When Keefe finished his, he used his skewer to poke the flames, showering Sophie and Biana with rainbow-colored sparks that felt like cool splashes of water. Biana giggled, but Sophie had to force herself not to flinch as every spark flew, and her skin tingled with the memory of her burns.
I guess a bonfire wasn’t the best thing to invite you to, huh? Fitz transmitted as she rubbed her wrists
She winced.
What’s wrong?
Sorry, you just transmit really loud sometimes.
I do?
Yep. It’s like you’re screaming in my head.
His cheeks flushed. Or maybe it was the light of the aurenflare. Why didn’t you tell me? Is this any better?
Not really.
How about now?
A little.
You’re just saying that, aren’t you?
It’s not bad, really. It just takes a second to get used to.
He frowned. Do you want me to stop?
Of course not! It’s not a big deal.
Well, maybe Sir Tiergan can help me figure out what I’m doing wrong. You know about that, right?
Just saw it on my schedule today.
I guess it was my dad’s idea. He wants to see if Sir Tiergan can figure out why I can do this now. I keep telling him it’s because I’m super talented—he grinned—but my dad wants to make sure.
Make sure of what?
“Dude—will you guys quit it?” Keefe interrupted. “Normal people talk out loud.”
“Yeah, but this is Sophie,” Biana reminded him. “She never does anything the normal way.”
Everyone laughed—and not in a mean way—and Sophie did her best to smile. But paired with what Fitz had just said, she’d found a new reason to worry.
“Oh, this is the best part,” Biana said as the fire made a tiny pop! The tower of burning branches collapsed and a stream of rainbow flames erupted into the sky.
The fire split into flecks of light as it hit the atmosphere, spreading like fireworks. But they didn’t flash away—they lingered above them, surging brighter each second until they finally exploded with a blast of white light that burned Sophie’s eyes and triggered a headache so sharp she could barely breathe.
Are you okay? Fitz asked, and she had to fight not to cringe.
It’s just a headache. It’ll go away in a minute.
Does that happen a lot?
Sometimes, she admitted.
Have you told Elwin?
Not yet—but I’m sure it’s not a big deal.
I think you should tell him. What if something’s wrong?
I’m fine, she promised. And she tried to believe it.
But when she crawled into bed that night and closed her eyes, a thin halo glowed in her vision, like the light from the aurenflare had burned into her eyelids. And in the last restless moments between wake and sleep, with her head still pounding and her mind replaying all the strange events of the day, she found herself asking the same question Fitz had.
What if something’s wrong?
TWENTY
A BURST OF SHARP, COLD terror ripped Sophie from her nightmares, like her brain had just been stabbed with an icicle. She stumbled out of bed and ran to her door as Silveny filled her head with an image that made Sophie’s chest so tight she thought she might choke.
Figures in black cloaks, looming outside the enclosure, trying to get in.
This time Sophie didn’t argue when Sandor insisted she wait inside while he searched the pastures for any sign of intruders, and Grady and Edaline sat with her as she watched the door, tugging out loose eyelashes and trying not to imagine the kidnappers storming the house.
She jumped when the door slammed open, but it was only Sandor returning. His weapon was sheathed and he looked much more calm than Sophie had expected as he loomed in the doorway.
“Well?” Grady asked him.
“The alicorn is terrified and screeching whenever anything comes near her pen, but I could detect no unfamiliar scents or signs of intruders. The yard is clear. The Cliffside gate is locked. All seems normal.”
“But Silveny saw them!” Sophie could hear the hysteria in her voice, but she couldn’t stop it. “She sent me an image of black-cloaked figures.”
Edaline rubbed Sophie’s back. “Maybe Silveny had a nightmare. Weren’t the Hekses wearing dark clothes when they came for her?”
“Yes,” Sophie admitted.
“Well, then maybe she relived that in a dream tonight and it scared her.”
That did sort of make sense, but . . . “It seemed so real.”
