“I was telling him how the piquatine worked when I treated you,” Elwin explained, pointing to the egg-shaped vial in Master Leto’s hands.
Sophie scrambled back. “Did you find more aromark?”
“Preparatory measure only,” Master Leto promised. “Lady Cadence feels it would be prudent for us to keep a supply in the tower, along with reveldust, and two other enzymes Elwin is attempting to track down.”
“And I’m not having much luck,” Elwin warned him. “I thought yeti pee was tough to come by—but it’d be easier to fill a whole lake with it than to get my hands on anything from the ogres. All the trade lines have closed.”
Master Leto frowned, but he didn’t ask about any of the things Sophie was dying to know.
Before she could jump in on her own, Elwin asked her, “So what brings you by today?”
“An overprotective bodyguard,” she grumbled.
“She would like you to check the burn on her wrist,” Sandor clarified.
Elwin nodded, slipping on his crazy spectacles and flashing a green orb of light around her wrist. “I thought you said it wasn’t a burn.”
“It wasn’t,” Sophie agreed. “It was just a bruise that I treated with the wrong medicine.”
“Ah, yes. And I believe I already gave you my, ‘Always Come See Me First’ lecture last time. So I’ll spare you this time—but I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“I have.”
Elwin turned her hand from side to side, switching the light from red, to blue, to purple before he told her, “Well, the good news is, the wound healed perfectly. Not even the slightest trace that anything used to be there.”
“And the bad news?” Sophie had to ask.
“You have some of the most exhausted-looking cells I’ve ever seen. And don’t even get me started on those dark circles under your eyes.” He flashed an orange orb around her head. “When was the last time you actually slept?”
“It’s . . . been a while,” she admitted.
“I haven’t heard her sleep through the night since Silveny moved to the Sanctuary,” Sandor added.
Elwin whistled. “You can’t keep that up, Sophie. I know you don’t like sedatives—”
“Then don’t try to talk me into taking them,” she interrupted.
“But you need sleep.”
“Wait,” Master Leto interrupted. “Forgive my intrusion, but I have to ask. What does sleep have to do with Silveny being at the Sanctuary?”
It really wasn’t any of his business. But he had given her that amnesty thing, so she told him, “Silveny used to keep my nightmares away. We can communicate telepathically, and she would send her memories into my mind while I slept.”
“So why don’t you still have her do that?”
“Uh . . . because she’s on the other side of the world now.”
Was he actually serious with that question?
Clearly he was, because Master Leto laughed. “And here I thought you were the girl with all the impossibly strong powers. Did you or did you not transmit to someone more than half a world away—and with your mind drugged, no less?”
“I did,” she admitted. “But I’m pretty sure that was mostly adrenaline. Plus, the Sanctuary is a different situation. I couldn’t even teleport there when I tried.”
His brows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I can’t teleport through anything solid.”
“Fascinating,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. Several long seconds passed before he added, “Well, last I checked, teleporting and telepathy were two completely different things. And I promise you, Sophie, the only barrier stopping you from reaching your alicorn friend is the imaginary wall you put there yourself. Tear it down and discover an entirely new realm of possibilities.”
“How can you be so sure?” Sophie had to ask.
He smiled and tapped the side of his head. “I know rather more about the mind than you might expect.”
He left before she could ask what that meant, and she didn’t see how he could be right. But if there was even the slightest chance she could connect with Silveny, it was worth trying. The healing was tomorrow, and the Councillors—and Fitz—were counting on her to get through it safely.
She was going to need all the help she could get.
TWENTY-EIGHT
TELL ME THIS,” TIERGAN SAID as he stood from his chair and started to pace the small telepathy room. “What will be your greatest asset during the healing—during any telepathic endeavor, actually?”
“My impenetrable mind?” Sophie guessed.
“That is a strength, Sophie, but not an asset,” Tiergan corrected. “And you’ve already seen how our strengths can fail us. An asset, on the other hand, is a tool, ready to be utilized the second we should call upon it—and there’s one asset in particular that you both must rely upon to the fullest extent of your abilities. Any other guesses what it might be?”
Sophie glanced at Fitz, but he seemed just as clueless as her.
“It’s trust,” Tiergan told them. “Trust is what gives us confidence to step outside the safety of our own headspace and enter the darkness of another. What fuels us, guides us, pushes us to keep going, even when all hope feels lost. And for the two of you, trust is what will bond you together, so that your minds can face the coming challenge as one. So tell me, Fitz,” he said, turning to face him, “do you trust Sophie?”
“Of course.”
“Are you certain—and I mean absolutely certain?” Tiergan pressed. “If memory serves me, the two of you have had a somewhat tumultuous relationship recently.”
Fitz lowered his head. “I know I was a total jerk for a few weeks. But I do trust you,” he told Sophie. “I hope you trust me.”
“Of course I do!” Sophie said—probably too quickly.
