Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (27 page)

Sharp jostling pulled her out of the frenzy, and Sophie realized Oralie and Fitz were shaking her shoulders.

Sorry,
she transmitted, concentrating on Fitz’s thoughts.

His worry was so thick she could feel it tangling around her.

We’ve been trying to wake you up for a
really
long time,
he told her.

Really?
I don’t know what happened. I followed the warmth like I always do. But I ended up in a very dark place.

Is it something I could help with?

Not yet. His mind is still too broken.

And you’re sure you can handle it? It’s not worth risking your sanity, Sophie.

Actually, it was.

This was her chance to find the rebels—and Jolie’s killer.

She wasn’t giving up that easily.

I know what to expect this time. And I’ll let you know if I need you,
she promised.

No—you’ll let me know when he’s healed and it’s safe for me to join you, whether you think you need me or not,
he corrected.

Fine,
she told him, feeling her lips smile.

She gave herself three slow, deep breaths to steady her nerves. Then she channeled her mental energy back into Fintan’s mind.

The heat felt stronger this time, like standing in the middle of a fire. But Sophie rallied her concentration and pushed through the fog of splinters, deep into the center of his consciousness. She could go anywhere from there, and every path looked the same. But she had a plan this time. A trick she’d forgotten about earlier.

Inflicting.

She doubted Fintan would respond to love or joy or peace. But she could feed him pride and triumph, and hope it drew him back. So she inflicted the victory of every A she’d earned in school, and the confidence from every compliment she’d ever been paid.

The positive energy hummed through the darkness, a deep rumble that seemed to build with each infliction, parting the sea of shredded memories and creating a new path.

Sophie followed it slowly, watching for signs of another trap. But the way was clear. And when she reached the end of the trail, she found the nook she’d been searching for.

She transmitted Fintan’s name again, begging him to find her—and when there was still no reply she went back to inflicting. She shared more triumphs, more celebrations, and the sweet relief of forgiveness. But nothing seemed to reach him—until she realized she’d been overlooking his greatest passion. The triumph that had defined him and ruined him in the same instant.

Everblaze.

She drew on the wonder and power she’d felt when she faced down a fire line of the neon yellow flames, letting the energy swell into a force before she shoved it into Fintan’s mind.

Something started to stir, and she used the momentum, drawing on her memories of the heat and the smoke.

Each emotion she inflicted made the fog around her shift, until it swirled into a storm that showered her with splintered memories.

But still, no sign of Fintan.

Unsure what to do, she drew on the only other emotion she could think of—the strongest reaction she’d felt when she faced the unstoppable flames.

Fear.

She relived every panicked second of that day, letting the terror swell inside her mind until she thought she might burst from the pressure. Then she called for Fintan one last time and blasted him with the energy, gasping when it melted the darkness and set fire to the rain of memories.

Somewhere among the flames, Fintan’s deep voice whispered through the smoke.

I knew you’d come back for me, Sophie. And now everyone will pay.

THIRTY-FOUR

W
HAT’S WRONG?” SOMEONE SHOUTED AS
Sophie jerked backward, shivering and flailing in someone’s icy grip. It took her a second to realize it was Fitz.

“He was waiting for me,” she whispered, glancing behind her, expecting Fintan to spring up and attack.

He was still unconscious on the floor.

“I don’t understand.” She tried to pull away from Fitz, but her legs weren’t ready. “I—He . . .”

“You’re safe,” Fitz promised. “He’s not even awake.”

“But he should be. I brought him back and it was like he’d been waiting for me. He told me everyone was going to pay.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a memory?” Tiergan asked, moving to Fintan’s side.

He lifted one of Fintan’s arms and dropped it, letting it fall to the floor with an icy crunch.

“He hasn’t moved this whole time,” Kenric added. “I was watching him closely, and nothing changed until you started screaming.”

“And I felt only the slightest shift in his mood,” Oralie added quietly.

“Hmm.” Tiergan closed his eyes and reached for Fintan’s temples, and . . .

. . . ripped his hands away as fast as he could.

“I
can
see his memories piecing themselves back together,” he told them, shaking his head—hard. “But his mind is
very
overwhelming.”

“How so?” Alden asked, reaching for Fintan’s temples.

Tiergan grabbed his hands to stop him. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Especially given your past experiences.”

Alden looked torn for a second. Then slowly dropped his hands to his sides. “Well, his mind was devastatingly shattered in the break. Perhaps it’s taking him longer to recover?”

“Then why was he able to threaten me?” Sophie asked.

Tiergan lifted Fintan’s eyelids before he answered. “I’m not sure if it really was
him
. You said he seemed very prepared for the memory break before you performed it, right?”

Alden and Sophie both nodded.

“Well, then perhaps he built in certain defense mechanisms, and you inadvertently triggered one.”

“Then . . . it’s safe to search his memories?” Sophie asked, cursing herself for falling for a cheap trick.

“I’m not sure
safe
is the right word,” Alden said, running his hands through his hair. “Perhaps we should give it a bit more time?”

“But what if that was his plan?” Sophie argued. “What if he left that message to frighten me away so he’d have time to destroy important memories?”

“I don’t know if the mind truly works that way,” Kenric said, taking Alden’s place at Fintan’s side. “But let’s see . . .”

He pressed his fingers against Fintan’s forehead, gritting his teeth and sucking in sharp breaths until he finally stumbled back.

