Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (47 page)

“I think so,” she mumbled.

“Good, because that’s pretty much the only thing we could translate,” Biana admitted.

“And we aren’t fans of that ‘cave of horrors’ line,” Fitz added.

“Yeah, please tell me that’s a joke or something, Foster. ’Cause I already did a cave of horrors thing with you a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t awesome.”

“I’m sure they mean a different cave. But . . . I’ve never heard of the Head of the Sky or green boots or . . .”

Her voice trailed off as a hazy memory filled her mind—a lecture from one of her old high school science teachers, back when she was living with humans.

“Actually,” she said, rereading the note again, “I think they mean Mount Everest. The Head of the Sky is another name humans use for it sometimes—and the Sanctuary’s built into the Himalayas, right? So if Silveny’s the ruse, it would make sense that the Black Swan would choose there. The northeast ridge has a cave where a climber in green boots froze to death. They call it Green Boots Cave because the body’s still there, preserved in the ice.”

“Ewwwww—why haven’t the humans taken the body away?” Biana asked.

“Because it’s way up in the dead zone of the mountain, where the conditions are too treacherous to move it. I remember my teacher telling me there’s, like, hundreds of bodies scattered all over Mount Everest.”

“That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Fitz said quietly. “Why would the Black Swan pick there?”

“Maybe they wanted to creep the Neverseen out,” Keefe suggested. “And if so, I’m pretty sure it’ll be mission accomplished!”

“But how are you supposed to get there?” Sophie asked. “You can’t teleport”—though she realized with a pang that
she
couldn’t teleport any more either—“and you can’t walk from the entrance to the Sanctuary in less than three days. Even if you could, you’d need a team of Sherpas, and oxygen tanks, and years of training. Climbing Everest is one of the most dangerous things humans do.”

“Then why do they do it?” Biana asked.

Sophie had asked her teacher the same thing. And he’d given her the same answer she gave them. “To see if they can.”

Biana crinkled her nose. “Humans are weird.”

“Maybe,” Fitz agreed, “but you gotta admire the bravery it takes to look at a massive mountain, knowing how deadly it is, and think,
You know what? I’m going to climb anyway!
”

“Sounds a bit like our Foster, doesn’t it?” Keefe asked. “Maybe that’s why she’s set a new record for near-death experiences.”

“Not anymore,” Sophie mumbled.

Now she was just the message translator, sitting in her cushy house while her friends risked their lives for her. “You guys shouldn’t do this. It’s crazy.”

“But it’s smart, too,” Fitz argued. “Think about it. If it’s that dangerous for us—and we have time to prepare—how much worse will it be for the Neverseen when they show up and find themselves at the top of a deadly mountain. I bet that’s another reason the Black Swan picked it.”

“And my note came with this,” Biana added, holding out a tiny black swan charm.

Sophie looked away, wishing she didn’t feel so replaced.

But that used to be
her
charm.

“That still won’t get you there,” she said after a second. “Not without some sort of special light or something.”

“Yeah, but they’ll probably give it to us that day, just like they did last time,” Keefe reminded her.

“Better hope they give you oxygen, too. You won’t survive up there without it. And none of your clothes will be warm enough. And even then, you’ll still have to deal with the Neverseen—and trap or no, they
will
fight back . . .”

Her voice trailed off when she realized she was technically talking about Keefe’s dad.

Keefe patted his sleeve full of weapons again, his face as white as bone. “I have to stop him from hurting anyone again. Fitz and Biana don’t have to, but—”

“We’re going with you,” Biana insisted.

“Yeah, you’re not doing this alone,” Fitz agreed.

Sophie sighed. “Did the Black Swan have you tell your dad that they’re going instead of me?”

“I told him Fitz is coming to handle your telepathic stuff with Silveny. But he doesn’t know Biana will be there—and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

“I’m the secret weapon,” Biana said, vanishing again to prove it.

Sophie stared out the windows, watching the sun creep toward the horizon. “It’s really hard to sit back and let you guys risk your lives for this.”