Tiergan studied them for a second, rubbing his chin. “Nope. I’m not convinced. I see friendship and familiarity. But what you need is absolute confidence in each other. Which is why I’ve prepared a special exercise.” He folded his hands as he waited for them to look at him. “The better we understand someone, the more we can trust them, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sophie and Fitz both nodded.
“I’m so glad you feel that way, because the success of the assignment will depend entirely upon how willing you are to open up and truly put faith in each other.”
Something about his tone felt almost ominous, and when Sophie swallowed she realized her mouth had gone dry.
“Sophie,” Tiergan said, forcing her to pay attention, “since Fitz can no longer transmit to you, I’m going to need you to open your mind to his for this exercise—and for now I want you both to keep your thoughts focused on something unimportant. Like socks, or napkins, or uvulas.”
“Uvulas?” Fitz and Sophie both asked at the same time.
Tiergan smiled. “And now you won’t be able to think of anything else.”
He was right—Sophie’s mind was filled with images of the hangy ball that dangled from the back of her throat, and when she opened her thoughts to Fitz’s, he was picturing the same thing.
She couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or gag.
“Okay, I’m in,” she said.
Like old times, huh? Fitz thought.
Pretty much, Sophie transmitted—deciding not to mention that his thoughts were way easier to listen to than the blaring transmissions he used to send.
“So now what?” Fitz asked Tiergan.
“Now comes the fun part—though you may consider it rather challenging. I want you both to privately tell each other three things about yourself that no one else knows—”
“Three?” Sophie interrupted.
“Would you like more?” Tiergan asked.
“No—three is good!” Fitz jumped in.
He sounded just as nervous as Sophie, wh
ich actually made her feel better.
“They can’t be things you’ve shared with anyone else,” Tiergan added, sealing their misery, “and they need to be important secrets. Not ‘I didn’t eat breakfast this morning’ or ‘I always fall asleep during elvin history.’ You need to push yourself beyond your comfort zone and really trust each other. Understand?”
They both nodded, and Sophie wished she hadn’t shared quite so many secrets with Biana as Tiergan sank into his chair. He turned one of the silver knobs on his armrest, dimming the lights, and the darkness made everything feel more intimate—which was probably the point. But it made Sophie’s palms so clammy they stuck to her cape.
“Pretend I’m not here,” Tiergan told them. “And try to forget about Sandor as well. This exercise will work best if you concentrate only on each other. And keep in mind that the more you share, the better you’ll be able to work together.”
An endless stretch of silence followed, before Sophie transmitted, So . . . how do you want to do this?
I guess we could take turns, Fitz thought back.
They both shifted in their chairs, neither seeming to want to go first.
We could play rock, paper, scissors, Sophie suggested, and the loser has to start.
I have no idea what that is.
Wow, really? Sophie explained the rules, and, even though Fitz didn’t seem to understand how paper could ever beat rock, they decided to play.
Naturally, Fitz chose paper.
And naturally, Sophie won with scissors.
Fitz slumped in his chair. Argh—this is so awkward. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just . . . the only things I can come up with are going to make you think I’m such a dork.
That’s not possible. You’re pretty much the coolest guy I know.
Cooler than Keefe?
Well . . . maybe it’s a tie.
A slow smile curled his lips. I guess I can live with that. And I should probably stop stalling, huh?
Nah—take your time. In fact, feel free to stall for the rest of the session. Then I don’t have to take a turn either.
Think we could get away with that?
Somehow I doubt it.
Okay—let’s do this. He squared his shoulders as he told her, I . . . can’t sleep without this bright red stuffed dragon Elwin gave me.
A giggle slipped out of Sophie’s lips before she could stop it.
See? I knew you’d think I was a dork!
Uh, you already know I’m a huge fan of sleeping with stuffed animals. I just never realized you were.
Yeah. It’s a recent thing. Elwin brought it to me after everything that happened with my dad, and at first I wanted to tear its head off or something—I was pretty angry back then.
A wave of bitter memories flooded his mind and Sophie did her best to block them. She didn’t want to relive those moments any more than Fitz did.
Anyway, he thought, turning his head away and blinking a few times, I’d shoved the stupid dragon under my bed and forgotten about it for a few days. But then I had a really bad nightmare and I couldn’t stop shaking. And I remembered that day when I had to take you away from your family, how you were sobbing on the floor and nothing seemed to help until you told me to go get Ella. As soon as I gave her to you, you were suddenly okay. I mean, I could see you were still struggling. But you were better, too. So I grabbed the stupid fluffy dragon and held on tight, and for some reason I can’t sleep without it now—even though things are back to normal. Well . . . mostly normal.
His mind filled with the same fears Sophie felt when she thought about Alden—only about a thousand times worse.
Your dad’s going to be okay, she promised.
I know. But she could see there were still doubts in his mind.
Does the dragon have a name? she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
I was hoping you wouldn’t ask. He didn’t look at her as he added, Elwin named it . . . Mr. Snuggles.
Sophie covered her mouth to block her laugh, but it slipped out her nose in a snort.
