Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (37 page)

Despite the Black Swan’s prediction, nothing dark or dour happened during the next three days.

Sandor haunted Sophie’s every move, even though all she did was organize more trunks of wedding decorations in Edaline’s office—finding nothing useful, interesting, or related to the Black Swan in any of them—and hang out in her room.

Dex was too busy working on the ability restrictor to visit. But he hailed her every night, and didn’t even freak out—too much—when she told him about the meeting with the Black Swan. He did, of course, ask if he could go. But Sophie told him the same thing she’d told Fitz and Biana:
She couldn’t risk scaring the Black Swan away.

Biana tried to convince Sophie that she could sneak along as a Vanisher, but since she couldn’t stay invisible for longer than a few minutes, she had to admit she couldn’t handle it. She stopped coming over as often, so she could practice vanishing with Della. Which worked out well because Fitz wanted to work with Sophie on triggering her memories.

He’d stop by every afternoon to test new trust exercises, but nothing seemed to work—even when he had her stand on a chair and fall backward into his arms. He did catch her, without even bruising her. But all it earned them was some serious teasing from Keefe, who’d showed up just in time to find Fitz cradling her.

Keefe spent the rest of the day begging for a turn and promising he’d only drop her once.

It was frustrating and discouraging—but somehow comforting at the same time. Like life had found a path back to normal, despite school being canceled and news of the Councillor nominations trickling in.

Most of the nominees Sophie had never heard of. But she was surprised to hear Dame Alina’s name in the mix.

“Do you think she’ll win?” Sophie asked Grady when she finally caught him at breakfast on the third morning.

With all noble assignments on hold during the mourning period, Grady had been working long hours in Eternalia, helping the gnomes organize their cleanup project. Apparently they were saving all the shards of jewels to build a monument to Kenric’s legacy—which Sophie knew was an awesome idea. But she wasn’t sure she could bear seeing it when it was finished.

“Alden seems to think Dame Alina has several supporters,” Grady said, serving Sophie a huge slice of the purple porcaroot pie Edaline had conjured up before heading out to work in the pastures. “Why? Are you afraid of losing your principal?”

Actually, Dame Alina was Sophie’s top pick. She’d been extra kind and supportive at Foxfire lately—and she always sided with Alden. Having her on the Council would guarantee another vote in Sophie’s favor.

Sophie took a bite of her breakfast, relieved when it tasted like bacon mixed with more bacon and covered in melting cheese. Gnomes really did grow the best tasting vegetables—though she had yet to discover a pizza-flavored one.

“How long do you think it’s going to take the Council to come to a decision,” she asked between mouthfuls.

“Oh, I think they’ll elect someone as soon as the nomination period has ended. Not only is King Dimitar waiting on your punishment”—he cleared his throat—“but our world needs to know we have our leaders settled again. People need to feel safe. And speaking of
safe
. . .”

He scooted closer, taking her hand. “Just because we haven’t talked about this meeting with the Black Swan tonight doesn’t mean I’m totally okay with it.”

“So . . . you don’t think I should go?” Sophie asked, still having doubts herself.

“Actually, I think we need to find out what the Black Swan wants. But I don’t trust them—and I definitely don’t trust the Neverseen—so I’m going to insist that Sandor go with you. And not just to the Wanderling Woods.
Anywhere
they take you. None of that
drugging you and taking you somewhere all alone
stuff like last time. “

“They might not allow that,” Sophie warned him. “Last time they wouldn’t let Keefe go with me.”

“I can be
much
more persuasive than Mr. Sencen,” Sandor said, patting his weapon-filled pockets. “And if they refuse, I shall drag the two of you home—immediately.”

“But—”

“This is not up for debate,” Grady interrupted. “You are not to go anywhere without your bodyguard—and that applies to everything for right now. If Sandor’s not with, you don’t go, understood? Not until things settle down.”

“Fine,” Sophie mumbled. She knew a losing fight when she saw it.

