“Oh, there’s no mistake. See for yourself.” He handed her a silver mirror from the dressing table.
Sophie’s eyes widened.
All her color had been washed away, leaving her lips and cheeks the same pale white as her skin. Even her eyes looked more gray than brown.
“Don’t worry—it looks worse than it is. When it’s serious your skin starts to turn translucent. And when it’s deadly you’re practically clear. There were parts of you I could barely see when Fitz found you last time.”
Sophie shuddered. “You can fix it, right?”
“Yeah, I just have to make up some of that limbium-free Fade Fuel that Kesler came up with. And in the meantime, I want you to drink this”—he handed her a bottle of Youth—“and try to rest.”
He smeared purple balm on her burn and wrapped her hand in a damp silk cloth. “I have to go take care of Alden. Will you be all right?”
Sophie nodded. “Is he going to be okay?
“Of course. He’s a little beat up, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Just try to relax. I’ll be back in a few.”
She downed the bottle of Youth, trying not to stare at her pale hand as she set the bottle on the bedside table.
She was going to be fine.
She didn’t even feel different. Just tired and sore.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow, hoping to get some much needed sleep. But the nightmares refused to let her rest.
Fire and chaos from Fintan’s memories. Madness and mayhem from Prentice. All the horrors she’d seen during her probes, mixed with her own fears and sandwiched together into the ultimate horror show in her mind.
But the worst was a memory she didn’t remember seeing.
Prentice, strapped to a chair in a round room with projections on the walls. Sophie had been there once, when Alden brought her to Quinlin’s office in Atlantis. But this time all the screens projected the same image.
The sign of the swan.
Prentice stared quietly at his lap as Quinlin circled him, shouting questions. Finally Quinlin wrung his hands and reached for Prentice’s temples. Prentice didn’t struggle—didn’t resist—didn’t do anything except stare at the person whose eyes Sophie was seeing the memory through.
Alden.
Sophie could feel Alden’s anger and sadness as Prentice thrashed and screamed, and she jolted awake, hoping to bury the devastating memory so deeply in her mind that it would never resurface. But she had a feeling it would haunt her the same way it must be haunting Alden.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Fitz said, making her jump.
“No, it wasn’t you,” Sophie said when she could breathe normally again. “I just had a bad dream.”
He sat next to her on the bed. “Sorry.”
Sophie shrugged. “How’s your dad?”
“Sedated. Elwin needed to do some deep tissue repair to his head wound, so he put him under.”
“But he’s going to be okay?”
“According to Elwin. And Bullhorn’s not freaking out either, so I guess he’s right.”
Banshees only screamed when someone was in mortal danger—though it was worse when they lay down next to someone. That meant death was far too close.
“What happened down there?” Fitz asked quietly.
“Pretty much one disaster after another.”
“I’ll say.” He held up a small blue vial with an atomizer. “Elwin made this for you. Breathe in.”
He spritzed near her nose and Sophie inhaled the medicine, coughing as the tingly moisture hit her sinuses.
“Just like old times,” Fitz said sadly. “I used to sit right here, giving you a dose every hour, watching the bits of color slowly return to your face and hoping you’d wake up.”
“You did?”
He nodded.
If she could’ve blushed, she would have.
“Then of course you woke up during one of the few times my mom forced me to get some rest.” He grinned, but there was still sadness in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Fitz.”
“It’s not your fault—though you really know how to give me a heart attack. When your transmissions cut away today I almost leaped to Eternalia and banged on the Councillors’ doors until they took me to you guys.”
“I’m glad you didn’t do that.”
“Me too. I guess. Though it looks like you could’ve used some help.”
Sophie stared at her hands, relieved to see a hint of pink returning to her fingertips. “Elwin said it’s not a big deal this time.”
“Yeah, that’s what he told me, too. But he also said I have to make you wear this.” Before she could react he grabbed her left arm and clamped something teal and sparkly around her wrist. “It’s Biana’s old nexus. Elwin wants to be extra careful.”
Sophie scowled as he twisted the jeweled cuff until it clicked, leaving her wrist covered in pink and purple flowers.
Great, now she had two nexuses.
“How long will I have to wear it for?”
“Until he can figure out why you faded.”
“It had to be the stress.”
“Maybe.”
He fidgeted with the bottle of medicine. You really can’t tell me what happened? Or what you were doing in Exile?
His transmission felt like a hot poker stabbing her brain.
Still too loud? he asked when she winced.
Sophie nodded.
“Sorry. Hopefully Sir Tiergan can figure out what’s wrong.”
“Yeah,” Sophie told him, hoping the same thing.
She was hoping even harder that the problem wasn’t with her.
“I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET you go with Alden,” Grady practically growled as he and Edaline helped Sophie up the stairs at Havenfield. Sandor trailed behind, grumbling about how nothing would’ve happened if he’d been allowed to do his job.
Edaline squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Elwin said she’s going to be fine. And he’ll check her again in the morning to be safe. Maybe we should just have him move in.”
Sophie felt her jaw drop slightly as Edaline smiled at her joke.
Since when was Edaline the calm one?
