The others agreed, and Grady promised to arrange everything with the Vackers. Everyone flashed away, and only then did Sophie realize she’d agreed to try healing her first mind in front of an audience.
“I get to go too, right?” Keefe asked.
“Of course,” Grady promised, and Sophie was relieved.
Keefe deserved to be there—though she had no idea if she was really going to be able to fix anything.
“Good.” Keefe met her eyes, and his face turned serious. “It’s going to work, Sophie.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. Which means you need to get some sleep. You have to be well rested for tomorrow’s celebration of epic proportions. And I guess I should probably go home too.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll live.” He dusted himself off as he stood. “Try not to die while I’m gone, okay? And no ‘almost deaths’ either.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He winked as he held his home crystal to the predawn sunlight and slowly glittered away.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Keefe’s growing on me,” Grady mumbled.
“Me too,” Sandor agreed. “Though I’d prefer he stop calling me Gigantor.”
Everyone laughed. But then Grady’s smile faded. “I’d better help the gnomes get Silveny somewhere safe, and you need to rally the other goblins, Sandor.” He glanced at Sophie. “Think you’ll be able to get some sleep, even with the pain?”
“I’ve had worse,” she promised, wishing it weren’t true.
Grady sighed and turned to leave.
“Are you going to tell the Vackers what I’m trying to do?” she called after him.
“I think I have to. I hate to get their hopes up, but they’ll wonder what’s going on when all the Councillors show up.”
“I guess.”
She let him walk a few more steps before she asked, “What if I can’t do it?”
Grady walked back and took her hands. “Then they’ll appreciate how hard you tried—and you’ll know you did everything you could, and we’ll all find a way to let him go for good. Okay?”
Sophie nodded.
He gave her another hug and wiped away the tears she hadn’t even noticed she was shedding.
“Come on, Sophie,” Edaline said, gently draping an arm across her shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up as much as we can, and then you need to rest. You have a big day ahead of you.”
SIXTY-ONE
SOPHIE STARED AT THE GLITTERING mansion of Everglen, trying to force her legs to move. She couldn’t believe it’d only been two weeks since the day when everything fell apart.
She had to make things right today.
When the sun had set, Elwin made her guzzle so many elixirs and serums that she still felt light-headed as she made her way up the glittering steps. Or maybe that was nerves. Either way, she was glad she hadn’t eaten anything, because there was no way she would’ve kept it down.
Grady and Edaline walked on each side of her, and they squeezed her hands as she stumbled forward.
“Remember,” Grady said quietly, “all you can do is try your best.”
She repeated those words as Della opened the door to greet them.
She looked like Della again, her piercing eyes sharp and clear and a hint of color in her cheeks. Fitz and Biana flanked each side of her, but Sophie didn’t let herself look at them. She focused on the rainbow flecks of light on the floor, relieved she felt no reaction to them.
“Thank you, Sophie,” Della said, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace. Sophie tried not to think about how frail Della felt, or how much they all were counting on her to do this, but the pressure piled on top of her anyway. Especially when Biana joined the hug.
“I’m sorry, Sophie,” Biana whispered, starting to cry. “I know I’ve been awful and I don’t blame you if you hate me. It’s just been so hard.”
“I know,” Sophie told her. “It’s okay.”
A tiny part of her wondered if Fitz would chime in, but he stayed silent, standing just out of reach. So she was completely surprised when he said, “You can’t hear me anymore, can you?”
Sophie turned to face him, staring at his chin instead of his eyes. “Were you trying to transmit?”
He nodded—or she assumed he did because his chin bobbed up and down.
“I guess that means he fixed me, then.” Which was a relief. But it made her sad, too—not that she expected Fitz to be having any more secret conversations with her.
“Can I um . . . talk to you for a minute?” he asked quietly.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Um . . .” She looked around, trying to figure out where to go.
“Let’s go outside.” He offered her his hand, and several seconds passed before Sophie worked up the courage to take it.
She pleaded with her palm not to sweat as he led her to the shade of a nearby tree.
“The bruise is still there.” Fitz pointed to the dark purple spot on the back of her hand, in the center—all that was left after Elwin finished treating her. Elwin had promised he’d make a balm that would get rid of it, but Sophie had a feeling it was one scar that would stay.
“It doesn’t hurt.” She pressed it a few times, until Fitz grabbed her other hand to stop her.
He waited for her to meet his eyes before he said, “Keefe told me what you went through yesterday—and what you’ve been going through ever since . . . well, you know. And I just . . . I . . .” He dropped her hands and looked at the ground. “Ugh, how do I apologize for being the hugest jerk ever?”
Sophie smiled sadly. “You weren’t that big of a jerk.”
“Yeah I was.” He walked a few steps away, kicking the grass. “I was just so angry. All I could do was scream and break things. Half my stuff is trashed now.” He turned back to her, but he kept his eyes down. “But . . . I’m so sorry, Sophie—for everything. And I wanted you to know that before you try to fix my dad, because if it works, I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I’m saying it.”
His words felt warmer than the sunshine peeking through the branches. “It’s okay, Fitz. I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I ever was.”