Plus, she had a feeling she knew what “things” Grady meant. She’d caught Fitz and Keefe whispering about an Exile Sophie Foster! campaign that apparently had a ton of supporters.

As she’d heard Keefe put it, the Lost Cities were not a “Foster friendly” place at the moment.

She pushed aside her plate, no longer feeling hungry.

Grady pushed it back—and added two pink folded pastries. “That’s another thing. I know you’re under a lot of stress. But you still need to eat. And sleep. And do things with your friends that don’t involve conspiracies or rebels or testing your abilities. Childhood is a precious gift, Sophie. Don’t let anything steal it away.”

Sophie nibbled on one of the pastries—which tasted like crepes soaked in butter and sugar. “It’s not really my choice, is it?”

“Yes, it is. I wish I could give you a world where everything was perfect and shining and safe. I used to think that’s what we had, but . . .” He shook his head. “I’ve realized now that our world doesn’t define us. We define our world. And I hope you’ll fill yours with as much light and happiness as you can.”

“You realize how silly that sounds, right?”

“I do. But after everything that’s happened, I think we could all use a bit more silly in our lives.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and all too soon the sun was setting and Sophie was bundled in a thick black cape and heading to the Leapmaster, hopeful she was doing the right thing.

Of course Grady and Edaline were waiting for her.

She braced for a long lecture—and an even longer list of rules and warnings.

All they did was hug her.

“Really? That’s it?” Sophie asked as they called the crystal for the Wanderling Woods.

“Why?” Edaline asked.

“Because I’m going off to a dark, lonely forest to meet with a group of rebels, one of whom might be a traitor.”

“We trust you,” Edaline promised.

“And we trust Sandor,” Grady added.

Sandor pounded his burly chest—which was now strapped with two rather terrifying daggers. Sheathed next to his sword was an obscurer and a melder—one of the rare Elvin weapons Sophie kept hoping she’d never have to see again.

“Nothing will get past me,” he promised.

Sophie nodded. But she couldn’t help remembering the way King Dimitar had tossed him aside like a piece of trash.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” Grady told her quietly.

“Yes, I do.”

She repeated the words in her mind until her legs felt strong enough to move. Then she took Sandor’s hand—glad she had someone to hold on to—and let the light carry her to the Black Swan.

FORTY-NINE

A
BOUT TIME YOU GOT HERE,”
Keefe said, smirking at Sophie from the archway to the Wanderling Woods. “And it looks like we have a chaperone. What kind of lame party is this?”

“One where you will both come home alive—and without any broken bones,” Sandor said, sniffing the air and scanning the trees around them.

“But Sophie didn’t have any broken bones last ti—wait! Does this mean Gigantor is starting to
care
about me? Should we hug it out?”

He held out his arms.

Sandor shoved past him. “Stay behind me—and keep in mind that Miss Foster is, and always will be, my first priority.”

“Mine too,” Keefe said as he fell in step beside Sophie.

As soon as they crossed into the Woods, Sandor strayed off the regular path, cutting through the grassy knolls that looked far less tranquil covered in shadow. The Wanderlings had hidden their flowers and leaves, turning the trees into a forest of skeletons. And the silence felt different in the twilight. Sharper and colder—like the woods was holding its breath. Waiting to pounce.

“Relax, Foster,” Keefe said, taking her hand—and then immediately dropping it. “Sheesh—keep up that kind of worrying and you’re going to make us both hurl. Plus, that clenched jaw thing you’re doing makes you look like an angry chipmunk.”

Sophie pretended to ignore him—but she did force her jaw to relax.

“Did your parents give you a hard time about going tonight?” she asked, needing to break the eerie silence.

“A little,” Keefe admitted. “My dad has apparently decided that my connection to you could ruin the Sencen name—which is awesome, by the way. Now I get to hang with you
and
tick my dad off. Win and win!”