Fitz snorted too, and they both burst into a fit of giggles.
“I take it things are going well?” Tiergan asked, opening one eye to study them. “Keep it up, you’ll see the value in this exercise by the end.”
Next time I’m at your house I want to meet Mr. Snuggles, Sophie transmitted to Fitz.
I figured you were going to say that. And fine—but only if Biana’s not around. She’d tell Keefe and then it’d be over.
I can’t believe they haven’t found Mr. Snuggles already.
I have him very well hidden. And I think that’s more than enough humiliation for me right now. Your turn.
Sophie’s stomach dropped with a thud.
She reached up to tug out an eyelash, trying to think of something that wasn’t too embarrassing.
Okay, she transmitted after at least another minute had passed. But this is a big secret. You seriously can’t tell anyone, okay?
Of course, Fitz promised. Just like I’m counting on you to keep Mr. Snuggles to yourself.
Sophie smiled. But two more eyelashes were flicked to the floor before she quietly transmitted, The Black Swan gave me a Spyball.
Wow. I’m super jealous. I’ve been begging my dad for one for years. You have it hidden, right?
Yeah. Though she wondered if Sandor knew about it.
Good, Fitz told her. Because you’re right, you could get yourself another tribunal. All Spyballs have to be registered and monitored to make sure they’re not being abused.
I know. I thought about turning it in. But . . . it’s the only way I can see my old family. Make sure the rebels aren’t doing anything to them to try to get to me.
Do you think they’d do that?
I have no idea. They seem to be willing to do anything.
An image of Silveny’s unconscious body filled her mind, and she had to remind herself that there were extra security measures at the Sanctuary now.
And you don’t think the Council will protect them? Fitz asked.
Sophie shifted, choosing her answer carefully. I think the Council underestimates the danger we’re in.
I do too, Fitz admitted. In fact, sometimes . . .
Sometimes what? Sophie asked when he didn’t finish. It can be your second secret, if that helps.
Fitz twisted his fingers, cracking each knuckle before he told her, Sometimes I wish my dad would resign as an Emissary. I know, it’s crazy, right?
Why is it crazy?
Because it’s, like, the most important position anyone can have—besides Councillor.
And one of the most dangerous, Sophie reminded him.
Fitz’s head snapped up, and she worried she’d transmitted the wrong thing. But he smiled. Sometimes I forget how nice it is to talk to you.
Sophie’s face burned, and it was the best kind of warm. Like the steam from a thick cup of hot chocolate wafting against her cheeks.
I mean it, Fitz thought. I think you might be the only person who really understands how messy our world is getting. Everyone else—even my dad—wants to pretend everything is about to go back to normal.
But you don’t think it will?
I think things are going to get way worse before they get better. Look how many close calls we’ve already had.
His mind replayed the different plantings he’d been to.
His dad’s.
Dex’s.
Hers.
It was bizarre to watch her own funeral from someone else’s eyes, and Sophie wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or run away or reach out and take Fitz’s hand. Especially when he told her, I stood there and watched your tree sprout out of the ground. Then you came back, but you were so faded it looked like you were going to disappear. And even though I wasn’t there for this
—he traced his finger over the star-shaped scar on her hand—Keefe painted a pretty painful picture of how almost dead you looked. So I want you to know that I’m not going to sit at home anymore, worrying about what might be happening to you, or Keefe, or Biana, or my dad. I’m going to be right there with you guys, helping any way I can.
Maybe it was the absolute conviction of his words.
Or the warm touch of his hand.
Whatever it was, Sophie softly transmitted, Okay.
Fitz let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. Wow, you agreed to that way easier than I thought you would.
I know, Sophie told him. And I’m still tempted to take it back.
Uh-uh, no takesies backsies—especially after I told you about Mr. Snuggles. But I’ll make you a deal. You agree to let me help, and we’ll count it as one of your secrets. So that would mean we’d each only have one left.
Getting out of a secret sounded like a pretty good trade—especially since she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to stop Fitz from helping her anyway.
Deal, she told him, smiling as he nodded.
But her smile faded when he told her, I think you should have to go first this time.
The only other thing she could think to share was something she didn’t even want to admit to herself. But she didn’t have anything else.
Okay, here goes, she transmitted, shoving out the words before she could change her mind. I . . . don’t want to know who my biological parents are.
Wow—you’re not even a tiny bit curious?
About the people who gave me up to be some crazy experiment—knowing the kind of danger it would put me in?
Do you think they knew?
How could they not?
How could they? Remember, Sophie, before you came along, kidnappings didn’t happen.
Maybe. But don’t forget, the Black Swan hid me. They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t worried about my safety.
Yeah, I guess that’s true. Fitz sighed, his fingers absently tracing the Vacker crest on his Foxfire cape—a pair of yellow, diamond-encrusted wings. But I think I’d still have to know who my parents are. I mean, what if I ran into them and I had no idea?
Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) Page 17
