Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities)

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Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 32

by Messenger, Shannon


  “Can you fix it?” she whispered.

  Elwin ran his hands through his hair, mussing it more than usual. “I don’t know.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  SO . . . I’VE GOT GOOD NEWS and bad news,” Keefe said as Silveny nuzzled his shoulder through the bars. Keefe hadn’t come over the day before, and the high-maintenance alicorn had clearly missed him. “Which do you want first?”

  Sophie rubbed her temples. “Might as well start with the bad and get it over with.”

  She doubted it could be worse than what she was already dealing with. Elwin had spent hours making her drink different elixirs and then flashing light in her eyes to see if they helped. When she’d felt like the headaches were going to break her brain, he’d finally had to admit defeat. And even though he’d promised he would figure it out, she wasn’t holding her breath.

  The only relief was that he’d agreed to let her wait to tell Grady and Edaline until he had more information. No reason to tell anyone. Yet.

  “Well?” she prompted, when Keefe still hadn’t said anything.

  “I . . . sorta had to tell my dad what we’re doing—”

  “What?”

  “—but before you freak out, don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything important.”

  “Why did you have to tell him anything? I thought you were the king of lying to adults.”

  “I am. But there’s only so much you can hide when you’re dealing with an Empath—trust me, I would know—so I had to give him enough truth to hide the lies. Apparently he heard us talking while we were in line to see the Vackers, and he cornered me about it, wanting to know what we were up to.”

  Sophie was too tired and frustrated to do anything other than sigh.

  “Sheesh, will you relax? All I told him is that I was helping you with Silveny because you were having a hard time and needed an Empath’s skills. Then I loaded it up with all kinds of stuff about how much Glitter Butt loves me, and how much you love having me around, and all that truth sold him.”

  “Truth,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “So if it’s not a big deal, why are you telling me?”

  “Well, you’re cute when you’re panicking for one thing—but also, he was super excited about this. I mean, I’m sure it’s because Silveny is such a big deal and he’s imagining me getting special mention from the Council once Silveny is ready to be moved or something. But later that night he gave me this.”

  He pointed to the pin clasping his cape around his shoulders—a circle with two hands holding a candle with an emerald flame. She’d seen the crest before on his Foxfire uniform.

  “Wow,” she said, hoping he couldn’t feel her surprise.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Keefe laughed. “Clearly you have no idea how to lie to an Empath. What?”

  Sophie bit her lip. “It’s nothing. I guess I just didn’t realize you didn’t have a Sencen crest pin.”

  “Uh, you’ve met my father—you’ve seen what he’s like. He’s always told me I have to earn my place in the family. And I guess now I have.”

  Sophie smiled. She’d been wondering why he was wearing a cape instead of his usual tunic and pants, and she couldn’t blame him. She knew how much it had meant when Grady had given her the Ruewen crest—and she hadn’t had to spend a lifetime earning it. “So was that the good news?”

  “Part of it. But the real good news is he told me I can spend as much time here as I want—so we can see even more of each other!”

  “Oh. Great.”

  “Wow, try not to be too enthusiastic there, Foster.” He rumpled Silveny’s mane. “At least you’re excited, aren’t you, Glitter Butt?”

  Keefe!

  “It’s just . . . I don’t even know where we’re supposed to go from here. The only leads we have are a line in an old dwarven song about swans and a tiny piece of an erased memory that the Black Swan has specifically warned me not to investigate.”

  “Whoa—back the T. rex up. The Black Swan contacted you again and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Sorry. I guess I forgot.” She explained about the warning note and the piece of her old journal attached to it.

  “Okay, first—I definitely want to know their trick for breaking into lockers. And second, uh, that’s not a warning. That’s a dare. Now we know they still have the pages. So we just have to figure out a way to steal them back.”

  “It’s not that easy, Keefe.”

  “Sure it is. We just have to think one step ahead of them.”

  “More like five steps. Or ten. Think about it, Keefe—how do they even know I have the journal? They have to be watching me. They’re probably watching us right now, making notes on any plan we come up with so they can thwart it.”

  Keefe glanced over his shoulder. “You really think they’re watching us?”

  “How else would they know?”

  “I guess. But aren’t there a ton of goblins trolling these grounds? I swear I’ve seen two or three skulking in the shadows.”

  “Goblin senses can be fooled.”

  “They can?” Keefe asked as Sandor shot her a death look.

  “Yeah, but it’s a secret.” Not a very well-kept one, in Sophie’s opinion. “Anyway, my point is, how are we supposed to sneak up on someone who knows everything we’re thinking about doing?”

  “Please—you’re talking to a master mischief maker. I’ll find a way.”

  “You do that. In the meantime, I need to practice flying with Silveny.”

  She was only allowed to fly inside the pasture now, and the Council was redesigning their plans for Silveny’s appearance at the festival to make sure there were no more teleporting debacles. Silveny was not happy about it, and gave the most pathetic sad eyes ever as Sophie made her way to the gate and reached for the cube-shaped padlock to press her thumb against the sensor.