He elbowed Sophie until she smiled.

“What about your mom?” Sophie asked.

“Eh, she said, and I quote, ‘Can’t you rescue the alicorn again? It’s been nice actually having a son I can brag about.’”

He mimicked Lady Gisela’s voice perfectly, which made the words that much more awful.

Sophie reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Keefe shrugged.

Several seconds passed before he added, “My dad did make sure I wore a cape to keep warm. So I guess that counts as worrying about me. Maybe?”

“Definitely,” Sophie agreed, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

“Yeah. Though of course my mom told me I fastened it too loosely and insisted I repin it.
Twice
.”

Now it looked tight enough to choke him, and his Sencen crest was digging into his chin.

Sophie squeezed his hand harder.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, their breaths turning to huffs as the ground became steeper and steeper. Cold sweat dripped down Sophie’s back as they crested the hill, but it was worth the climb when she spotted her Wanderling.

Dangling from one of the thin, fragile branches was a small twinkling bottle strung with a silver satin ribbon.

Sandor shoved Keefe and Sophie behind him as he sniffed the air, and then the fragile vial. Then he slowly untied the ribbon and offered it to Sophie. “It appears to be safe—but I would not advise opening it.”

“I don’t think we need to,” she said, lifting the bottle to study it against the night sky.

The blue glow was filled with tiny flecks of darkness and shimmer, all of which swirled like glitter in a snow globe. And when she traced her finger along the cold, damp glass, the memory finally triggered.

“This is light from Lucilliant. It’s one of the unmapped stars.”

“Okay,” Keefe said, leaning closer to the bottle. “That explains why it looks so freaky. Any idea what we do with it? Or is it just like . . . a fun souvenir we get to keep from tonight’s daring journey?”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure the journey is just getting started.” She pulled back her sleeve and removed her charm bracelet, holding up the black swan charm. “Magsidian can also serve as a leaping crystal, and I’ve seen it work differently with different kinds of light. I’m betting they want us to use the glow from Lucilliant to leap to the real meeting place.”

Keefe grinned. “Cute
and
smart. No wonder Dex gave you a ring.”

“That’s—I . . .” Sophie hid behind her hair. “You ready?”

“I should go first,” Sandor decided.

“You can’t leap without one of us,” Sophie reminded him. “And even if you could, you might not be able to come back here. We don’t know how this is going to work.”

“Then perhaps we shouldn’t go,” Sandor argued.

“Aw, come on—where’s your sense of adventure?” Keefe asked.

“It is overshadowed by my sense of responsibility. My job is to bring you home safe.”

“There you go, caring about me again,” Keefe said with a grin. “But come on, you know we need to find out what the Black Swan is up to—that’s why we came here.”

Sandor looked like he wanted to pick them both up and drag them back to Havenfield. But he released his death grip on Sophie’s hand, letting her press the charm against the glowing vial.

The tiny swan crusted with a thin layer of frost as a beam of sparkling, swirling blue light refracted at her feet.

“That. Is. Awesome!” Keefe said as he looped his arm through hers. “You ready, Gigantor?”

A squeaky snort was Sandor’s only reply. But he curled one massive hand around Sophie’s arm, keeping his other on the hilt of his blade as Keefe pulled them into the icy light.

The cold rush was a tempest.

Tearing and shredding and turning turning turning.

Sophie tried to scream or cry or call someone’s name, but she couldn’t think—couldn’t function. She was empty. She was nothing. She was—

—slamming into the hot ground like a bug against a windshield, then tumbling tumbling tumbling until she collapsed in a heap.

“Okay,” Keefe said, choking on the dry, dusty air. “I am definitely not a fan of that kind of leaping. Let’s call a normal beam of light for the way home, shall we?”

“I don’t think we can.” Sophie pulled herself to her feet—coughing and hacking as she used the glow of Lucilliant to show him the stalagmite-covered ceiling. “We just leaped underground.”