“Nightmares always do.”
“You said you didn’t detect any unfamiliar scents,” Grady said to Sandor. “Can you still detect the Hekses?”
Sandor turned his head and sniffed the outside air. “Hints of them, yes.”
Sophie jumped to her feet. “Do you think they tried to take Silveny again?”
“Why would they do that?” Grady asked.
“Timkin wants to be in the nobility. Wouldn’t training Silveny help make that happen?”
“If the Council sanctioned it, yes. But stealing her in the middle of the night would merit a Tribunal—and how else would they explain why they have her? Unless . . .” Grady started to pace, and he’d passed Sophie three times before he added, “I suppose they could’ve been trying to help Silveny escape so they could rescue her and use that to prove our incompetency.”
Sophie could definitely see them doing something like that. “Can we do anything to stop them?” she asked.
“I’ll talk to the gnomes tomorrow about adding some extra security measures around her pen,” Grady decided.
“I should check on Silveny.”
“Absolutely not,” Sandor said, blocking her. “Not until I’ve done a more thorough sweep. I’ll patrol the grounds tonight. No one can get past me.”
SOPHIE TRIED TO GO BACK to sleep, but Silveny kept filling her mind with waves of panic and pleas for Sophie to let her go free—plus several words Sophie’s mind couldn’t translate. And no matter how many times she tried to convince Silveny that she was safer in her enclosure, the stubborn horse wouldn’t believe her.
She survived the long hours by rumpling Iggy’s pink curls, and when the first rays of dawn finally erased the night, she stumbled out of bed, threw on some work clothes, and made her way downstairs to try and calm Silveny.
Grady was already awake, sipping tea at the kitchen table.
“Good, you’re up,” he said, offering her his last slice of some sort of brown stringy fruit that reminded Sophie way too much of sludgers. “The gnomes and I tried to get started on Silveny’s pasture, but every time we get close to the bars she whinnies and flies around. Think after breakfast you can help keep her calm while we work?”
Sophie nudged the icky fruit away. It smelled even worse than it looked. “Actually, I can go now.”
Grady laughed. “You’re missing out. Squirmigs are delicious.”
Somehow she doubted that.
She wanted to gag as Grady shoved the rest in his mouth and motioned for her to follow him outside.
“Looks like she’s still doing that weird diving thing,” he said as Silveny’s enclosure came into view.
Weird was right.
The glittering horse kept tucking her wings and nose-diving from the highest part of her enclosure. At the last possible second she’d pull up and circle back to the top to repeat the process. Over. And over. And over.
Calm, Sophie transmitted, repeating the command until the alicorn broke her pattern and landed. She stamped her hooves as Sophie approached the bars.
Sophie held out a handful of swizzlespice. Friend.
Fly! Silveny replied, sending Sophie another image of her flying free in the starry sky.
It’s safer here, Sophie promised. But as she stared into Silveny’s sad, pleading eyes she couldn’t help wondering if that was really true. Silveny had survived on her own for who knew how long without the elves interfe
ring. Couldn’t she take care of herself?
“Are you sure we shouldn’t let her go?” Sophie asked as she stepped closer and reached through the bars to call Silveny over. Silveny stayed out of reach.
“Why would we ever do that?”
“She seems so sad in her cage.”
“She’s had a rough night. Once she calms down she’ll be okay.”
“But I don’t think she wants to be here.”
Grady sighed. “None of the animals want to be here at first, Sophie. That’s part of their rehabilitation.”
“Then why do we do it to them?”
“You of all people should know how dangerous it is for animals in the wild. Predators. Pollution. Not to mention what would happen to a creature like Silveny if she were ever spotted by humans. And there are other threats too. Ogres do not value animal life the way we do. The trolls aren’t so great either. The only way we can guarantee a creature’s protection is to move them to our Sanctuary—and once they’re there, they love it. But we can’t bring them until we know they’re ready. That’s why you’ve been assigned to help Silveny adjust.”