He looked at her then, his brows scrunched together. “Why not?”
Sophie shrugged. “You thought you’d lost your dad. You had a right to freak out. But . . .” It was her turn to look away. “You really don’t blame me anymore?”
Fitz stepped closer. “I never really did. I was just . . . I don’t know. I was being stupid.”
“Boy is that an understatement,” Alvar said, making them both jump as he appeared out of thin air. “And I gotta say, Sophie. I think you’re letting him off too easy. At least make him buy you a present or something.”
Sophie laughed as Fitz glared at his brother. “Maybe next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Fitz said, and the look in his eyes made Sophie’s heart flutter. She’d almost forgotten what that felt like.
“Yeah, well, let’s hope not,” Alvar said, clapping Fitz on the back. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt, but the Council is obviously eager to get started.”
Sophie sighed, wishing she could feel the same way. But there was a lot of pressure riding on this.
They walked in silence back to the front door, but before Fitz followed Alvar inside, he whispered, “It’s lame that we can’t transmit anymore. I hope Tiergan still lets me be in your telepathy session.”
She felt her cheeks flame. “Me too.”
“And remember,” he told her as they started up the stairs. “No matter what happens now, we’re still friends, right?”
Sophie smiled. “Still friends.”
“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY,” GRADY TOLD Sophie as she slowly approached Alden’s bed.
They’d moved him back to his bedroom, and all twelve Councillors had lined up against the curved walls, along with Keefe, Della, Fitz, Biana, and Alvar. Tiergan and Elwin were also there, in case anyth
ing went wrong and they needed either a Telepath or a physician to help—but Sophie was really hoping it wouldn’t come to that.
It felt right this time.
Maybe it was just her rushing high from mending things with Fitz and Biana, but she couldn’t help feeling like something really good was about to happen. She just had to trust, and try.
The room fell silent as she placed her hands against Alden’s temples and closed her eyes. She waited until she felt calm and in control. Then she took one last breath and opened her mind to Alden’s.
His mind was cold and thick and sharp, like swimming through a raging river filled with jagged rocks. But no matter how hard the forces battered her, nothing broke through her mental barriers this time. No crazy memories or madness. No images at all. Just cold, quiet darkness that she sank deeper into—and then deeper still—trying to feel for warmth to guide her to the nook, like she’d done the last time.
Alden? she transmitted, filling his mind with the sound of her call. It’s Sophie. I’m here to help you.
Please be here. Please have enough left for me to rescue you.
She repeated the call over and over until his mind was nothing but a series of echoes. It didn’t seem to help, but she wasn’t giving up. She filled his head with happy memories, faces, places, sounds—anything she could think of.
At first they were swallowed by the darkness, but the more she transmitted, the longer they lingered, and slowly they gathered around her, a safe nest of precious things. And as she concentrated on them, she felt the tiniest spark of warmth.
It was far away—almost out of her reach—but she followed it through the murk and it led her to the nook.
It was empty.
Alden! she transmitted over and over, begging him to respond. He couldn’t be gone. She wouldn’t give up. There had to be something else she could say, do, try.
She was made for this.
Her mind ran through the things Mr. Forkle had told her about the way he’d designed her, and as she repeated their conversation, she realized she’d missed one crucial step.
Inflicting.
She’d learned nothing from her one, lonely inflicting session except how to endure pain—but Silveny had sent her blasts of emotion all the time. Only problem was, she had no idea how Silveny did what she did. But maybe her instincts knew what to do—just like when she teleported.
She focused on love, the most powerful emotion of all, thinking about all the different people she cared about. Her family. Her friends. Iggy and Silveny. Even Sandor in all his gobliny glory. She was surprised by some of the faces that filled her mind, but she loved so many people in so many different ways. And as she thought about all the things they’d done for her, a buzz of warmth and happiness and energy swelled around her mind. Just a trickle at first, but the more she fed it, the more it turned into a raging surge.
She focused on the rush, and imagined her concentration wrapping around the flow and shooting it into Alden’s mind.
Nothing happened.
She concentrated harder, transmitting images of Alden’s family and friends and sending them along with the rush as she told him, People love you, Alden. People need you.
Come back for them.
She repeated the call over and over and over, and with each repetition the warmth rose.
Feeding it.
Fueling it.
She was close.
He was close.
But she needed something else to push him that last little bit, something to convince him he had to come back. And that’s when she realized what was missing.
I can fix Prentice.
The words had barely entered Alden’s mind when the warmth exploded around her in a geyser of heat and sparks, launching her consciousness up up up, blasting away the darkness and the cold and uncovering fragments of memories that slowly started piecing themselves together.
Alden? Sophie called, trying not to panic in the endless second that followed.
Then Alden’s weak voice transmitted, I’m back.
SIXTY-TWO
THE MINUTES AFTER ALDEN OPENED his eyes were such an overwhelming flurry of laughter and tears that all Sophie could do was hold on and soak it up as everyone cheered and sobbed and crushed them both with hugs and kisses.