The good news had been that Elwin didn’t find anything wrong with her—and he’d tested her every imaginable way. The bad news was he had no idea why she’d faded, or why she kept getting headaches or any of the other weird things that she’d finally told him about. All he could do was insist on weekly checkups until he either figured it out or the problems went away.
“Besides, I don’t think we really had a choice,” Edaline added quietly. “Alden was on assignment from the Council.”
“Yes, and I suspect there were other forces involved too.” Grady gave Sophie a look and she became very interested in her feet.
She didn’t have the energy for another debate about the Black Swan. Especially since there was a chance now that Jolie had been involved with them. Could her death have had something to do with the Black Swan after all? Even if it wasn’t murder?
Sophie would have to find out, though she had no idea where to start.
They left her alone to shower and change, and Sophie hoped the subject was dropped. But when Grady and Edaline came back to tuck her in, Grady kissed her good night and whispered, “Please be careful, Sophie. I just don’t think you realize who you’re dealing with.”
“I—”
“I’m not going to say anything else. Just rest.”
He left without another word.
Edaline handed her Ella and brushed a few strands of hair off of her forehead. “You really do need to sleep, Sophie. Are you sure I can’t make you some slumberberry tea?”
The last thing Sophie wanted was to close her eyes and relive any more nightmares—but fading again had renewed her resolve. “No sedatives.”
Edaline frowned, but didn’t argue as she kissed Sophie’s cheek.
Iggy settled on Sophie’s pillow, and Edaline turned off the lights and left them
alone. But when the sound of Edaline’s footsteps had disappeared, Sophie crept out of bed and recorded all of the crazy things she’d seen in Fintan’s and Prentice’s minds into her memory log. The images were even more terrifying on paper, and she shoved the book out of sight, grabbing her Spyball before burying herself under her covers.
“Show me Mr. Forkle,” she whispered, not surprised when it flashed UNKNOWN. She wasn’t really in the mood to see him anyway. She needed something that didn’t involve broken minds or the Black Swan or exiled prisoners or fire and doom.
“Show me Connor, Kate, and Natalie Freeman,” she whispered.
The silver orb flashed, revealing her dad, mom, and sister snuggled together on the couch eating popcorn and store-bought cookies. Movie night was a Foster family tradition, and Sophie soaked up the normal scene, hoping it would fill her dreams. Then something caught her eye. A floppy-eared beagle puppy curled in her sister’s lap.
One of the few requests Sophie had made when Alden left to relocate her family was to get them a house with a yard big enough for them to finally get the dog they’d always wanted.
She was happy to see they finally had it.
But it hurt, too—so much more than she ever thought it would.
Tears burned her eyes and she grabbed Iggy and nuzzled his fuzzy nose, trying not to feel so alone and afraid, and wishing she could go back to a time when she didn’t have to worry about things like fading and kidnappers and memory breaks.
It helped a little, but what finally helped her regain control was Silveny’s quiet voice filling her mind.
Calm.
Friend.
Silveny repeated the words, transmitting a strangely soft warmth, and Sophie sank into the feeling, letting it wrap around her consciousness like a blanket.
For the first time in a long time, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
THIRTY
YOU’RE REALLY STILL GOING TO make me dance?” Sophie whined as Edaline handed her the stupid Opening Ceremonies costume to change into.
Why, why did she let Elwin tell everyone she was one hundred percent recovered when he checked her that morning? She should have asked him for a Get Out of Dressing Like an Elephant Free card.
“Being part of the mascot dance at the Foxfire Opening Ceremonies is a tremendous honor, Sophie,” Edaline told her. “Tonight will be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”
Oh, she had no doubt about that. She just had a feeling it would go down in history as The Night Sophie Foster Tripped on Her Trunk and Fell on Her Face In Front of the Entire Elvin World.
But Edaline looked so proud and excited—and it would be nice to do something fun with her family for a change. Plus, she’d get to see Alden again. Elwin had assured her that he was completely healed, and Fitz had told her the same thing when she’d tried reaching him with her Imparter that morning. But she needed to see him for herself, with no more gash on his forehead or burn on his skin. Then she’d really know he was okay.
So she didn’t argue—too much—as Edaline left her to get ready.
She tried pulling back part of her hair and even put on one of the lip glosses Biana had given her, but Iggy still made a snickering sound when she put on her costume. Sophie was glad her mirror wasn’t a spectral mirror. Vertina would’ve had quite a lot to say if she could’ve seen her in all her floppy-eared glory.
Her furry feet made it even harder to walk as she climbed the stairs to the Leapmaster, and she slipped on the smooth floor, landing on her butt with a thud. At least the costume had some extra padding to cushion the fall.
“You’re going to love this,” Grady told her as he rushed to help her up.
Somehow she doubted “love” was ever going to be a word to describe this process. But it was nice to see a smile on Grady’s face again. He looked almost regal with his amber-brown cape clasped at the base of his neck with the Ruewen crest. Edaline stood beside him, looking like a Disney princess in her long amber-encrusted gown and silky cape.
It really wasn’t fair that they got to look stylish and elegant and she had to look like a shaggy elephant. Even Sandor had changed into amber brown pants.