“But how?” It had been almost a week and she’d made no progress at all.
“Patience, for one thing. Lots and lots of treats help too,” Grady added as Silveny finally caved and moved close enough to chomp down the swizzlespice Sophie was offering. “But really, it’s about figuring out what she needs.”
“She’s told me that already. She needs to be free.”
“No—that’s what she wants. What she needs isn’t the same thing. I doubt Silveny even knows it herself.”
Sophie sighed. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?
“Think she’s calm enough for us to work on her enclosure now? I need to add a padlock to the gate, and the gnomes are going to add some extra poles to make the gaps between bars more narrow.”
“That’s all you’re doing?”
“What more do we need?”
Sophie wasn’t sure. But stopping anyone from getting to Silveny was way different than stopping an intruder from setting foot at Havenfield in the first place. Part of her wished their house could be more like Everglen, with its massive gates that absorbed all the light. It probably got annoying that they were never able to leap directly home, but it had to be nice knowing no one could get to them.
She couldn’t tell Grady and Edaline that, though.
Alden and Della had offered to let her live with them when Grady and Edaline cancelled her adoption, and if she told them now that she wished their house was like Everglen, they might think she regretted her choice—and she didn’t.
But it would be nice to feel safer.
Silveny must’ve agreed because she twitched or whinnied every time Grady or the gnomes made a sound, and she kept filling Sophie’s mind with images of the black-cloaked figures.
Safe, Sophie kept repeating. I promise you’ll be safe here.
She intended to keep that promise.
Silveny was trapped there because of her—because she’d heard Silveny’s thoughts and followed them and leaped her to Havenfield and coaxed her into the enclosure. And the only reason she wasn’t undoing all of that and letting Silveny fly away was because she believed Grady. It was a dangerous world for a sparkly flying horse.
But if she was going to take away Silveny’s freedom, then she was going to make sure the alicorn truly was better off. So when Grady and the gnomes were done with Silveny’s enclosure, Sophie wandered the grounds, searching for some clue that Sandor might have missed that would tell her if Silveny had been right about the intruders.
After several hours of finding nothing, Sophie was ready to concede that it really had been a nightmare.
But then she found a pair of footprints in the tree line.
TWENTY-ONE
THESE PRINTS HAVE NO SCENT,” Sandor repeated for probably the twentieth time. He was down on his knees, nose to the mud, inhaling every inch. “If they were not shaped like feet, I would think they were made by boulders.”
They’d already compared everyone’s footprints—including the gnomes’—and found no match. The prints had to be from an intruder—though everyone kept using the word “visitor,” like that somehow made it less scary.
Grady ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth. “Couldn’t they be old prints? Wouldn’t the scent have faded over time?”
“These prints are too fresh.”
“I don’t understand,” Edaline whispered as her grip tightened on Sophie’s hand. She’d latched on the second she saw the two impressions in the mud, and it seemed like she had no intention of letting go. “How could the prints not have a scent?”
Everyone looked at Sandor, who seemed to debate with himself before he answered.
“There . . . is a way to trick our senses.”
“What?” Grady and Edaline asked at the same time.
“It’s knowledge we guard very closely so that it cannot compromise our strength as bodyguards—and it’s an extremely complicated feat to achieve. But if someone knew what they were doing, it’s possible they could hide from me.”
“I thought you said no one could get past you,” Sophie snapped. “I trusted you!”
“And you can still trust me,” Sandor replied calmly. “Only a select few have this information. But this is why I’m always telling you to stay by my side, in case something somehow sneaks up, so I can be ready.”
“Who knows about this?” Grady asked after a second, and the strain in his voice suggested he felt just as betrayed as Sophie.
“The Councillors, and a few select members of the nobility. No others.”
Grady mumbled to himself, listing off names Sophie didn’t recognize, like he was trying to guess who might know.
