Nightfall

by Shannon Messenger

  Ro nodded and pointed ahead to another splatter. And another. A gruesome trail leading into the shadows.

  “It’s not just Biana’s,” Ro whispered as Sophie clung to a nearby railing, trying to clear her spinning head. “I’m picking up Vespera’s scent too, so Biana must have given as good as she got.”

  None of them found that comforting.

  “Does that mean Vespera’s still here?” Tam asked, keeping his voice as low as possible. “And what about Fintan?”

  “I’m not feeling either of them,” Grady murmured.

  Sophie stretched out her consciousness again. “Neither am I.”

  “But that could be a trick,” Dex reminded them.

  “I think I smell Fintan,” Ro said, pulling herself up to a higher catwalk and sucking in several deep breaths. “I can’t tell how fresh the trail is. But he went that way.”

  The narrow ledge she pointed to went the opposite way from Biana’s red-stained trail—disappearing around a sharp curve.

  “You’re sure?” Grady asked, lowering himself onto the rickety walkway.

  Sophie grabbed his sleeve. “What are you doing?”

  He leaned closer. “If Fintan’s still here, he’s either knocked out, or planning something. Either way, someone needs to check.”

  “You can’t go alone,” she whispered.

  He brushed a strand of her hair off her forehead. “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Stay behind Ro, do everything she tells you, and get out of here as soon as you find Biana.”

  “You can’t handle Fintan by yourself,” Sophie argued. “Look how much he wiped you out last time.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Marella offered. “Seeing me spark a few flames might distract Fintan enough for Grady to get control of his mind.”

  “I’m not putting you in that kind of danger,” Grady told her.

  “Uh, it’s not like the other path is any safer.” Marella pointed to the red splatters around their feet.

  “The girl has a point,” Ro admitted as Marella hopped down onto the same platform as Grady.

  Sophie hated this new plan with every fiber of her being. But . . . if they had a chance to find Fintan, they had to take it.

  “Be careful,” she begged both of them.

  “Right back at you,” Grady told her, kissing her cheek before leading Marella down the creaky path.

  Sophie’s group went the opposite way—and with every step she expected to hear Grady’s scream or Fintan’s taunts or the crackle of flames. But the only sounds were from their feet scraping along the splintered floor as they struggled to follow Biana’s bloody trail through a maze of mirrors and ledges and sharp curves they couldn’t see until they’d nearly fallen off an invisible edge.

  And then—in the middle of a wide platform, with a steep drop on one side and mirrors lining the other—the trail just . . . ended.

  “You don’t think she . . . ?” Tam didn’t finish the question. But the way he peered over the edge said enough.

  “Easy there,” Ro said as Fitz sank to his knees. “I can still smell her.”

  “I can feel her too,” Sophie added. “Her thoughts are blurred—but they’re close.”

  “Then where is she?” Fitz snapped.

  “There must be another trick,” Linh assured him, reaching for his hand.

  “The illusions seem to be about the angle of the light,” Dex said slowly. “So I wonder . . .”

  He studied one of the mirrors hanging from a gossamer thread and tilted the glass enough to send the light bouncing toward a different mirror. “Can someone tilt that one down a little?”

  Keefe did as he asked, and the light refracted toward the edge of a new mirror, then bounced to another and another and . . .

  One of the mirrors seemed to vanish, revealing a cramped cubby of space.

  And tucked into the shadows was Biana. Passed out in a pool of blood.

  Eighty-one

  GLASS CRUNCHED UNDER Fitz’s knees as he knelt next to Biana. “Biana? Can you hear me?”

  He shook her shoulders and her head lolled to the side, giving them a better glimpse of the spiderweb of red gashes covering the left half of her face. Thick shards of glass jutted out of her arm, hip, and leg along that same side of her body, as if she’d been slammed into a mirror and shredded as it shattered.

  “Biana?” Fitz tried again, choking on the word. “Do you think they drugged her?”

  Sophie couldn’t tell. But judging by how much red was splashed around them . . . “I think she might’ve passed out from the blood loss.”

