Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (36 page)

“I’m sorry I haven’t come by sooner,” Dex mumbled, like he knew what she’d been thinking. “I’ve been stuck working on an assignment from the Council.”

“Really?” Fitz asked, the same time Sophie asked, “What assignment?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about it. But you don’t have to worry, it’s totally safe. I’m just testing some gadgets to see if I can improve them. Oh—and get this. I showed Councillor Terik my telepathy enhancer and he thought it had great potential.”

“Seriously?” Fitz asked. “He actually thinks you can enhance someone’s abilities?”

“No,” Dex admitted. “But he thinks I might be able restrict someone’s ability instead. I haven’t had time to tweak it yet because they needed me to finish the other weap—um, gadgets, first. But I think I know what I need to do to make that change.”

“Why would the Council want to restrict someone’s abilities?” Fitz asked, clearly disgusted by the idea.

Sophie was more bothered by Dex’s little slip.

Were the Councillors making
weapons
?

“Uh, because some people shouldn’t be allowed to have abilities,” Dex argued.

“Allowed,”
Fitz repeated.

“Yeah.
Allowed
. Think about it. Restricting Fintan’s ability would’ve saved Councillor Kenric’s life. And his own life. And all of Eternalia.”

“But . . . ,” Sophie started, then realized she had nothing to say.

The Councillors had done everything they could to keep the healing safe. But they could only control the temperature, their clothes, how many people were in the room. They couldn’t control
Fintan
.

“Okay, but . . . controlling
people
with gadgets?” Fitz asked. “That’s creepy.”

He turned to Sophie, like he was expecting her to agree. But she was too stuck on the idea that the whole fire could’ve been prevented with a simple silver circlet.

“They wouldn’t be controlling everyone,” Dex argued. “Just the people who need it.”

“And who decides that?” Fitz asked.

“The Council, obviously. What?” Dex asked when Fitz cringed. “I thought your family was like, the Council’s number one fan club.”

“You clearly know nothing about my family. But I’m not saying I don’t trust the Council. I’m saying I don’t think it’s right to mess with people’s brains.”

“Ha—this coming from a Telepath!”

“Telepaths have rules and restrictions to follow to make sure we don’t abuse our abilities. Sounds like Technopaths need the same.”

“Um, the
Council
is the one asking me to make that gadget, remember?”

“Yeah. That’s what worries me. I think I’m going to go home and see if my dad knows about this. Want to meet up tomorrow to try again?” Fitz asked Sophie as he packed away his memory log.

She nodded, still struggling to process the information overload from the last few minutes.

Fitz gave one quick longing look to Mr. Snuggles as he pulled out his home crystal. Then he left him behind and stepped into the light.

“So what was the ‘joke’ I’m apparently going to freak out about?” Dex asked the second Fitz glittered away.

Sophie sighed and set Mr. Snuggles on her bed. “It was nothing, Dex. Really, honestly, nothing.”

“You’re seriously not going to tell me?”

“Not right now, okay? It’s not important, and maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m having kind of a bad week.”

Her voice caught on the last words.

“You’re right,” Dex said, moving closer. “I just . . . No—no excuses. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Sophie mumbled, wiping her nose.

He reached for her hand, then stopped halfway there, leaving his fingers dangling. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you. I begged my dad to let me help with the Everblaze—mostly so I could make sure you were okay. But he said I wasn’t experienced enough to handle quintessence. So I stayed up all night, watching my panic switch in case you called me. I even kept my shoes on so I wouldn’t have anything to slow me down. But you never called.”

“I’m not going to drag you into danger, Dex.”

“But I
want
you to. That’s why I made you that ring. And I’m sorry I let the Council’s assignment keep me from checking on you. I should’ve made time—though I also wasn’t at the planting, so I didn’t know about King Dimitar until today. That’s why I rushed over.”

“Why weren’t you at the planting?”

“Councillor Terik needed all the gadgets back by this morning, so he could pass them on to the next Technopath—and they needed a ton of work.”

“You can stop calling them gadgets, Dex. I know they’re weapons.”

He hesitated before he said, “Not all of them. Besides, don’t you think it’s good that the Council is realizing they need to be prepared? My dad said that if they’d had a batch of frissyn on hand, most of Eternalia would still be standing.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

But if the elves needed
weapons
. . .

She sat on the edge of her bed and Dex sat beside her—not so subtly knocking Mr. Snuggles to the floor in the process.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You look . . . pretty awful.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, I just mean . . . you can talk to me, you know. Maybe I can help?”

Sophie wished he could. But unless he knew how to find a random window in Italy . . .

“Wait,” she said, rushing to her desk and digging through the drawers.

If she wanted to learn about anything human, she was going to need to access
human
information.

She pulled out her old iPod and switched it on, showing Dex how it said
Searching
on the screen. “I know this is probably going to sound weird, but do you think there’s any way you could make this pick up human signals from where we are?”

He’d already made it solar powered a few months back. Maybe he could use his ability to amplify the antenna or something.

Dex traced his fingers along the screen. “What kind of signals?”

“Anything. Satellite. Wi-Fi. I just need to access the Internet. Remember how I used it to find the bridge we needed when we were in Paris?”

“Yeah, and I still can’t believe that clunky machine was able to help us. But”—he flipped the iPod over and squinted at the back—“I can sense a receiver in here, and it’s super weak. I’m sure if I boost that it’ll pick up whatever you want. It might take me a few days, though. Councillor Terik wanted that ability restrictor as soon as possible.”

