Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (42 page)

“He’s not okay, you know,” Sophie told Mr. Forkle, shattering the silence that followed.

“Of course he’s not. Are any of us?”

He gathered the gnomes, moving them back to the weed-filled planter and lining them up perfectly straight. Like soldiers.

“Why ‘swan song’?” Sophie asked.

She knew what the phrase meant to humans, but she was hoping it meant something different to the elves.

“It’s a tradition among our group, going back to our earliest days. We knew the course we’d chosen would involve hardship. So we decided that any time one of us was forced to take a great risk or make a large sacrifice, we would alert the others by declaring it our swan song. That way we all knew to brace for very bad days ahead.”

A lump caught in Sophie’s throat and she cleared it away to ask, “Have you ever called it?”

“Many times. Many ways.”

He moved one gnome, separating it from the others.

“Prentice called his the day before he was captured,” he added quietly. “I still haven’t figured out how he knew it was coming.”

“The Council’s never going to approve his healing now. You realize that, right?” Sophie whispered.

“Yes. We’ve been expecting the same thing. And we’d been working on a plan. But after your incident with King Dimitar”—he muttered something under his breath that started with “you kids”—“we’ve put that plan on hold. Best to let the dust settle before stirring anything up again. Besides, we have more urgent things to focus on. You’re going to have to keep a very close eye on Keefe. The guilt and rage he will experience over the course of the week is going to be life changing. He will need a steady friend.”

Sophie nodded.

“Time to go, then.”

“Wait!” Sophie called as he pulled out a noticeably blue pathfinder. “What about Jolie?”

“What about her?”

“I . . . I need to know who she was.”

“She was Grady and Edaline’s daughter.”

“No—that’s not what I mean.” She took a deep breath for courage and shoved the words out. “I need to know who she was
to me
.”

“To you?” He stepped closer, leaning down so they were face-to-face. “You think she’s your mother.”

“Is she?”

He glanced behind him, checking the still-empty street before he told her, “No.”

The crushing relief nearly knocked Sophie off her feet.

“Do not bother asking me who your mother is—that is one piece of information I cannot share.”

The hard lines of his expression made it clear there would be no arguing with him. But now that she knew she wasn’t related to Jolie, she was happy to leave her mother’s true identity a mystery.

Still, she wasn’t ready to let him leave.

“What did she do for you?” she asked, pulling out the mirrored compact to show him. “I know she was connected to the Black Swan.”

He waved the compact away. “I see nothing black. Nor any swan.”

“And I see a pretty bird in the sky,” Sophie argued, pointing to the constellation pattern. She opened the compact and showed him his reflections. “And a human mirror.”

“Fine,” he said, glancing over his shoulder again. “I will not tell you any more than this. Jolie volunteered to infiltrate the rebels. She was working
deep
undercover—which was why she owned nothing bearing the sign of the swan.”

“Did she learn anything?”

“She must have. We’ve long assumed they killed her because of it. But she died before sharing her report, and any record must’ve burned in the fire.”

“But—”

“I told you from the beginning that I wasn’t going to answer all of your questions. I’ve already shared far more than I’d planned. It’s time to go home.”

He leaped away without another word, leaving Sophie and Sandor alone in the dim twilight.

“He’s right,” Sandor said, when Sophie didn’t move. “Without that energy field, we’re at risk for ambush.”

Sophie nodded, reaching for her home crystal—but she froze as a new thought clicked inside her head.

Jolie was working undercover for the Black Swan. So she would’ve known about their tradition with ‘swan song.’

Maybe she finally had the password Vertina needed.

FIFTY-SIX

S
WAN SONG,” SOPHIE WHISPERED, FEELING
her hopes plummet when Vertina’s smile faded. “That isn’t the word you needed?”

Vertina sighed. “No, it is.”

“Okay,” Sophie said slowly. “So . . . aren’t you supposed to tell me something?”

“I am.”

Seconds ticked by and Sophie lost what little patience she had. “Just tell me the stupid secret, okay?”