  “She’s breathing,” Keefe added, placing a hand on Fitz’s shoulder. “As long as she’s hanging on, Elwin can fix the rest.”

  “How are we supposed to get her to him?” Fitz asked.

  The guilt nearly knocked Sophie over when she realized she’d given Sandor and Grizel their only quick path to Foxfire. Now they’d be stuck dragging Biana through the whole stupid city to get to the stupid bubble wand statue to use the stupid geyser to finally leap her home.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her knotted emotions to hold them together. “I shouldn’t have let Sandor and Grizel leave until we found her.”

  “Yes, you should have,” Keefe told her. “Seriously, Foster. You had to get your parents out of here—we all know that. Don’t we?” He nudged Fitz until Fitz nodded. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Like what?” Fitz wanted to know.

  “What about Livvy?” Linh suggested—and the name felt like a lifeline, dragging Sophie out of her panic.

  “You’re right!” she breathed. “We just need to get Biana to Quinlin’s apartment.”

  “Do we even know how to get there?” Fitz asked.

  Sophie hated having to tell him, “No.” Especially when Fitz’s features tightened into grim lines.

  “But Alden knows,” Keefe reminded them. “And he’s probably still in Atlantis. Or if not, we’ll hail him and ask for directions.”

  Fitz sucked in a shaky breath. “We’ll have to make it work.”

  “We should bind her wounds before we move her,” Ro said, already slashing thick strips off the bottom of Biana’s Neverseen cloak to use for bandages.

  “Do we really have time for that?” Tam asked, squinting at the shadows. “Vespera could still be here.”

  “Her scent is fading,” Ro told him. “I think she’s gone. Besides, we need to stop this girl from losing any more blood.”

  “I have these,” Sophie added, pulling a handful of Panakes blossoms out of her pocket. The flowers were shriveled and crushed, but she still placed a few petals on Biana’s tongue and pressed the rest into the worst of her wounds as Ro made quick work of wrapping Biana’s injuries.

  “I guess that’ll have to be good enough,” Ro said, scooping Biana up, careful not to press on any of the glass sticking out of her as they slowly backtracked toward the entrance. “Can someone use their fancy powers to get a message to Grady? He should know we’re heading out so he doesn’t count on us for help.”

  Sophie did as Ro asked, but couldn’t help admitting, “I hate leaving him and Marella here alone.”

  “I don’t like it either,” Ro told her. “But—”

  Biana’s moan cut her off.

  Fitz grabbed his sister’s hand, tears streaming down his cheeks as Biana’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Fitz?” Biana’s voice was thin as paper—and her lips twisted as she scraped her tongue against her teeth.

  “You’re feeling the Panakes petals,” Sophie explained. “Try to swallow them—I think they’re helping.”

  Biana nodded—then winced from the motion—and winced even harder as she choked down the blossoms. But she still managed to rasp a soft “thank you.”

  Sophie’s eyes burned. “We should be thanking you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten Fintan’s thinking cap off.”

  Biana tried to smile. But the pain seemed to steal her breath.
“So . . . I guess I’m the one doing the almost-dying thing this time.”

  “Good thing it was almost,” Keefe told her.

  Biana’s eyes shifted to Fitz. “How bad am I? I mean . . . I can feel a lot of it, but . . .”

  When he didn’t answer, she turned to Sophie, then Dex, then Tam, then Linh, and finally let out a soft breath. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Keefe promised, with way more confidence than Sophie could manage. “Livvy will take care of it—and at least you won’t have to tell people you got stabbed by a giant bug, like some people.”

  He hooked a thumb toward Fitz.

  Fitz didn’t smile.

  “Why didn’t you tell us what you were doing?” he snapped at his sister.

  “Because there wasn’t time. I barely made it out the door. And none of you could’ve gone with me anyway.”

  “I could have,” Tam argued.

  “They would’ve noticed if two of us went missing.” She glared at Fitz. “Stop looking at me like that—we all take risks.”

  “You took on two of the leaders of the Neverseen by yourself !” he growled back.