“Wow,” he whispered, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve. “His mind is a
maze
. I can’t . . .”

He groaned and rubbed his temples.

Oralie rushed to his side, tracing one soft finger across the crease puckering his brow.

“Thanks,” he whispered, sighing as he pressed his face into her palm. “You always make everything better.”

Oralie smiled, gently cradling his head, before they both seemed to realize they weren’t alone.

“Sorry,” Kenric mumbled, clearing his throat. He straightened up as he told them, “I’ve never entered a mind so twisted before. I don’t know how you lasted so long in there, Sophie.”

“It wasn’t fun,” she admitted, though she hadn’t noticed that the mind was a maze. Had it shifted since she’d been in there?

“I have to go back,” she decided, moving toward Fintan.

“Not without me,” Fitz insisted. “He’s healed now, right?”

“I don’t know what he is,” Tiergan admitted. “You saw how he affected Kenric.”

“Yes, but Kenric’s a big softie,” Councillor Terik teased. “Every time we take a vote, we can count on Kenric to vote for mercy.”

“That’s why I’m everyone’s favorite. Well,
second
favorite. Empaths always win.”

Oralie blushed.

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Fitz insisted.

“And I applaud your bravery, son,” Alden told him, “I also understand your urgency, Sophie. But haste is never a wise course.”

“Neither is wasting time and overthinking things,” Sophie argued.

“If it helps, I’m not picking up any potential for danger,” Councillor Terik offered.

“Actually, I find that rather more upsetting,” Alden told him.

“So do I,” Tiergan agreed.

“Me too,” Kenric added.

“Are you doubting my abilities?” Councillor Terik’s tone was light—but there was a definite edge of annoyance.

Oralie made her way over to Fintan, tracing her fingertips across his forehead. “He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once. Surely that could confuse your descrying.”

“Perhaps,” Councillor Terik reluctantly agreed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sophie jumped in. “We all knew this was going to be dangerous. I still have to try.”

“I think you mean
we
,” Fitz corrected. “
We
have to try.”

Sophie sighed. “Fitz—”

“Who thinks Sophie should go back into the crazy mind-maze without a guide?” Fitz interrupted, looking to see if anyone would raise their hand.

Alden looked the most tempted—though Councillor Terik was a surprisingly close second.

But no one did.

“If something happens—” Sophie tried.

“What if something happens to you?” Fitz argued. “I can’t sit here uselessly anymore. You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do, but . . .”

“You either trust me or you don’t.”

She really wished there were a Secret Answer Number Three that would keep Fitz safe.

But she knew he was right—and she probably
was
going to need him.

Get ready,
she told him.
We’re going in.

Okay, this is way creepier than I thought it would be,
Fitz admitted, trying to keep up as Sophie raced through the web of eerie flashing memories.

Kenric had definitely been right about Fintan’s mind being a maze. Every turn they made only led to more paths of blaring, mismatched scenes—flickering like living projections—and Sophie quickly lost all track of which way was up or down or where they were supposed to be.

Is this how it was last time with my dad?
Fitz asked as they backtracked from yet another dead end.

It was still overwhelming. But not so . . . calculated.

During Fintan’s memory break, his mind had been a raging river, flooding too fast for her to make sense of most of what she saw. But the maze was slow and deliberate, as if Fintan—however conscious he was—was specifically choosing what he would and wouldn’t let them see. He was stalling them, buying himself time, and Sophie didn’t want to be there when he was finally ready to face them.

Do you think Everblaze would help?
Fitz asked.

Why would I want to . . .
her transmission stopped when she realized Fitz meant their code word.

I don’t think it would.
A brain push needed to have a reason or a direction.

But the thought did give her another idea. . . .

I’m going to try something I never made up a code word for,
she transmitted.

Great—because that’s not terrifying.

Sorry.

She’d totally overlooked her inflicting ability when they made up their list, and she was starting to think emotion might be the key.

Every memory would be linked to both thoughts
and
feelings. So if she could inflict the right emotion into Fintan’s mind, it might lead them to all the related memories attached to the same emotion.

She had no idea if that was actually possible. But it was the only plan she could think of.

She replayed the partial memory she recovered the last time, focusing on the way Fintan had looked as he watched his unknown, unregistered prodigy call down Everblaze from the sky. His lips were curled with a smile—but not a happy smile.

A
proud
smile.

You ready?
she transmitted to Fitz.

I guess. Let’s hope this turns out to be Alden.

She was thinking the same thing—though she felt many reasons to worry.

Still, she focused on the day she’d found out she’d passed all her Level Two midterms, after struggling so hard with some of the tests. A warm rush of pride blossomed inside her head, and she coddled it, nurtured it, fed it bits of other proud moments until she’d built up enough force to blast it out of her mind.

What on earth is that?
Fitz asked as the warmth rushed past them, swirling through the maze of images and turning down a new path.

Sophie chased the warm trail, weaving and dipping and climbing and dropping until they reached a row of images that seemed almost connected.

A younger, kinder Fintan bowed and accepted his Councillor’s crown.

A somewhat older, more serious Fintan stopped the firestorm of an erupting volcano and saved a large family of apatosaurs.

A mishmash of smiling people he’d helped—both human and elvin.

Glimpses of places he’d visited and struggles he’d braved.

He used to be a good person,
Sophie thought quietly.

But this was all before pyrokinesis was banned,
Fitz reminded her.