“They’re working to gather the rest of the ingredients for the frissyn,” Alden explained as a Councillor with bronze-colored skin rushed over. She snapped her fingers—making Sophie realize she must be Councillor Liora—and a stellarscope appeared in her hands.
“We need two dozen,” she told Sophie, snapping her fingers again to conjure up a satchel filled with twenty-four small empty bottles.
Alden tightened his grip on Sophie’s shoulder. “You need to be very careful when you transport the bottles back. That’s enough quintessence to take out a few hundred miles.”
“Great,” Sophie mumbled, grabbing the stellarscope. “Wait—what do you mean transport?”
He pulled his pathfinder out of his pocket and gave it to Fitz. “There’s too much smoke here blocking the stars. I’ve set the path to Siren Rock. Hail me before you leap back.”
“I know which facet will take us here,” Fitz said, shouldering the bag of tiny bottles as he reached for Sophie’s hand.
“Yes, I know,” Alden said sadly. “But you’ll need to make sure it’s safe to return. The Everblaze has caught the wind and is heading toward the river. By the time you’ve bottled the quintessence, this whole city could be up in flames.”
THIRTY-SIX
WARM SALTY WIND PRICKLED THEIR noses as Sophie and Fitz reappeared on a long stretch of pristine beach. The waves glowed with swirls of pink and green, but it felt wrong to be somewhere safe and breathtaking while the world was burning.
“How did this happen?” Fitz asked quietly. “I didn’t even feel Fintan move. How could he have called down Everblaze?”
Sophie didn’t have an answer.
“We should get started,” she said, tucking the stellarscope under her arm and reaching for the first glass bottle. She didn’t realize she was shaking until the bottle slipped from her hands, landing with a soft thud in the silky white sand.
“Hey,” Fitz said, catching the scope as she nearly dropped it, too. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
But she could hear the tears rising in her throat, and now that she felt them, she couldn’t hold them back.
Fitz pulled her close, letting her cry on his shoulder as he whispered, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” She wiped her runny nose on her smoky, singed sleeve. “Do you think everyone got out in time?”
“I don’t think my dad would’ve kept that from us, do you?”
“I guess not.”
But they both knew Alden was very good at hiding things.
“I’m sorry I wouldn’t let you search for your dad,” she whispered.
“You mean when I wanted to run into the fire like an idiot?” His chest heaved with a sigh. “Thank you for stopping me. And um . . . thanks for saving my life. I was way too panicked to figure out how to get out of there.”
“Yeah, well you saved me first. I had no idea the Everblaze was burning. If you hadn’t pulled me back, I doubt I would’ve gotten out of there in time.”
“I guess this proves we make a good team.”
A stretch of silence passed before he whispered, “Do you really think Eternalia is going to burn?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She pulled away and grabbed the stellarscope, remembering why they were there. A tiny spout protruded from the narrow end of the scope, and she attached a bottle and hefted the heavy gadget up to her eye.
“Which star do you need to find?” Fitz asked, lining up the other bottles on the sand.
“Elementine is one of the unmapped stars.” She could only find it because of the Black Swan’s carefully planted secrets.
She searched the sky for the six stars her Universe assignment had taught her to look for. The list had actually been prepared by the Black Swan as a clue, and when she connected the dots between the stars, the lines pointed to an empty space, where Elementine was hidden by the darkness.
“Wait,” Fitz said, removing his cape. He tore off two long shreds from the end and handed them to her. “Elwin still talks about how bad the burns on your hands were.”
Sophie could definitely remember the pain—though the yeti pee balm he’d used to treat the injuries had probably been the worst part of the experience.
She handed Fitz the stellarscope and tied the strips around her hands like bandages. The thick fabric should keep her skin protected, but it also made her grip super slippery.
“Here,” Fitz said, tying up his own hands with more cape shreds and moving behind her. He cupped his mummy palms under hers, cradling the scope from underneath. “Is that better? Or is this weird?”
“It’s not weird,” she promised, surprised to realize she meant it.
It had felt weird when she’d stood in a nearly identical position with Dex a few months back. But it was different with Fitz.
“So which way are we looking?” Fitz asked, resting his arms on Sophie’s shoulders.
Sophie squinted through the viewfinder, tracing the trails through the stars until she focused on a patch of darkness.
She could tell Fitz was skeptical as she adjusted the knobs—and then adjusted them again. And again. But when she flipped the switch, thick silvery starlight streaked from the sky—knocking them both backward as it crashed into the scope.
“Is it supposed to be freezing?” Fitz asked as he carefully removed the sealed bottle.
“That’s how it was last time. Only the scope gets hot.” White hot, actually. She adjusted her grip, relieved to feel only a hint of warmth seeping through her makeshift gloves as she screwed on the next empty bottle.
Fitz nestled the quintessence in the sand, making sure it couldn’t tip over.