“A few days is fine,” she told him—though she hoped it would be sooner.

And that there was a FamousRoundWindowsInItaly.com, complete with detailed directions.

But even if there wasn’t, she was going to find that building.

After Dex left, Sophie spent the rest of the afternoon trying to make a dent in the other half of her punishment: cleaning and organizing Edaline’s office.

She was up to her elbows in tiny silver butterflies when someone behind her snapped their fingers, making all the shimmering insects spring to life and fly around her.

“Whoa, too bad those aren’t spiders or stinkbugs or something,” Keefe said from the doorway. “I could cause some serious chaos.”

“I’m sure you could,” Sophie agreed, watching the butterflies flit and flutter. “It really would’ve been a beautiful wedding, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Keefe agreed. “But robotic spiders would’ve been cooler. They could’ve put them under everyone’s chairs and triggered them during the vows.”

“Wow—you should be a wedding planner.”

“Nah. I’ll save it for my own wedding. Make my bride feel even luckier.” He winked.

“So what’s up?” Sophie asked, before the conversation got any weirder.

“You don’t know why I’m here?”

“Should I?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t you get one of these?”

He stumbled through the maze of boxes and handed her a tiny scroll.

The wax seal had been broken—split in half from when Keefe must’ve opened it.

But Sophie could still perfectly make out the sign of the swan.

FORTY-EIGHT

W
HERE DID YOU GET THIS?”
SOPHIE asked, not sure if she should feel excited or terrified. Mostly she felt confused.

Especially when Keefe told her. “I found it in my cape pocket this morning—
no
idea how it got there. You didn’t get one?”

She checked her pockets to make sure, surprised at how disappointed she was when they were empty. She felt even worse when she read the Black Swan’s message:

C
areful plans have now been changed

S
o a meeting must be arranged.

I
n three days time, when the evening star ascends

F
ind us where the lost have no end.

“They want to meet with you,” Sophie mumbled, reading the message again to be sure.

“I know—they’re finally including me on the team! Hope they know this means their little rule book just went out the window—and the first change I’ll be implementing is
clearer stinking directions
. Any idea ‘where the lost have no end’?”

“Probably in the Wanderling Woods, by my tree. They’ve left me notes there before.”

“And the evening star ascends . . . ?”

“Right after sunset,” Sophie finished.

“Cool. Party with the Black Swan in three days. Bring your dancing shoes, Foster. And maybe try to look a
little
less miserable than you do right now, because it’s a serious bummer. Come on, this is good news!”

“Is it?” she asked. “How do you know it’s not a trap?”

“I don’t,” Keefe admitted. “But even if it is, remember: Last time we met with them you got your abilities fixed and that Forkle dude gave you some answers.”

“And then we almost died,” she reminded him.

“Details, details.” He laughed when she didn’t smile. “I’m kidding, Foster. I do realize it’s a risk. But I think it’s worth it—especially since they want us to meet in the Wanderling Woods. I mean, how bad could that be?”

“Well, for one thing, they only gave a note to you. Not me. Don’t you find that suspicious?”

“That
is
weird,” Keefe admitted. “When was the last time you checked the cave?”

“Not since we realized they had a leak.”

“Then maybe there’s a note there waiting for you. That would make sense, if you think about it. Sandor’s got so many security things around here, the cave is probably the closest they can get.”

“Maybe . . .”

“Gee, try to sound
less
excited. Actually, never mind. Get your shoes on—we’re going to the cave. And get ready for an epic ‘I told you so’ when we find your note waiting.”

Keefe kept true to his word, and his “I told you so” was so loud, it was still echoing around them as Sophie unrolled the tiny scroll. Her note showed the same instructions—but it also included an extra verse:

T
he days ahead will be dark and dour.

Y
ou must not fear yourself or your power.

“Not cool—I didn’t get a present with mine,” Keefe complained as he unhooked a familiar black magsidian swan charm from where it had been latched through the paper.

Magsidian was a rare mineral only the dwarves could mine, and it had the ability to affect certain forces, depending on how it had been cut. The last time they’d used the charm, it had steered the needle of Sophie’s compass toward the Black Swan’s hideout.

She had no idea what they’d need it for this time—but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

“Do you
really
think we should trust them?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder like she expected a fleet of dwarves to pop out of the sand.

“You most definitely should not,” Sandor interrupted, to neither of their surprise.

Sophie was honestly shocked he’d kept quiet as long as he had. Other than a few squeaky sighs, he hadn’t even argued about them going down to the caves. But he was back in full-fledged Overprotective Bodyguard mode as he added, “They’ve already proven that they cannot ensure your protection. I will not let you blindly follow these instructions!”

“But they gave us three days to prepare,” Keefe reminded him. “And they told us where we’re going. I’m betting they knew you were going to freak out about this. So now you can do whatever obsessive safety stuff you want to do first.”

Sandor couldn’t argue with that logic. But he still mumbled, “I do not like it.”

“I don’t either,” Sophie admitted. “I mean, why reach out to us now, after all these weeks of silence?”

“I don’t know—you
did
just tick off the ogre king and almost start a war,” Keefe said with a smirk. “Maybe they decided you shouldn’t be left to your own devices.”

Sandor released another squeaky sigh. “That almost makes sense.”

“Of course it does!” Keefe told him.

Next thing Sophie knew, Sandor and Keefe were coming up with a plan. She tried to listen, but mostly she kept rereading the Black Swan’s note, wondering if they knew something she didn’t.

One line in particular stood out from the others:

The days ahead will be dark and dour.