no problem staying in touch with Keefe,” Marella noted as she headed down the stairs. “Why does that not surprise me?”
Sophie ignored her, trying to cool her heated cheeks before she had to face the rest of her friends. But she was pretty sure she was still bright red when she reached the main room, where Tarina was in the middle of asking Tam another question—which he looked pretty fidgety about—and Sandor was carefully monitoring the stare-down between Linh, Wylie, and Bo.
“Oh good!” Sophie said, clapping her hands to break the tension and forcing some enthusiasm into her voice. “You guys have met! Does that mean we can skip introductions and get right to discussing a training plan?”
Bo shook his head. “I never agreed to train the girl who wiped out half my city.”
Linh didn’t cower at the accusation—but she did scoot ever so slightly closer to Wylie. And Wylie moved a little in front of her as Tam crossed the room to stand at his sister’s side.
Sophie joined them, standing as tall as she could when she told Bo, “Linh was only there that day because I asked her to be. And if you want to talk about why we had to sneak into Ravagog, I can call Flori down here and she can tell you why her great-great-grandaunt had to sacrifice herself.”
Bo locked his jaw.
“Like you said,” Sophie told him, “we don’t have to be friends. But Linh has risked her life over and over to help protect me. So if she wants training to defend herself, I’m going to find someone willing to help.”
“I’ll train her,” Tarina volunteered, making her way closer. “I’ll train them all, if you want.” Her eyes shifted to Tam and she told him, “And forgive my earlier enthusiasm. I’ve heard so many legends about those who control darkness, and I’ve always wondered how many were true. And you,” she said to Wylie. “You’re another Flasher, aren’t you?”
Wylie frowned. “How did you know?”
“There’s a slight aura around you that the physician had as well. I doubt your eyes can see it. My species is particularly sensitive to light.”
“Huh,” Wylie said, holding up his hand and squinting at it.
Sophie used the opportunity to take a longer look at him, searching for lingering injuries. She hadn’t seen Wylie since that horrible day in the desert—so she hadn’t had a chance to talk to him after the attack. She cleared her throat and blurted out, “By the way, I never thanked you for saving me that day.”
Wylie’s gaze dropped to his feet. “It’s okay. I never thanked you for what you did to protect me, so I think we’re even.”
Sophie stared at her healing hand. “They haven’t come after you again?”
He shook his head. “Our new house is well guarded—and pretty impossible to find. But that’s also why I’ve been training. Next time they show up, I’m getting some payback.”
“As long as Sophie’s home, I’m here and happy to train,” Tarina assured him. “Same goes for all of you. We can start today, if you want.”
“Actually, I’ll be covering their first lesson,” Sandor jumped in. “There are a few fundamentals I’d like to begin with.”
The glance he gave Sophie immediately conjured memories of splattering red, and she felt more than a little sorry for her friends.
“Would you be willing to prepare the dummy you designed?
” Sandor added, directing the question to someone behind Sophie, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Flori standing on the stairs.
But the tiny gnome didn’t seem to hear him.
She didn’t seem to hear anyone.
She stood frozen, one foot raised like she’d paused in the middle of taking a step. Eyes focused on Tam.
“You okay?” Sophie asked, then had to call Flori’s name three times before Flori blinked and nodded.
“Sorry,” Flori murmured, swaying softly as she made her way down the rest of the stairs, passing Sophie and heading straight for Tam. “That melody . . . I’ve felt whispers of it before.”
She waved her arms around, and Tam’s eyebrows crunched together.
“Am I supposed to know what that means?” he asked.
“I don’t,” Sophie admitted.
Flori swayed harder, whispering something under her breath.
“What was that?” Sandor asked her.
Flori blinked. “Nothing really. It’s just . . . he’s carrying a rhythm. Not a sound—more of a pulse. And I’ve felt it before.” She swayed again for a few beats before turning to Sophie. “It’s the same pulse you carry in your echoes. But his is much stronger.”
“Tam’s been training with shadowflux,” Sophie remembered. “So maybe that’s what you’re sensing?”
“Is that bad?” Linh added, sharing a look with her brother.
“No,” Flori promised. “It’s very helpful.”
“Where are you going?” Sandor asked as Flori headed for the front door.
“To test a theory. I think I know where to find the song to quiet the echoes.”
• • •
“Where are we going?” Sophie asked Flori as she followed her away from Havenfield’s main pastures—with her friends and bodyguards right behind them. “I thought you said a new song would need to be written, not found.”
“It does,” Flori called over her shoulder. “But there’s nothing truly new in this world. Only new combinations and interpretations. Creation is about building upon what exists and making it your own. And I haven’t known where to start. But I think I do now.”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 40