  The sides of the cube parted to release the lock and a tiny velvet sack fluttered to her feet.

  A black velvet sack, marked with a now all-too-familiar symbol.

  “What’s that?” Keefe asked as she bent to pick it up.

  “Proof that we’re not alone.”

  Sandor drew his weapon and scanned their surroundings as Sophie untied the beaded threads knotting the bag and dumped two items into her palm. A tiny silver alicorn pin with orange topaz eyes and outstretched wings, and a note. The Black Swan had given her pins as clues before, and this one, like the others, looked like it was a Prattles’ pin. When she flipped it over, she found a tiny digital readout that said: #1 OF 2.

  So not only had they snuck into Havenfield, tricked the goblin’s senses to avoid getting caught, opened the lock that needed her DNA to open, but they’d also managed to get their hands on the rarest Prattles’ pin of them all. All so they could lead her around like the perfect little puppet.

  Well, they could forget it. She was done being controlled. Especially when she saw the message on the note:

  Face your fears.

  She started to crumple the paper, but Keefe grabbed her wrist and pried it out of her fingers before she could destroy it.

  He grinned as he read the note. “Bring it on.”

  “No way, Keefe. I’m not playing their game anymore.”

  She was tired of being asked to blindly trust a group who had been manipulating her life for years. A group who probably messed something up in her DNA and made her defective. A group who may have murdered Jolie.

  “You hear that?” she shouted, looking around for some clue as to where they were hiding. She had no doubt that they were there. “I’m done with the secrets! You want to order me around, you can come out and do it face-to-face.”

  She held her breath, waiting to see if they would respond.

  All she heard was the crunching sound of Silveny gobbling down swizzlespice, and the chirping of a few crickets.

  Her hands clenched into fists and her body started to shake as the anger swelled inside her, dimming her vision.

  “Whoa—e
asy now,” Keefe said, jerking her shoulder.

  Calm! Silveny added, sending a rush of warmth that melted away the fog.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, staring at her feet. She really needed to get better control of her anger.

  “Keep an eye on her,” Sandor told Keefe, “I’m going to order the others to do a full sweep of the property.”

  He ran for the trees, and Sophie wanted to tell him not to bother—the Black Swan were way too smart to ever let themselves get caught. And hey, maybe this was good news. It probably meant their mysterious “visitor” had been from the Black Swan and not the kidnappers.

  “Hey, Captain Mood Swing,” Keefe said, gently grabbing her arm. He sighed when she didn’t smile. “Look, I get what you’re feeling. Shoot, I can feel what you’re feeling—and I don’t blame you. At all. But remember what we’re trying to do here. We want to fix Alden, right?”

  The last of her anger cooled as she nodded. Shame swelled in its place.

  “Hey—no feeling guilty either. You have a right to be seriously ticked. And as soon as this is done, you and I are going to put our heads together and figure out how to send the Black Swan a few secret messages of our own—preferably covered in glittery poop. But in the meantime I think we need to do what they say.”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, unclenching her fists and staring at the red dent where the alicorn pin she’d been squeezing had cut into her palm.

  “So . . . you’re the pro at figuring out their clues. Any theories?” Keefe asked.

  “I’m assuming this has something to do with Silveny,” she said, holding up the pin. “Especially since they left the clue at her enclosure.”

  “And the note?”

  She sighed. “No idea.”

  They had to mean her fear, since the message said, “Face your fears.” But what did they think she was afraid of—besides a lifetime of being a useless, malfunctioning creation? She was already facing that.

  She didn’t like doctors—but she faced that fear all the time too.

  What else was she afraid of?

  Her stomach turned sour as an idea hit her.

  “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

  She nodded miserably and dug out her Imparter.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “We’re going to need extra help for this part,” she said, hating that she had to ask this favor. But she had no other choice, so she squared her shoulders and commanded, “Show me Dex.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  DOES HE REALLY NEED TO be here?” Dex asked, glaring at Keefe.

  Keefe smirked. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  Sophie rubbed her temples. She had bigger problems than two stubborn boys. One big, gray, muscly one in particular.

  “We can handle this, Sandor,” she told him for the tenth time.

  “You’re trying to break into a place your parents have not only forbidden you to go, but have built a special locked gate specifically to keep you away from. Be glad I haven’t barricaded you in your room.”

  “Whoa, Gigantor’s hardcore. And why are Grady and Edaline so . . .” Keefe’s voice trailed off and his smile faded. “This is where it happened, isn’t it? Where you guys were . . .”

  Sophie cleared her throat. “Yeah.”

  The Cliffside gate was in plain sight of the clue the Black Swan had planted—and they’d hidden it inside a lock. That had to mean they wanted her to pick the lock on the gate and go back to the one place she’d vowed never to go again. The cave where it all went wrong.

  Face your fears.

  “Is that why you needed Dex here?” Keefe asked quietly.

  Actually, having Dex there made it worse. He was just as terrified as she was—and she hated putting him through it again. “He’s the only one who can open the lock. He’s—”

  She glanced at Dex.

  Dex sighed. “Might as well tell him—he seems to know everything else.”