They worked through the majority of the bottles just as quickly. But the strain of the concentration gave Sophie a headache, and by the time they reached the final five, she could barely see straight.
“Can I help?” Fitz asked as she rubbed her blurry eyes. “If you tell me how to find Elementine, I should be able to do the rest.”
“It’s not really something I can tell. You have to know what to look for, otherwise you’ll never find it.”
“Okay, then can you show me? Transmit your memories of everything you look at when you’re finding it—I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out from there.”
Sophie wasn’t convinced that would work, but her raging headache insisted she try it. She handed Fitz the stellarscope and they traded places—which felt way more awkward given their height difference.
“I think you’re shorter than Biana,” Fitz teased as she stood on her tiptoes so she could see the sky over his shoulders.
“She always wears heels.”
“I guess that is sort of cheating,” Fitz agreed. “You ready?”
“One second.”
She opened her mind to his, then realized she’d forgotten to ask his permission beforehand.
Fitz shrugged as she apologized, his shoulder blade nearly clipping her nose. I don’t mind having you know what I’m thinking, Sophie. I trust you.
Her cheeks turned warm. I trust you, too.
Then send me those images and let’s finish this.
Right.
She tried to transmit the memories, but sending images took more energy than she’d expected. And with her mind already so tired, she couldn’t seem to find enough force.
But she could feel a hint of brain push energy tucked deep in the back of her mind, and when she mixed it with what was left of her concentration, she was finally able to shove the memories into Fitz’s head.
“Wow, that was crazy. I think you sent me all of your memories of the stars.”
“Did I?”
She checked his thoughts and sure enough, his mind was struggling to process a never-ending stream of star maps.
“Oh—sorry!”
“Are you kidding? I’ll never have to study for the Universe again!”
It did take a couple of minutes for him to find the information he needed—precious time they couldn’t spare. But once he found it, he bottled the quintessence on the first try.
“I can see why you have a headache,” he told her as she changed out the bottle for him. “I feel like my brain started to stretch as I concentrated.”
Still, he bottled the last four just as quickly, and a few minutes later they had all the quintessence wrapped in shredded cape and loaded carefully into the bag.
“I’ll hail Alden,” Sophie said as Fitz pulled out the pathfinder and spun the crystal.
Alden didn’t answer.
She told herself he was just busy, and that everything was going to be okay.
But when they finally leaped to the outskirts of Eternalia, they found the glittering city burning wildly with Everblaze.
THIRTY-SEVEN
SOPHIE AND FITZ SPRINTED TOWARD the city, weaving around rivers of melted-jewel lava. Dozens of buildings had already oozed away—with more catching fire every second—and Sophie sent a silent plea into the night, hoping no one was inside.
“We have to find my dad!” Fitz yelled as Sophie stopped and pressed her hands to her head.
“I know. I’m trying to track him.”
Her mind could trace the sound of someone’s thoughts to their exact location. But she was having a hard time concentrating, between the heat and the crackling and the pound-pound-pounding of her heart. She wished she could take a deep breath to clear her throbbing head. But the smoke was too thick and bitter, so she closed her eyes and forced herself to tune out everything except the voice she needed to find.
For several seconds she couldn’t hear anything. Then Tiergan’s panicked, overwhelmed thoughts filled her mind.
“They’re by the river!” she shouted, cradling the bottles of quintessence as she took off downstream with Fitz right behind her.
Everything burned—her chest, her legs, her eyes—but she pushed herself to move faster, wanting to cry with relief when she spotted what looked like a makeshift lab, complete with glowing beakers and test tubes and some sort of bubbling cauldron. Standing next to a white-robed figure was a blissfully familiar face.
“Tiergan!” Sophie shouted, doubling her speed.
He ran toward her once he spotted her, and even though she knew he wasn’t a hugger—and she was carrying a large bag of very explosive bottles—she threw her arms around him, clinging to him in the eerie, flickering light.
“Where’s my father?” Fitz asked between wheezing breaths.
“He’s safe. He went with Lady Galvin to collect the only other ingredient we need for the frissyn. She’s been giving us a long lecture on how we should’ve kept some in reserve after last time.”
“She’s right,” Sophie said, surprised she actually agreed with her evil ex–alchemy instructor about anything.
“I know.” Tiergan took the bag of quintessence from her and led them back toward the lab. “I’ll have Kesler start prepping this.”
“Kesler’s here?” Sophie asked, wondering if that meant Dex was as well.
“Every alchemist we could find is here. Plus a fleet of gnomes who volunteered to help us distribute the frissyn. The fire should be out quickly once we have what we need.”
Sophie hoped he was right. And she felt better handing the quintessence over to Kesler and seeing him immediately add some to the cauldron. He also assured her that Dex was home safe.
Still, it was agonizing to stand there, watching the beautiful jeweled city melt in the flames, while Kesler stirred beakers and measured liquids and they waited waited waited.