“If it’s so
stupid
, why should I tell you?”

“BECAUSE I GAVE YOU THE PASSWORD!!!” She backed away, knowing she was dangerously close to tossing Vertina out the window. “Please, Vertina. I don’t have time for this.”

Keefe could hail her any second and say the words that would change everything—and she’d already wasted ten minutes dodging Grady and Edaline’s questions. They were
very
unhappy when she couldn’t tell them who the leak was, and if Sandor hadn’t assured them that they were keeping the secret for good reason, she would probably still be getting interrogated.

Vertina hung her head. “I’m sorry. This is just harder than I thought. I’ve been keeping this secret for so long—and if you’d seen her face when she told me . . .”

“I’m only trying to help her,” Sophie promised.

Vertina closed her eyes, letting two shiny tears streak down her cheeks. Then she whispered, “The truth lies behind the glass that is not a window.”

“The glass that is not a window,” Sophie repeated, wishing it didn’t have to be a riddle. Clearly the Black Swan had trained Jolie in obnoxiousness.

But she could figure this out! She just needed to think of other glass things . . .

A table?

A goblet?

Or . . .

“Do you mean a mirror?” Sophie asked, digging Jolie’s compact out of her desk. “
This
mirror?”

Vertina frowned as she studied it. “I do remember Jolie using that mirror—and I never understood why. One side was so unflattering. But I don’t think that’s what she meant. I have suspected she meant a mirror. But the way she said it when she told me made me think it was a specific mirror in a specific place.”

“Where?” Sophie asked, trying again to pry off the compact’s mirrors, just to be safe.

They still wouldn’t budge.

“She never told me,” Vertina admitted sadly.

“And that’s all Jolie said? There was nothing else?”

“That was it.”

“Great,” Sophie mumbled, shoving the compact into her pocket and heading downstairs.

Every
wall in Havenfield was made of some sort of crystal or glass. It could take days to search each piece of it—especially since the mirror she was looking for had to be small enough for no one to notice.

“You don’t have to follow me,” she told Sandor as he trailed her down the hallway.

But of course he did, stationing himself outside Jolie’s room as Sophie slipped inside.

“Please let it be in here,” she whispered, snapping her fingers to turn on the lights.

The room looked far more chaotic than she’d remembered—clothes and shoes and books strewn all over the floor, mixed with a maze of half-packed trunks and boxes. She didn’t remember it being that messy the last time she’d been in there, but she also realized—with a serious dose of guilt—that she’d never finished packing up Jolie’s things.

She would have to get back to that. But right now she had a more important job to tackle. The clue had said the glass was not a window, and maybe Jolie picked that wording to tell her where to start.

She threw back the dusty curtains, revealing the floor-to-ceiling windows. Thin veins of gold divided the glass into square panes, each about the size of her head.

Hundreds of them.

It felt like thousands.

She worked systematically, starting at the bottom and moving her way up and over and checking each. Stupid. Pane. But by the time she reached the other side, she still hadn’t found a hidden mirror. And maybe that made sense.

The individual panes were all the same depth. There would be no way to hide anything behind them, unless the mirror stuck out—which would’ve been way too obvious.

So it had to be one of the walls.

But the walls were all crystal, not glass—weren’t they?

Sophie sank to the floor, leaning against the bed and rubbing her eyes to bring some moisture back to them. She was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked in over an hour, and she was so tempted to give up and go to bed, try again in the morning when her head was clearer and the light was better.

But she was
so
close.

A vibration in her pocket made her jump, and her stomach turned sour as she pulled out her Imparter.

“Swan song,” Keefe whispered, not quite looking at her.

She knew it was lame, but she had to tell him, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. In fact . . . it almost makes sense. I finally understand everything I’ve ever felt about my life. I mean, it still sucks. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.”

“No one can hear you, right?”

“No. They left me a note. Apparently my mom wanted to go to some fancy restaurant in Atlantis, so he took her and they’re still not back. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised they weren’t sitting at home worrying about me anymore.”

