“Please. I have to know.”
When she didn’t back down, he shook his head. “Fine, if you really want me to tell you, I will—but I completely disagree with him.” He ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes as he said, “Bronte thinks that you’re . . . malfunctioning.”
Malfunctioning.
“He thinks that the new abilities the Black Swan triggered aren’t working right—and that it’s affecting your other abilities. Why Fitz can transmit to you now and why you can’t block Silveny’s transmissions and why he was able to inflict on you today.”
“Because I’m . . . malfunctioning.” Sophie wasn’t sure if she should be angry or embarrassed or really really scared.
Fitz said she was damaged—but malfunctioning felt worse, somehow. More fundamental.
“He’s wrong, Sophie. Bronte’s been wrong about many things—and this is another clear example.”
“Of course he’s wrong,” Keefe agreed. “If anyone’s malfunctioning, it’s him—I heard him try to laugh one time and he sounded like a freaked-out banshee.”
“Exactly. It doesn’t mean anything,” Grady promised.
Sophie knew they wouldn’t stop trying to console her until she agreed, so she gave them her best there’s nothing to worry about smile and said, “I guess I need to prove him wrong,” as she headed for the door.
She tried to stay calm as they walked toward Silveny’s enclosure. But the word “malfunctioning” had taken root in her head, branching out through her brain, weaving together connections she’d never considered before.
She’d already known she was an anomaly. The way the Black Swan had tweaked her genes was something no one had ever seen or done before.
What if the Black Swan had miscalculated something?
That would explain why she had brown eyes—and an allergy.
“Hey, ease up with the walking panic attack, Foster,” Keefe whispered. “Remember, Bronte’s just trying to get in your head. If you let him, he wins.”
He was right—Bronte had been trying to rattle her from the moment he’d met her. But if Keefe knew all the things she knew . . .
She glanced at the sun, feeling the now all-too-familiar ache in her skull as the light seeped in. Was that another symptom?
Friend! Silveny transmitted when she spotted Sophie approaching. Friend! Friend! Friend!
Silveny’s eager transmissions only made her panic worse. Were they more proof that her abilities were slowly unraveling?
“Ah, Miss Foster, thank you for agreeing to this demonstration,” Councillor Emery said as she dipped an especially shaky curtsy. “We’re very excited to see what you can do.”
The twelve regal elves stood a safe distance from Silveny’s pasture, giving the jittery alicorn her space. Sophie couldn’t help trying to guess which ones were siding with Bronte. She hoped it was the Councillors who’d never spoken to her.
“What do you want her to do?” Grady asked, squeezing Sophie’s shoulder.
“How about a flying demonstration?” Emery suggested.
“One that doesn’t involve feces,” Bronte added.
“Especially glittery feces,” Kenric joked, flashing Sophie a wide smile.
“Whoa—what’s this about sparkly poop?” Keefe asked.
“What is the Sencen boy doing here?” Bronte snapped.
“I’m Foster’s personal bodyguard now. Gigantor wasn’t cutting it.”
“Keefe was helping Sophie get an early start preparing for midterms,” Grady jumped in. “She has some difficult sessions this year”—he glared at Bronte—“but back to the reason we’re here. Sophie, do you think you can control Silveny enough to fly her outside her pasture?”
The plea in his eyes made it pretty clear what her answer should be.
Things must be really desperate for him to want her to take such a risk.
“Just give me a minute to explain to her what we’re about to do.”
“Of course,” Councillor Emery agreed.
Sophie made her way to the purple bars of Silveny’s enclosure, stroking the horse’s iridescent snout. Fly?
Fly! Fly! Fly! Silveny repeated, whinnying and nuzzling Sophie’s arm.
It’s going to be different this time. We’re going to fly free. She could feel that Silveny didn’t understand the difference, so she sent her an image of Silveny streaking through a bright, cloudy sky. Fly free!
The winged horse’s enthusiasm quadrupled and she stamped her hooves. Fly free! Fly free! Fly free!