“Tell me about it,” Grady called from the top of the stairs, making everyone jump. “Did you really think I wasn’t listening up here?”

“I did,” Keefe admitted as Grady came down to join them. “Please—you can’t tell anyone about my dad. If he finds out—”

“I know,” Grady interrupted, holding out a hand to calm him. “But before I agree, I have to ask—are you
sure
he’s with the Neverseen?”

“Yeah,” Keefe mumbled, squeezing his Sencen crest pin.

When he didn’t elaborate, Sophie explained about the aromark they’d found on Keefe’s hands and how the Neverseen kept finding them. Grady’s expression turned murderous.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Keefe reminded him. “We need him to lead us to the others first.”

“Right,” Grady said, running his hands down his face. “You can’t crush the first ant you find. You have to wait for the queen. So I will keep your secret—for now. But I
will
have goblins on standby near Candleshade in case things don’t go as planned. And you two need to tell your father,” he told Fitz and Biana. “I’m sure he will see the logic behind the Black Swan’s strategy—especially with the Council’s current uselessness. But he should know what his children are doing, and have the chance to make adjustments to keep you safe. Okay?”

They glanced at each other before they both nodded.

“Good. I’m going to make a few adjustments of my own,” Grady added. “First—Sandor’s coming with you.”

Sandor frowned. “But Miss Foster—”

“Will be perfectly safe right here,” Grady interrupted. “You should be with everyone on that mountain. And I should mention that this is the only way I’ll agree to this plan. Otherwise I
will
find a way to stop you.”

Keefe shrugged. “It’s fine with me, so long as Gigantor’s cool with it.”

Sandor surprised him by bowing his head. “It would be my honor, Mr. Sencen.”

“Ugh—can we stick with ‘Keefe’? I’m not exactly a fan of that name right now.”

Sandor nodded.

“Then I guess that settles that,” Keefe said, holding out his hands to Fitz and Biana. “I’ll need your scrolls. It says to destroy them.”

“I can do that,” Grady said, removing a silver flint from his pocket.

He lit the scrolls with a purple flame, letting the fire crawl over the paper like glowing moss, until there was nothing but a pile of ash.

“By the way, Keefe,” Grady said, dusting the ash off his fingers. “I’m sorry your father is caught up in this. I’m hoping there’s been a mistake. But if not, I want you to know that you can come to me with anything. Same goes for all of you,” he told Fitz and Biana. “We have enough fighting against us at the moment. If we’re going to survive the coming days, we’re going to have to trust one another and work together. Can we do that?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good. Then let’s all have another piece of mallowmelt. I have a feeling this will be our last peaceful meal for a few days.”

SIXTY-ONE

S
OPHIE RESISTED THE SLUMBERBERRY TEA
before bed, and without it—and without a way to reach Silveny—she found sleep impossible. She finally crawled out of bed and spent the rest of the night curled up on the floor near her window, staring at the stars.

They looked different, now that she’d seen how deadly their fire could be.

She wondered if the Council felt the same. Did they stay awake all night, regretting holding Fintan’s healing in a room with a glass ceiling?

They should.

So why had they chosen that tower?

Did they fear some sort of rescue by the dwarves who’d gone missing if they kept him underground?

Or was there a darker, more sinister reason?

Doubt was such a curious thing. Like lenses over her eyes, it blurred the lines between shadow and light, making everything murky and gray. Anything could mean anything. Or it could simply mean nothing at all.

She knew only that the Council was capable of cold, unkind things, and now she was powerless to do anything about it.

Or was she?

She wasn’t ready to face Foxfire yet, and when she checked Grady’s office she found a runic dictionary thicker than her head. Her arms ached as she pulled it down and carried the heavy volume to her room, but it was worth the strain. Whatever code Jolie used in her journal had to have a pattern or a key. If she could figure out how it worked, she would be able to translate the pages.

Her circlet slowed her progress. Every few lines her concentration started to stray—and she was fairly certain her photographic memory wasn’t working with the precision she was used to. But it felt good to do something productive. Even if it didn’t seem to be helping.