Then Elwin stepped in, made sure Sophie was okay, and herded everyone except family out so he could check Alden over.
As soon as they were downstairs, the Councillors started an intense debate over what to do now, and soon Grady, Edaline, and Tiergan had all joined in. But Sophie couldn’t think coherently enough to participate. She was too stuck on the fact that Alden was back.
He’d looked at her and smiled as she left the room.
A real smile. An Alden smile.
“We did it,” Keefe said, wrapping an arm around her and fist pumping the air. “Team Foster-Keefe triumphed! Clearly this is proof that we should work together more often. I’m sure Glitter Butt would agree.” His smile faded. “How’s she doing, by the way?”
“Her bones haven’t responded to any of our healing elixirs. We’ll have to wait for her to heal on her own. And she can’t move her wing right now because of the splint, so we won’t be able to tell if she can fly until it’s removed. But she was able to walk, eat, and drink this morning—and she’s still transmitting like crazy.”
“Wow, really? I figured that would’ve stopped.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She tried to keep her emotions even so he wouldn’t guess that she had anything to hide, but she could still feel him staring at her as she reached up to tug out an itchy eyelash.
Fortunately, Elwin came to the rescue.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as everyone fell silent. “Alden would like to have a word with Sophie.”
“IT’S STRANGE HOW MUCH HAS changed in two weeks,” Alden whispered, after he’d asked her a billion questions about what had gone on while he was out of commission. “I feel like I’ve missed everything.”
“Don’t worry. With the way things go around here, I’m sure there’s plenty more excitement to come.”
“I’m afraid you might be right.”
So was she—though after facing all of this, she felt like she could handle anything.
“I’m just glad it worked,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t sure if it would, since you hadn’t been trained to retreat to the nook or save any part of yourself. How did you know?”
“I don’t think I did.” Alden stared out the window. “I’d been fighting the break day by day. Minute by minute. The only thing that kept me going was my family. I knew it would destroy them if I shattered, and I tried to hold on for them. But when I saw Prentice in Exile, I thought I was done. I felt the cracks form, felt myself fall through, and I thought, I’ve failed.”
“That was a break?”
Alden nodded. “I didn’t tell anyone because I came back, and I thought that meant I’d fought to stay with my family. That I was strong enough to keep fighting. That I was safe. But then I saw Wylie and I thought about him growing up without a family—because of me, and—”
His voice broke and he wiped away a tear. “I think you must’ve pulled me back that first time in Exile—maybe my mind was so newly cracked that your ability could still work, I don’t know. But it had nothing to do with me. I was weak. And the second time, the cracks were too big, too deep. I sank into them and everything collapsed.”
“You must’ve held on somehow. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe. I do remember thinking about my family as I shattered, so it’s possible some small part of me held on. But if it hadn’t been for you . . .” He took her hand, staring at the star-shaped bruise. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Sophie—and for my family.”
“You’re back. That’s all the thanks I need. Just, take care of yourself, get stronger, and if you start to feel any more guilt, remind yourself that I will fix Prentice. As soon as the Counci
l lets me.”
And if they wouldn’t let her, she’d find a way to do it anyway. She could teleport now. She didn’t need their permission to get to Exile.
“Leave that up to me,” Alden said, interrupting her scheming. “The Council and I will be having a very long talk about—well, a lot of things.”
“Are you up to that?”
“I will be soon. No reason to worry.”
She smiled at the familiar words, relieved when Alden smiled too. And for the first time in a long time, she actually believed them.
“WE STILL HAVE TO DISCUSS the matter of the alicorn,” Bronte announced as Sophie joined the Councillors outside. Elwin and Tiergan were inside, helping the Vackers, but Keefe had stayed with Grady and Edaline.
Sophie had to bite back her groan. “You can’t be serious, Bronte.”
“Oh, but I am. Treason is a very serious matter.”
“Treason?” she repeated.
“Bronte, we are not going to discuss exiling this family after everything they’ve done today,” Councillor Emery said firmly.
“Everything Sophie has done today,” Bronte corrected. “And while I don’t personally subscribe to the notion that a good deed can erase a bad, I’m not a fool. I know I’ll be overruled on that.”
Kenric, Oralie, Emery, Terik, and two Councillors that Sophie didn’t know all nodded. She made a mental note of her supporters.
“I do, however, remember that Grady admitted to granting permission for this treasonous act—and before you go arguing that he was trying to help ‘fix’ his daughter, need I remind you that when he was reinstated as an Emissary, he swore an oath to put the good of our world above his own life? It’s the same oath we’ve all sworn and all made tremendous sacrifices to uphold. Are we going to allow Grady to subvert it with no consequences, especially given that his actions led to the likely crippling of the most important creature in our world?”
“Hey—it’s just a broken wing,” Keefe argued, backing up when Bronte reeled on him.
“Just a broken wing? That wing is the primary method of transportation for this creature—not to mention there will surely be psychological effects as well. Animals lose their instinct to breed—even, at times, their will to live—when they suffer so serious an injury. And I doubt I need to remind any of you how vital it is that Silveny thrive.”
Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 37