“I think she’s ready,” Sophie told them as she made her way to the gate, hoping she’d be able to explain to Silveny that they had to come back.
Stay, she transmitted as Grady undid the lock and let Sophie inside. She could see Silveny twitching like she wanted to take off running, but she stayed put, bowing her head to let Sophie climb on.
“Don’t fly too far,” Grady ordered as Silveny slowly trotted to the gate. “And remember, you’re the one in charge.”
Ready? Sophie asked Silveny.
Fly free!
Sophie barely had time to tighten her grip before Silveny spread her wings and launched them into the sky. The crisp ocean breeze made her shiver, and Sophie gasped when she glanced down and saw how high they’d already flown.
Easy, she transmitted. We have to stay close.
The giddy horse ignored her, swooping past the cliffs and taking them over the shimmering ocean. Sophie refused to think about how very far down the water was.
Silveny curved farther away from Havenfield.
Not too far.
FREE! Silveny responded.
I know. But we have to stay safe.
She tried transmitting images to help Silveny understand, but Silveny just kept saying Free! and flying even farther away.
Sophie glanced behind her and could see Grady—or the tiny speck she assumed was Grady—waving his arms like he was trying to call her back.
Left, she told Silveny, repeating the command over and over until the stubborn alicorn reluctantly obeyed, making a wide loop through the puffy white clouds and heading back toward the house. But she filled Sophie’s mind with scenes of forests and meadows and wide-open spaces.
Free, Silveny transmitted again. Come, friend!
Sophie hated to admit how tempting the invitation was. Maybe it was Silveny’s emotions surging through her veins, or the horrifying fear swimming around her mind, but part of her wanted to let the glittering horse pick a direction and keep flying until they were far away from anyone and everyone who knew what she was.
Havenfield grew closer, and as Sophie stared at the caped figures silhouetted by the sunlight, her insides twisted so tight she wasn’t sure if she wanted to groan from the pain or throw up.
Calm, Silveny transmitted, sending a rush of warmth. But Sophie couldn’t calm down.
She couldn’t face the Council—couldn’t face their questioning, condemning stares. Couldn’t face what they thought she was. Or the possibility that it was true.
She didn’t want to go back.
Not yet at least. She wasn’t ready to face that reality.
Free? Silveny transmitted.
Yes.
Sophie didn’t transmit the thought, but Silveny seemed to hear it anyway. Her glimmering body surged with a new rush of energy as she tucked her wings and dove.
FREE!
Down down down they went, flying faster faster faster as the ground rushed toward them.
Fly! Sophie transmitted, but she wasn’t sure the alicorn could hear her. Silveny’s mind hummed with a strange new energy, one that seemed to swell and spread through both of them as the seconds passed, until Sophie’s head was filled with so many tingles she thought she might burst.
Trust, Silveny told her as the energy exploded with a thunderous clap and a crack opened in space.
Sophie’s scream echoed in her ears as they rocketed into the oblivion beyond.
FORTY-FIVE
THE FORCE OF THE VOID was so strong Sophie felt lik
e her body was being pulled and stretched and twisted. It didn’t hurt. She honestly couldn’t feel anything except a tugging and twirling as she whipped through the cold emptiness.
Silveny filled her mind with a crisp image: a lush meadow surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Then white light flashed and thunder cracked and everything squished back together, leaving her in the middle of a valley, staring at the same mountains she’d seen in Silveny’s thoughts.
“Whoa,” she breathed as Silveny touched down on the grassy floor, right next to the misty river. If she hadn’t been able to feel tiny drips of the cold water splashing her skin, Sophie might’ve thought she was hallucinating.
She clung to Silveny’s neck with all the strength she could muster, afraid that if she let go, Silveny would fly away and leave her there—wherever there was. “What was that?” she screamed, hearing her voice echo off the valley walls. “Did we just . . .”
She didn’t even have a word for what just happened. One second they’d been at Havenfield, and then the sky tore open and now they were somewhere else—and it definitely hadn’t been a light leap.