Whenever she compared Jolie’s markings against the runic alphabets in the dictionary, she couldn’t find a match. In fact, the more she studied them, the more the writing looked unnatural—like Jolie had tried to copy something she’d been looking at, and sometimes her hand had failed her. Marks were scribbled on top of themselves, and many of the lines were bunched so close together that Sophie couldn’t tell which rune they were connected to.

And yet, the whole mess still felt familiar.

Her eyes were starting to blur when Sandor announced that she had a visitor, and Dex shuffled nervously into her room.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d see me,” he mumbled.

“I thought you were Fitz.”

She knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Dex didn’t rise to her bait. He just stared at the carpet, looking so sad and lost she had to tell him, “Sorry.”

When he looked up there were tears in his eyes. “I’ll take it off right now, Sophie. I don’t care if they exile me.”

“Yes you do. And you know it won’t be just you. I can’t let that happen.”

“Then what should I do? Want me to wear one too? I will. I already started building it.”

He reached into his Foxfire satchel and pulled out a dull metal circlet with a spikey pattern instead of swirls.

Sophie grabbed it from him and ran over to Sandor, who crushed it into a ball of mangled metal with his giant goblin hands.

“I know what you can do,” Sophie said as she took the ruined circlet and handed it back to Dex. “You can never build another one—and stop making weapons for the Council!”

“I already did. I told them I wouldn’t build them another thing.”

“What did they say?”

He stared at the crushed ball, tracing his fingers over the individual bits of metal, like they were itching to repair it. “That they need my help to track down the Black Swan. And that even though things have calmed down with King Dimitar, that we still should be prepared from now on. They told me I could have some time to reconsider. But I won’t. I don’t trust them anymore. I never
really
did. I just . . .” He sighed, shoving the ball of scrap into his satchel. “I just liked that I mattered, you know? All my life I’ve been treated like a waste of a birth fund. And then suddenly I had Councillors visiting my house to talk to
me
, telling me how amazingly talented I was. And I wanted to impress them. I know that’s no excuse. But I was just trying to make the Dizznee name something people respected. So the triplets wouldn’t have to go though what I went through.”

Sophie sighed. “I know, Dex. I do understand. And I don’t
want
to be mad at you. But I am. And I probably will be for a while. Can you give me some time?”

He nodded sadly.

“But can I have one favor?” he asked. “No, favor isn’t the right word. I know I don’t deserve a
favor
.” He stepped closer, pointing to her bare finger. “I totally get why you took your panic switch off—and I know the last thing you want to do is call for me. But . . . what if the rebels come after you again? You can’t inflict or call anyone telepathically or teleport away, and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened.”

“She has me,” Sandor reminded him.

“I know. But
please
, Sophie. Let me do
something
to keep you safe.”

His eyes glistened with tears, and Sophie felt her eyes burn too.

Dex was the boy who’d tackled the kidnappers so she could try to get away. He’d suffered in silence as they burned him over and over because he didn’t want them to do it to her. He was her first friend—her best friend—and he just wanted to keep her safe.

So even though she was still angry with him, she dug out his ring and slipped it on her finger—and she stuffed her iPod back into her pocket, too.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, turning away and wiping his eyes. “And remember, if you need
anything
, all you have to do is press the center stone and it will call for me.”

Sophie nodded.

She had no intention of ever using the button. But it was nice to have Dex back on her side.

He left her then, and she went back to the mind-numbing task of studying runes. She’d only made it through a few more pages when Edaline peeked her head through the doorway, letting her know she had another visitor waiting for her in the living room.

She expected to find Fitz, Keefe, or Biana with news of the Black Swan. Instead, she found Magnate Leto standing under the crystal chandelier. He looked strange in his orange cape and tunic. Less intimidating than the silver clothes he used to wear as Beacon. Or maybe she just trusted him now.

“I can’t stay long, I’m afraid,” he told her as she offered him a seat on the couch. “I have a number of things still to arrange. But I wanted to stop by when I saw you were absent again today—and not to pressure you. I understand you might need further time to adjust. However, your sessions are waiting for you whenever you’re ready to return.
All
of them.”