He stopped pacing. “Vika Heks has many family members in the nobility. Do any of them know?”
“It’s possible. I do not know the full specifics.”
Grady nodded, and the lines on his forehead seemed to fade. “It has to be them. They’re the only ones that make sense.”
“Not the only ones,” Edaline said, squeezing Sophie’s hand so hard it cut off her circulation.
Grady went back to pacing, and he’d worn a small groove in the mud before he said, “I know what you’re worrying about, Eda—I’m worrying about it too. But we both need to remember: They weren’t here for Sophie. Look where the prints are—nowhere near the house. Silveny’s the one they were interested in.”
Edaline’s death grip slackened. “I suppose.”
Sophie wished she could relax as easily. She had a hard time imagining the Hekses being skilled enough to trick Sandor’s senses. She doubted Stina was skilled enough to walk and chew gum at the same time.
Maybe it was the Black Swan—but why would they care more about a sparkly winged horse than her?
Though, what would the kidnappers want Silveny for?
Sophie’s brain hurt trying to figure it out, and she realized only one thing really mattered: If Silveny was the one they wanted, she needed to work extra hard to get Silveny ready for the Sanctuary so she could finally be somewhere safe.
“THAT’S A LOT OF BODYGUARDS,” Dex said as he stood next to Sophie at Silveny’s pasture, watching a goblin who made Sandor look puny give orders to four others before they all raced away in opposite directions to resume their patrol. “Anything I should know about?”
“They’re not for me, and I’m not allowed to say more than that.”
The Council had ordered extreme silence when it came to what they had dubbed “the suspicious incident.” No one was allowed to know of the possible threat to Silveny. The last thing they wanted was more paranoia spreading.
Dex sighed.
Sophie felt like doing the same.
She offered Silveny a handful of swizzlespice through the bars, but Silveny simply sniffed the air and stared at Dex.
Scared.
“Scared” was Silveny’s new favorite word. She’d bee
n transmitting it constantly for the last few days—when Sophie left her alone, when someone so much as breathed too close to her enclosure, when she wanted anything at all. And despite Sophie’s renewed efforts to get Silveny to respond to someone besides her, the traumatized horse refused to get anywhere near anyone Sophie brought over.
Silveny even panicked around other animals. Especially Iggy—though it hadn’t helped that the mischievous imp decided to launch one of his toxic Iggy-farts into Silveny’s face when Sophie introduced them. Silveny had gagged for about ten minutes, and Sophie couldn’t blame her.
At least it had been all quiet on the alicorn front since the extra goblins arrived. Not so much as a bent blade of grass had been found on the grounds for the last three days.
“Sorry I haven’t been around this week,” Dex mumbled, fidgeting with the silver band on his wrist. It was the Disneyland watch Sophie had given him at the end of midterms last year. “My parents needed me to help out at the store.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Sophie said, feeling bad that she hadn’t noticed. Thanks to Silveny and her nightmares Sophie had barely slept, and the exhaustion was starting to get to her. She’d even started to consider asking Elwin for an extremely mild sedative, but she was afraid he might want to examine her. And after her talk with Fitz she was afraid of what he might find.
It was easier not to know—at least for right now when she had so much to deal with. She hadn’t had a headache since the aurenflare, so whatever the problem was, it couldn’t be that big of a deal. She’d look into it later.
“But I like coming here,” Dex said, interrupting her thoughts. His ears turned red and he added quickly, “It’s nice to get a break from my parents. They’ve been a lot more annoying, ever since . . .”
He glanced toward the Cliffside gate. Sophie felt a knot form in her throat.
“I knew I’d find you hard at work on your assignment,” Alden said as he appeared behind them. “Sorry, I know I come unannounced. I have sort of a last-minute . . .”
His voice trailed off as Silveny flapped her wings and took off to circle her enclosure. “Such an incredible creature,” Alden breathed.
Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 13