  “Yeah, well, I’m fine.” She reached for his other hand, turning green when she saw the shards sticking out of her arm. She looked away. “Where are Grady and Marella? Did they go after Vespera?”

  “They went after Fintan,” Sophie told her. “Ro could smell him somewhere in the halls.”

  “So no one went after Vespera?” Biana asked.

  Ro shook her head. “Pretty sure she’s long gone, judging by her scent.”

  Biana struggled to sit taller in Ro’s arms. “But I know where she went! I heard her hail Ruy after she lost track of me in the mirrors. She told him she’d be waiting for him in the promenade—and she seemed frustrated when he said it was going to take him a little while to get there.”

  “The promenade?” Dex asked. “The one by the main canal?”

  “That’s what I’m assuming,” Biana said. “It sounded like she was going to walk there.”

  “But why?” Tam wondered. “That’s one of the busiest spots in Atlantis.”

  “Maybe that’s why,” Linh suggested. “Maybe she’s trying to hide in the crowd.”

  “Why wouldn’t she leave the city?” Sophie asked.

  “She might not be able to,” Dex reminded her. “The geyser is triggered by registry pendants. And maybe she doesn’t have any light from the unmapped stars to use instead.”

  Ro groaned. “I know those looks—and you can all forget it. We’re getting this girl medical help, not going to some sparkly promenade to hunt down Lady Creeperton!”

  “That’s not a seven-person job,” Biana argued.

  “It is as long as I’m the one carrying you,” Ro told her. “No one’s going after Vespera without me.”

  “Then have someone else carry me,” Biana insisted. “Or leave me here.”

  Fitz snorted. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

  “Why not? I’m fine!”

  “Fine?” he repeated. “Half your face is shredded!”

  Biana winced.

  “I know,” she whispered. “All I’m saying is . . . let’s make it worth it, okay? Don’t waste everything I did by giving up now—not when we have a real chance to stop her.”

  “I could carry you to Livvy,” Dex offered in the silence that followed. “That way Ro could go with everyone else. I doubt they’re going to need a Technopath.”

  “It’s a good plan,” Keefe jumped in. “But you should stay with them too, Fitz. You guys will move faster if you carry Biana together—and you’ll have twice the backup if you run into any problems. Maybe Bangs Boy should stay with you too.”

  “You’re going to need my shadows to slip through the city unnoticed,” Tam argued. “Plus, Ruy’s going to be there, so there could be a force field. And I’m not leaving Linh alone in Atlantis—and don’t roll your eyes,” he told his sister. “I know—you have amazing control now. But I’m your brother. It’s my job to have your back, even if you think you don’t need it.”

  “I love how you’re all talking about this like it’s a done deal,” Ro said. “I swore to Sandor that I’d protect all of you.”

  “Eh, as long as you stay with Foster you won’t have to face the wrath of Gigantor,” Keefe argued. “And if there’s a chance we can grab Vespera, we have to try.”

  Ro sighed, shifting to study Biana. “Are you really okay with this?”

  “I’ll be in good hands,” Biana said, offering a weak smile at Dex and her brother.

  “Then I’m going to leave it up to the moonlark,” Ro decided, turning to Sophie. “That way you get to take the heat if things turn ugly—and keep in mind that they probably will.”

  Sophie tugged hard on her eyelashes.

  Dividing their group again probably wasn’t a smart idea—and taking on Vespera in a public place definitely wasn’t.

  But she kept thinking about what Vespera had said about the innocent people she’d make suffer to punish Sophie for saving her friends and family.

  “Let’s go get her.”

  Eighty-two

  I DON’T SEE her,” Sophie mumbled, knowing she’d said the words twice already, but needing something to fill the agonizing silence.

  Tam had shielded them with shadows their entire trek to the promenade, and shrouded their hiding place under the arch of one of the gleaming silver skyscrapers so they could study the crowd bustling along the canal without anyone noticing.

  “Do you think she’s already gone?” Linh whispered, voicing the question Sophie hadn’t wanted to touch. “It did take us a while to stop the gorgodon and find Biana and head here.”