  “Oh, more secrets. I love secrets!” Keefe added.

  “Dex is a Technopath.”

  Dex cringed at the word, but Keefe’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That is awesome! Why is that a secret?”

  Dex stared at the lock—a small silver orb that dangled from a chain between the two gates—as he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with pink.

  “So you can just, like, make a gadget do whatever you want?”

  “Sorta.” Dex traced his finger over the metal, making it flash with a rush of runes. “It’s more like I understand them. I ask them how to do what I want and they tell me.”

  “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard—and, dude, we need to team up. Think of all the chaos we could cause!”

  Dex’s face was tomato red by that point—but he was also grinning from ear to ear. It made Sophie want to hug them both, but then the silver lock flashed green in Dex’s hands and clicked open, letting the chain slip free.

  “Step aside,” Sandor ordered, pushing past them as he drew his curved black sword. “Everyone stay behind me.”

  He threw open the gate and started down the narrow zigzagging stairway that cut a path down the steep cliff to the sandy cove below. It was a path Sophie had walked dozens and dozens of times—but her legs still didn’t want to cooperate.

  Dex’s didn’t seem to be working either.

  “Come on, guys,” Keefe said, nudging his way between them and hooking his arms through theirs. “Gigantor’s got us covered.”

  Sophie tried to believe him as they made the long, slow descent, but her insides had still tangled into knots on top of knots, and by the time they reached the white sandy beach, she was pretty sure she was going to throw up. Especially when she turned to face the largest cave.

  The wide gap in the weathered rocks held good memories and bad memories and the worst memory of them all, the moment where everything got flipped inside out and upside down and ripped apart. When three dark-cloaked figures jumped out of the shadows and took her and Dex away.

  Sandor thoroughly inspected each of the caves before giving them the all clear.

  “So, we going in?” Keefe asked when everyone hesitated.

  Dex dropped Keefe’s arm and backed up. “I’m sorry—I can’t. I . . .”

  “Hey,” Sophie said, waiting for him to look at her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. Just wait here.”

  She knew exactly how he felt. But she had to face her fears.

  “This is for Alden,” she whispered as she took a step forward. Then another. Sandor and Keefe started to follow but she held out her arms. “I’d rather do this one alone, if that’s okay? I’ll call if I need you.”

  She didn’t know what was waiting for her in there, but she wanted to face it on her own. She was tired of being afraid.

  Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the roar of the ocean as she took the last few steps and entered the dimly lit cave. Shadows danced along the walls and across the packed sand floor, and her eyes were drawn to the spot where she’d collapsed to cry. Right before the arms had reached out and—

  She counted her breaths and forced the memory out of her mind. She had one job to do, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.

  A tiny pile on the floor in the back of the cave caught her attention, and as she made her way over, her breath caught in her throat.

  Freshly churned sand.

  She spun around, checking for any sign that she wasn’t alone. But whoever had stirred up the ground was gone. They’d left something, though. A small clump of twigs and branches on a nook in the rocks.

  A nest.

  Tucked in the center was a small, mirrored trinket box with a familiar black curve worked into the latch. She closed her eyes and made a silent wish that this would be the answer she needed, then plucked the tiny cube from the twigs.

  Inside she found another scrap of paper and a tiny black swan. Not a pin this time—a charm. Carved much more crudely, with jagged cuts and very little detail, which seemed strange. But she was sur
e there was a reason. She hoped the clue would make it clearer.

  There were two lines of text on the note when she unfolded it, but her eyes only saw the first. A small sob slipped through her lips as she read the four words that changed everything.

  We can fix you.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  YOU OKAY IN THERE?” KEEFE called, startling Sophie so much she almost dropped the note.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”

  She sank to the nearest rock, taking deep breaths to stop the shaking.

  They could fix her.

  They didn’t say how—this was the Black Swan, after all. But she was willing to forgive them for the lies and the secrets and the ways they’d messed with her life. Even if they were the bad guys—she would trust them if it could make her right again.

  All she needed was to figure out the clue.

  The note had another sentence. One that was just as vague and unhelpful as the other times she’d heard it:

  Follow the pretty bird across the sky.

  She studied the crude black swan charm again. It hardly qualified as a “pretty bird.”

  Although . . .

  She glanced back at the nest, where the sand was freshly dredged. There were no other footprints, almost like someone had popped out of the ground and then tunneled back in.

  Dwarves.

  Maybe that’s how the Black Swan were keeping tabs on her. And if they had dwarves on their side, maybe—

  “One more minute or I’m coming in there,” Sandor called.

  “I’ll be right out.” Sophie tucked the charm back in its pouch, along with the note, and shoved both in her shoe. Yes, she’d promised Keefe and Sandor she’d keep them in the loop, but this was about her. She hadn’t even told Keefe she needed to be fixed—and she intended to keep it that way.

  But they’d never believe she didn’t find anything, so she grabbed some of the twigs from the nest and snapped off the ends until they fit inside the box. She checked her pockets, wishing she were more like Dex, always carrying interesting things. Then she remembered the trackers.

 

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