Free! Silveny told her, leaning down to take a drink. Sophie tumbled forward, and only her death grip on the alicorn’s neck saved her from toppling headfirst into the rushing river. But she still drenched her legs as she landed on her feet in the shallows.
What did you do? she transmitted as she waded back to dry land. Her soggy shoes squished with every step.
A sound echoed through her head, and it took a second for her brain to translate the word.
“We teleported?”
Silveny whinnied.
Sophie didn’t even know that was possible—though she supposed it explained how Silveny had visited so many places. And why alicorns were so elusive. It was hard to catch something that could rip an opening in the sky and vanish into it.
A wave of panic hit her as she considered what that must’ve looked like to the Council—or what they must be thinking now that she’d disappeared.
You have to take me back!
Silveny munched on the long stalks of grass. Free.
Sophie looked around for some clue to tell her where they were, but all she could see was that they were in the middle of nowhere—and that it was breathtakingly beautiful. She could understand why Silveny didn’t want to go back to Havenfield and be caged again. Something about the pen must keep her trapped—maybe there wasn’t enough space for her to get up to speed to teleport. That would explain why she’d seen Silveny dipping and diving sometimes. Trying to get away.
But they had to go home.
Grady was probably having a heart attack.
How could she convince the stubborn horse to take her home? She couldn’t exactly teleport them back on her own.
Or maybe she didn’t need to. There was more than one way to leap around the world.
She grabbed her home crystal and held it up to the sunlight, imagining her consciousness wrapping around Silveny’s glimmering body. Before Silveny figured out what she was doing, she pressed her palm against the horse’s neck and stepped into the light, letting the rushing warmth whisk them both away.
TO SAY SOPHIE ARRIVED BACK at Havenfield to pandemonium would have been understating things. Greatly.
Bronte was screaming at Grady, Grady was screaming at Sandor, the Councillors were screaming at each other—the only one not freaking out was Keefe, who was also the first one to spot her. He gave her a thumbs-up and she tried to smile, but everything was spinning and blurring and her ears were ringing and her head was throbbing and her body felt too heavy for her weary legs.
Silveny whinnied and the screaming quadrupled as everyone noticed them and shouted something like “Wherehaveyoubeenareyoucrazywhathappened?”
But Sophie couldn’t answer. She didn’t remember falling but she did feel the pain as she hit the muddy ground.
“Somebody call Elwin,” Grady ordered, and she was surprised to realize he was cradling her in his arms. “I’m taking her up to her room.”
“I’m fine,” she promised—but she didn’t feel fine. And she knew what Grady was going to say even before he said it. She could tell from the worried look everyone was giving her. Especially Keefe.
“You’re not fine, Sophie. You’ve faded again.”
“LOOKS LIKE YOU GET A new accessory,” Elwin told her as he handed her the blue vial of the special limbium-free Fade Fuel strung to a cord. He squeezed the atomizer on the end and she inhaled the medicine before he tied it around her neck. “How you can fade with two nexuses is beyond me. But at least you got your color back quickly this time. I want you to inhale a dose of this every time you leap, just to be safe.”
“I’m sure the fading only happened because of the teleporting,” she said, trying to convince Elwin as much as herself.
“Maybe,” Elwin agreed. “Though I have to say, teleporting? Will you ever stop being full of surprises?”
“That was Silveny, not me.” She climbed out of her bed and checked her reflection in the mirror.
“Whoa, what happened to you?” Vertina asked, and Sophie jumped back to get out of range. Clearly her color wasn’t all the way back.
Grady opened the door a crack and peeked through. “You’re up.”
“Can’t keep that girl down,” Elwin said as Grady ran across the room and strangled Sophie with a hug.
“You can’t disappear on me like that,” he told her. “Never again.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
He cleared his throat and let her go, wiping his eyes on his cape. “Are you up to facing the Council? They obviously have some questions.”