  “Or she’s hiding,” Tam countered. “She’s an escaped prisoner. She can’t just wander the city. And if she could build an entire underground facility, it seems like she could easily have a few spots where no one can see her unless she wants them to. Especially since we know she’s good with optical illusions.”

  “And I’m guessing you can’t feel her thoughts?” Keefe asked Sophie.

  She shook her head. “But that could just mean she still has her headdress on.”

  “So then, what’s our plan?” Ro asked. “Stand here until our feet go numb and hope she comes out of hiding? Booooooooooooooring. And how are you going to capture her, by the way? I’m guessing you don’t want a massive tackle-brawl in the street. Want me to pelt her with daggers? That could be fun!”

  “And dangerous,” Sophie reminded her. “You could accidentally hit the wrong person. Plus, we need to bring her in alive.”

  “Oh, I can keep her alive,” Ro promised. “Though, are you sure that’s a good idea? She already escaped once.”

  “After thousands of years,” Tam argued.

  “Still seems like a problem Future You isn’t going to want to deal with,” Ro noted. “But I get it—you want a chance to poke around her head without that ugly hat blocking you. Fair enough. You need to figure out how you’re going to restrain her, though. Because she will put up a fight. And this place is super crowded—and she totally seems like the type who’d grab a couple of hostages to force you to back off.”

  “Okay, got any ideas?” Keefe asked.

  “Of course. I go down there, wave my sword around to herd everyone somewhere I can defend them—like maybe I get them all to the other side of the canal. While I’m doing that, I can lure her out by shouting about how creepy she is, and how she has a secret lair underneath the city, and how she’s going to drag you into war with humans—”

  “You think that’s her plan?” Sophie interrupted.

  “Seems pretty obvious after that long, boring speech about ruthlessness,” Ro said. “Sounds like she’s been studying humans to figure out how to make you guys info elf-y killing machines, and she’s probably teamed up with the traitors who fled Ravagog, to learn some proper battle tactics. I bet she’ll use the soporidine to drug your enemies, so all
you have to do is slaughter them while they sleep—which actually isn’t a horrible strategy. It’s brutal—and kinda cheating. But she doesn’t seem like she’d be too broken up about that.”

  Dozens of new worries squeezed Sophie’s heart from all sides. “If you’re right, we need to get her back in custody—now.”

  “Does that mean we’re going with my plan?” Ro asked.

  “Uh, if you go down there covered in Biana’s blood, waving a sword, everyone will run from the scary ogre,” Tam told her. “And not in the direction you want them to run. I also didn’t actually hear any explanation for how you’re going to restrain her.”

  Ro glanced down at her breastplate, which was smeared with red. “Fine—amended plan. We send in the moonlark. Let her bat those big brown eyes and give everyone a nice, pretty speech about your world’s tainted history, full of enough insults that Vespera won’t be able to resist showing herself—and then I jump in and shove this in her mouth.”

  She opened a tiny compartment at the edge of her breastplate and pulled out something that looked like a slimy ball of tapioca and smelled like a rusted-out septic tank.

  “Ugh, what is that?” Keefe asked, plugging his nose.

  “A handy colony of a bacteria we grow to make you elves violently ill. Aren’t you glad none of you have made me angry enough to use it?”

  Sophie’s mouth went dry. “Do all ogres carry that?”

  “Oh, don’t look so freaked. You already know I’m carrying dozens of blades. At least this won’t kill you.”

  “I guess,” Tam mumbled.

  “Any chance I can get a dose of that for my dad?” Keefe asked.

  “Not until I’m not stuck living with him. Even I can’t take the smell of what comes out of you when you take this stuff.”

  “Uh, guys?” Linh whispered. “Look.”

  She pointed to the eastern end of the promenade, where a figure in a long black cloak with the hood raised was descending the steps from one of the bridges arching over the canal.

  “Good old Ruy,” Keefe grumbled, white showing on his knuckles. “Looks like he’s heading for that curve in the embankment.”

  Sophie nodded.

  It was the spot she’d focused on the most when she’d listened for Vespera’s thoughts, thinking the gleaming silver lanterns lining the railing might help shape an illusion.