Fitz had worn a groove into the ground from his pacing when Alden’s familiar voice called, “Thank goodness you’re both back!” and Sophie and Fitz ran to tackle him.
“I was so worried about you,” Alden told them, hugging so tight Sophie couldn’t breathe—but maybe that was a good thing.
“Ugh—why do you stink?” Fitz asked, leaning back as far as Alden would let him.
“Sasquatch saliva was the last ingredient we needed.”
“But we got it,” a sharp voice said behind him, making them realize Alden hadn’t returned alone.
Lady Galvin—who looked less terrifying than usual with green sasquatch fur sticking out of her bun—held up a large flask filled with cloudy yellow liquid. Even though it had a cork, Sophie could smell the rancid stench radiating from it.
“I’m assuming you collected the quintessence?” she asked Sophie, stalking over to Kesler and examining his cauldron. “It looks like you managed to do it without anything exploding, either. Well done. Now we can finally clean up this mess.”
Everyone cheered when they finished brewing the first batch of frissyn—which turned out to be a shimmering silver powder. But Sophie didn’t feel like celebrating as she watched a group of gnomes set to work dusting the first line of flames. All she could see was the destruction all around her. And she knew none of it would’ve happened if she hadn’t healed Fintan.
She closed her eyes and let the truth nestle deep into her brain.
She needed to face it.
Accept it.
Own up to the reality.
Partially for her own sanity—but mostly because there would surely be backlash when the news hit the public.
“You two have had a very long night,” Alden said, joining Sophie and Fitz on the hill where they’d been watching. “I think it’s time we go home, don’t you?”
“Do Grady and Edaline know about the Everblaze?” Sophie asked.
“Not yet. I didn’t think it would be wise to involve them until the fires were contained. But now . . . there is much to explain.”
Sophie met his eyes, realizing there was a deeper emotion hiding behind the stress and exhaustion and worry.
Grief.
“Everything’s okay, right?” she asked quietly. “Nobody was . . . ?”
She couldn’t say it.
Hated even having to think it.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” Alden told her, offering her a hand.
“No—you have to tell me what happened. I can’t . . .” A lump lodged in her throat, threatening to choke her. “If someone was hurt, I need to know.”
Alden’s lips formed one word—but at the last second he changed it to, “I really think you should rest before we talk about this.”
“Like I’ll be able to sleep now.”
“She’s right, Dad,” Fitz agreed.
Alden looked about a thousand years old as he sat down between them and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”
The words seemed to swallow the air around them.
Alden had told Sophie she’d be facing a tribunal, and that she had to go to Exile, and that she had to leave her human family and have her whole life erased.
What could be worse than that?
And then she knew.
“Someone’s dead,” she said quietly, as her mind ran through a list of names and faces.
It was hard to remember who she’d seen safe and who she hadn’t—but as she played the night back she realized someone was missing.
Fitz reached for her hand, squeezing so hard it probably would’ve hurt if Sophie hadn’t already turned numb.
Still, she felt a million needles press into her heart when Alden swallowed back a sob and said, “Actually, it was two people. Both Fintan and Councillor Kenric never made it out of the tower.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
NO,” SOPHIE SAID, JERKING AWAY from Fitz. “Not Kenric.”
There had to be a mistake.
She raced down the hill, promising herself that she would find a smiling Kenric standing with the cluster of figures in the distance.
/> Instead she found the rest of the Councillors gathered around a sobbing Oralie.
“No!” Sophie shouted, spinning around to head to Oblivimyre.
The ground felt slippery as she ran, but Sophie pushed forward, ordering her legs not to trip.
Everything would be better once she got there. She’d find a secret compartment he’d hidden in, or a clue to where he’d leaped to, or . . .
She screeched to a halt when she realized the slick ground was purple.
A few feet away, a lone silver fencepost stuck out of the sea of melted jewel—all that remained of Oblivimyre.
“No,” she cried again, dropping to her knees.
“I’m sorry,” Alden said behind her, placing a gentle hand on her trembling shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She didn’t even know Kenric that well. But he’d always been kind—and was always the first to take her side. She couldn’t imagine the Council without him.
“He can’t really be gone,” she whispered, feeling hot tears streak down her face.
Alden pulled her close, his body shaking harder than hers as he told her, “I’m afraid he is. Kenric charged Fintan when the room started raining Everblaze. He managed to shove you, Fitz, and Oralie away, but then Fintan’s body exploded with flames. There was nothing we could do. I—”
His voice broke, and he needed several deep breaths before he could speak again.
“We’re going to have to be brave, Sophie. I’m sorry to ask that of you, but Kenric’s loss is going to be deeply, deeply felt by our citizens. People are going to need to see that everything is going to be okay.”
“But it’s not!” she yelled, backing away from him.
The loss was too huge this time.
They’d lost a Councillor.
A hole opened inside of her as she thought of how many people had told her not to do the healing.
“I should’ve listened,” she whispered, barely able to breathe. “It’s my fault.”
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