She nodded, though she had no idea what she was going to say. “Did this make it worse?” she whispered.
“It definitely didn’t help. But once you talk to them, hopefully . . .”
He left the thought unfinished, and Sophie had no choice but to follow him down the stairs and back outside where twelve very serious-looking Councillors—and a smirking Keefe—were waiting for her.
“Are you all right, Miss Foster?” Councillor Emery asked, and the crease between his brows made Sophie wonder if he’d switched to the Sophie-must-be-malfunctioning camp.
“Yes,” she said, glad her voice sounded strong. “Teleporting just takes a lot out of you.”
The word unleashed an explosion of questions, most of which she didn’t know the answer to. She gave them what little information she could and they switched to arguing among themselves again.
Friend? Silveny transmitted, and Sophie tensed, realizing she’d forgotten all about the finicky alicorn. She spun around, relieved to see Silveny safely cantering around her enclosure.
“How did you . . .”
“Keefe calmed her down and lured her to her pen,” Grady answered. “Clearly she responds well to Empaths.”
“Or maybe Silveny just has good taste,” Keefe said, stepping close enough to lean in and whisper, “Just so you know, you’re pretty much my hero now. It takes serious talent to freak out the entire Council. I may need you to give me some pointers!”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Though I gotta say, you look much better with color, Foster. The faded look, it just”—his smile vanished—“well, don’t do it again, is all I’m saying.”
Sophie squeezed the vial hanging from her neck. “I won’t.”
“It’s quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Councillor Terik interrupted, making everyone turn to face him. “All these centuries we’ve had an alicorn in our custody and we never knew its secrets. But now, thanks to an uncannily talented thirteen-year-old girl, we’ve discovered the first animal with a special ability—a special ability none of us have ever developed. Our world will never be the same.”
Everyone murmured their agreement.
“What did teleporting feel like?” Kenric asked, before Sophie could figure out how to respond to that. “Did it hurt?”
“Not really. It was kind of like I was a rubber band
being stretched as thin as I could go before I snapped back into form once we got there—and if you’re going to ask, I don’t know where we went. Some valley in the middle of nowhere.”
They pummeled her with more questions until Grady finally stepped in and reminded them that she’d had a very exhausting day and they could continue this conversation later.
Sophie knew she should be relieved—but the glare Bronte gave her as he leaped away told her she had not satisfied his doubts in her abilities. And she couldn’t even blame him. She was starting to doubt them herself.
The rest of the Councillors slowly glittered away, and Keefe elbowed Sophie. “I guess that’s my cue to leave too.” He dipped an exaggerated bow and held his crystal up to the light, saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Foster,” as he leaped home.
Grady rubbed his temples. “So . . . Keefe Sencen?”
“What about him?”
“What about Dex?”
“What about Dex?”
Grady held out his hands. “Never mind. We should head back inside. Elwin said he wanted to check you again before he leaves.”
Someone cleared their throat behind them, making Sophie and Grady turn.
“Councillor Terik?” Grady sounded as surprised as Sophie felt. “I thought you’d left.”
“I had. But I realized I’d forgotten to say one thing to Sophie.”
When he didn’t continue, Grady said, “I guess I’ll wait in the house.”
Sophie watched him walk away, trying to guess what Councillor Terik could possibly want. She hoped not another descrying session.
“Can I see your Imparter?” he asked, when Grady had closed the door.
Sophie dug it out of her pocket and handed the silver square to him.
He flipped it over to the dull side and pressed his finger in the center of the square, holding it there until the Imparter flashed with a deep green light. “Permission granted,” he said, and the light turned blue. “There—now you’ll be able to reach me. Just say my name and if I’m within range, it’ll hail me.”
“Um . . . thank you.”
“I know that you used to rely on Alden when you needed advice, so I want you to know that you are welcome to come to me any time. Don’t let that the fact that I’m a Councillor make you feel like you shouldn’t bother me. I am always here for you, Sophie.”
Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 27