“Does he really have to come?” Sophie whined. “Thousands of people are going to be there—there’s no way the kidnappers are going to try anything.”
“One can never be sure of such things,” Sandor corrected. “It is just as possible that they could decide the chaos of a crowd is the perfect opportunity to make their move—and I’m not going to allow that risk. You’re not leaving my side again. Except for your performance, of course.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? Maybe I should sit with you on the sidelines. . . .”
Grady laughed. “Nice try, kiddo. You’re dancing.”
Sophie glowered at the ground.
Sandor handed her a flat golden disk, about the size of a human penny. “I assume you have a pocket hidden somewhere in that fur? Keep that inside it.”
There were dozens of pockets running down each of her legs—which Sophie thought was strange—but she hesitated before slipping the disk into one. “What is it?”
“A tracking device. I’ve had them sewn into all of your permanent clothes, but not your costume, since you’ll be returning it.”
He’d put trackers in her clothes?
How many different ways was she being watched?
She was tempted to fling the tracker back at him—and insist they be removed from the rest of her things—but it wasn’t worth the fight.
At least not that night.
“WHOA,” SOPHIE WHISPERED AS THE Foxfire buildings glittered into focus.
A vibrant orange F glowed across the glass pyramid, casting a fiery haze over the entire campus. Thin blue strands of light hung like luminous icicles in all the trees and dangled from the garlands that were draped across the main building. But the most striking effect was the glowing green mushrooms blanketing every inch of the grassy fields.
Sophie smiled, remembering how much she’d teased Fitz about attending a school named after glowing fungus. Now they were decorating with it.
The mushrooms were as big as her feet and Sophie crouched to get a closer look. “I thought bioluminescent plants only grew in caves?”
“They usually do,” Grady said as he crouched beside her. “But these are a special type of mushroom the gnomes cultivate just for this event.”
Sophie stood, squinting at the F on the pyramid, which seemed to shift between orange and yellow. “Is that fungus too?”
“It’s actually a kind of mold. And the blue lights are a rare type of glowworm.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, they’re far too busy eating the mandible leaves they’re dangling from,” Edaline promised. “And they’re harmless anyway.”
“But . . . why are they here?”
The glowing fungus she understood—sort of. But worms?
Grady laughed. “Bioluminescent light is the only natural light in the deepest, darkest places on this earth. And Foxfire Academy is all about training our future generations to shine just as boldly. What better way to mark the start of a new school year than by lighting our path with their special kind of glow?”
Sophie was tempted to point out that worms and fungus didn’t seem all that special. But then she took another look. The campus really was breathtaking. Even if it did make her skin crawl.
She kept toward the center of the path as they wound their way past the outbuildings to the main auditorium, and Sandor placed his meaty hand on her shoulder as they walked. For once she didn’t mind. The black capes the Level One parents were wearing made it all too easy to imagine the kidnappers wandering among them.
The crowd gathered along the edge of the round courtyard in front of the auditorium’s entrance. All the bushes that lined the circle had been twisted and trimmed into the six Levels’ mascots and lit with more glowworms. The mastodon was by far the largest, and Sophie couldn’t help feeling a bit proud
to be a Level Three. Especially when she saw how ridiculous all the other costumes were too. The gremlins had black noses and furry gloves, and the halcyons had blue feathered arms and red beaks, and the dragons had leathery green bodysuits with spikes running down their backs, and the saber-toothed tigers had long red-orange striped tails and pointed white fangs hanging from their hoods, right next to their eyes. But the worst was the yetis in their head-to-toe bushy white fur.
Sophie tried to find her friends, but with the shadows and the costumes it was impossible to tell who was who. Maybe that was the point. No one was popular or unpopular, important or unimportant. They were all just Foxfire prodigies, waiting to start the next year.
The chimes rang with the same fanfare Sophie remembered hearing in Eternalia, and as everyone fell silent, the twelve Councillors appeared in all their finery in the center of the courtyard. The crowd erupted with applause—though Sophie noticed that several of the adults around her didn’t clap. And each Councillor was flanked by two bodyguards.
“Welcome to the beginning of another year at Foxfire!” Councillor Emery announced, raising his arms. “We fully expect this year will be the greatest year the Academy has ever seen—and we look forward to watching all of the greatness unfold.”
“Maybe they should spend less time watching and more time actually doing something for a change,” someone near Sophie whispered, and someone else snorted in agreement. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have to worry about our children being taken.”
“We understand things have been a bit . . . uncertain in recent weeks,” Councillor Emery continued, almost like he’d heard the murmurings. “And we want to assure you that we are working tirelessly to restore the peace and order we’ve enjoyed for millennia. Our world has changed—but change is not always a bad thing. When we resolve this situation—and it will be resolved—our world will be stronger, smarter, more prepared for whatever else time may throw our way. Make no mistake that we will endure this unrest, and bring an end to these rebellions.”
There was a smattering of applause, but Sophie suspected it wasn’t the resounding celebration the Council was hoping for. She could see Bronte’s scowl deepen, even in the dim light.
Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 18