“I’m—”

“Please don’t say you’re sorry again. It makes me want to smash things, and that would be really hard to explain—and not because I’m mad at you,” he added. “It’s just . . . I don’t want
you
to be sorry because one of the people who tried to kill you just so happens to be my dad. Every time I think about it, I want to fling goblin throwing stars at all his favorite things. Which again, would be pretty hard to explain.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

“I won’t. I’m going to go drink a couple cups of slumberberry tea and hope it knocks me out until the plan is ready.”

“Uh, that’s not dangerous, right?”

Half a smile curled his lips. “Nope, it’s just tea. My mom makes my dad at least three cups a night. I guess now I know why he has trouble sleeping.”

Sophie bit her lip. “I’ll hail you as soon as I hear from the Black Swan.”

“Thanks. Oh, and . . . Sophie?”

“Yeah?” she asked, surprised he was using her first name.

“Please don’t hate me, okay?”

“Keefe, I will never hate you.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ In fact, I remember a pretty smart person telling me that our families don’t get to decide who we are. And that goes one step farther. Our parents don’t
make
us who we are either. Look at how much you’ve rebelled against your dad. Deep down, you’ve always known you didn’t want to be him. Now you finally know
why
.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes—either from tears or exhaustion, Sophie couldn’t tell which.

She hoped it was the latter and told him, “Get some sleep.”

He nodded and clicked away.

“I’ll go deliver the message,” Sandor said, making her drop the Imparter.

“Seriously—how do you sneak around like that on those giant feet?”

“Goblin secret. But the tide is too high for you to join me. Can you stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”

“The only thing I’m in danger of is dying of boredom.” She glanced at the endless stretches of crystal and glass, wondering if she was even looking in the right place.

Jolie could’ve hidden the mirror
anywhere
. Maybe even at school . . .

No—that wouldn’t make sense. Access to the elite towers was restricted to the elite and Sophie doubted Jolie meant for one of her schoolmates to find it. Why else would she leave the clue at her house? Plus, if she wanted to keep it safe, why hide it somewhere there’d be hundreds of prodigies who could accidentally stumble across it.

No, Jolie
must
have hidden it at Havenfield. And the safest place would be her room.

Sophie just had to search smarter.

She moved to the indent in the carpet where Vertina used to be and placed her feet on the line, facing the same way. Whatever mirror Jolie meant couldn’t have been within Vertina’s line of sight—otherwise Vertina would’ve known where to find it. Which meant Sophie could rule out . . .

Most of the places she’d already wasted time checking.

Awesome.

She swallowed her frustration and turned to face where Vertina couldn’t see, looking for somewhere that wouldn’t draw much attention. One of the corners seemed to have more shadow than light, and there was a strip of space next to the bookshelves, covered mostly by the lace curtains of the nearby window. She tiptoed to the corner—afraid that making a sound would scare the dim possibility away. And maybe it worked, because when she pulled back the dusty lace, she found a narrow row of square glass panes.

The square in the center was a mirror.

“Got you,” Sophie whispered, tracing her fingers along the edge.

The mirror felt slightly less flush with the wall than the other panes, and when she pressed the upper right corner, the mirror popped out, swinging on an invisible hinge. Her hands shook as she pushed the door aside, revealing a sliver of a compartment—barely deep enough to pass her fingertips—with a slim lavender journal tucked inside.

The cover felt cold as she traced her finger along the elegant runes drawn in the center, and it took Sophie’s mind a second to translate the word:

Reflections.

Jolie had written it using the Black Swan’s cipher. And yet, when Sophie turned to the first page she found row after row of carefully shaped runes that formed nothing more than gibberish. Nonsensical words mixed with lines and squiggles and dots and dashes. For page after page after page.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sophie grumbled, flipping the book upside down, like that would somehow fix it.

It didn’t.

Still . . . something felt familiar about the runes.

She closed her eyes, hoping a memory was about to trigger.

“What’s that?” Edaline asked, making Sophie stumble backward into the bookshelf.