Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3)

by Shannon Messenger

  The word triggered a murmur in the crowd, and Councillor Emery waited for them to fall silent before he continued.

  “We did not ask for the role of peacekeepers on this complicated, ever-changing planet. And yet it is the role we were born to take. Our unique gifts and abilities have enabled us to secure stability amongst our world, as well as the five protected kingdoms, for millennia. And despite recent turmoil, our role has not changed. Our rule will not fall to threats, or rebellion. Nor will we stand back and let insubordination go unpunished.”

  Sophie was pretty sure every eye in the room was on her at that point, but she didn’t scoot down in her chair. Her legs didn’t even tremble as she stood at Councillor Emery’s command—but her heart pounded so hard it hurt as she climbed the stairs and took center stage.

  “We’ve heard many cries for various punishments for the child you see before you—and I can assure you, we considered each one at great length. It’s an extremely complicated issue. On the one hand, many of the actions that have angered you were things Sophie didn’t necessarily choose. Others—while wrong—were largely the result of a lack of experience. We all must remember, Sophie Foster is not normal.”

  Sophie closed her eyes as the words rattled around her mind. She knew they were true. Yet somehow that made them hurt more.

  “This child—through no fault of her own—has been given abilities she neither understands nor is able to control. Pair that with a lack of education and experience in our laws, and we have the perfect formula for disaster. But do we blame an out of control cart for crashing? Or do we blame the driver?”

  More murmurs and mutterings, many of them clearly blaming her. But Sophie was more freaked out by the realization that she had no idea where Emery was going with this. It didn’t sound like the kind of speech that was going to end in we order Sophie to scoop dinosaur poop at the Sanctuary for the rest of the year.

  “Most of you have heard mention of a Black Swan group hiding in the shadows,” Councillor Emery continued, starting to pace now. “And many of you are aware that they’re the very organization responsible for the existence of the child standing before us. Perhaps you’ve even heard whispers of good deeds they’ve done to cover their bad. Rumors of future plans meant to save us all. And you probably haven’t known how to feel about this information. Neither have we. Such open defiance has never existed in our world, and our inherent desire to believe the best in our people has caused us to hold back, hoping to discover a missing piece that would plant this organization on the side of right. Instead, all we find is wrong.”

  He turned to stare at Sophie, making it clear he included her in that wrongness, and she wished they’d given her something to hold herself steady. Her wobbly knees couldn’t carry her much longer.

  “We promised you an announcement tonight,” Emery continued, “and it is this. Our vow to you that our primary goal is now to track down the members of this organization and punish them for their illegal actions. And we shall not rest until every last one has been captured.”

  “What?” Sophie asked, not sure if anyone could hear her over the roar of the crowd.

  She couldn’t tell if they were cheering or complaining. But she could see Grady on his feet—and Alden moving toward him from his seat a few rows farther back. Their mouths seemed to be saying the same thing she was.

  “You’re going after the wrong group!”

  If Councillor Emery heard them, he ignored it. Instead he called the crowd back to order, holding out his hands as Councillor Liora conjured a small flat black box into them.

  “We realize this task we’ve sworn to will be no easy matter,” he said, moving slowly toward Sophie. “We’re hunting a group who’ve become extremely skilled in the art of hiding. Nevertheless, we will find them. And in the meantime we will do everything we can to minimize the damage they’ve done to our world. Which is why we’ve created this.”

  He opened the box, pulling out a silver circlet with three flat stones set into the curled pattern. Something about the design looked familiar, but Sophie’s mind was spinning too fast to make the connection.

  It wasn’t until he raised it over her head that she realized what was happening.

  Two of the Council’s bodyguards rushed to her sides, holding her in place as Councillor Emery clamped the silver band around her forehead.

  The circlet was Dex’s telepathy restrictor.

  The Council was trying to take away her abilities.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  SOPHIE COULDN’T THINK THROUGH THE PAIN.

  The world had twisted into a smear of color and light—echoing with pounding, pulsing screams. She could feel her body being bumped and jostled, but she couldn’t tell what was happening. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was still awake—and she hoped she wasn’t.

  If this was reality, she wasn’t sure how to survive it. Except to retreat from the agony.

  She pulled her consciousness back, following a feint trail of warmth to the nook in her mind. Soft gray fog curled around her and she buried herself in it, sinking deeper and deeper until the last of the noise faded.

  She was safe.

  Happy, even.

  Content to curl up tight and stay there forever.

  But reality came crashing back, flooding her senses with light and sound as someone shook her awake.

  “Sophie, can you hear me?” a deep, accented voice asked. “Nod if you can hear me.”

  Sophie nodded, triggering a chorus of relieved sighs.

  Arms wrapped around her then—a tangle so thick, she couldn’t tell how many people were holding her. She leaned into them, soaking up their strength and support until she could open her eyes.

  Blurry shapes slowly morphed into faces.

  Too many faces.

  It took her brain a second to work out that some of them lived only in mirrors, and another second after that to recognize Dame Alina’s old pyramid-shaped office. In front of her stood Elwin, Tiergan, and Alden, looking stressed and weary as they studied her. Grady and Edaline hovered behind them with tear-stained faces, along with a ghostly pale Magnate Leto. Behind them were all twelve Councillors—none of whom seemed to want to look at her. And cowering behind everyone was a crying, trembling Dex.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled when Sophie met his eyes. “I didn’t know—I swear. I thought—”

  “There is nothing to apologize for,” Councillor Emery interrupted. “Obeying the order of the Council is never to be regretted.”

  “In this case it is!” Grady shouted. “You may be able to ban Sandor from this room—but I will defend her when he can’t. How could you even think of doing this to an innocent child?”

  “If she’s so innocent,” Councillor Emery said calmly, “why did she illegally visit a Forbidden City yesterday?”

  “How did you . . . ?” Sophie started to ask, but her voice trailed off when she remembered the registry pendant clamped around her neck.

  “Yes, Miss Foster,” Councillor Emery said as she reached for her necklace. “We do have ways to keep track of you. We choose not to use such methods very often, to protect our people’s freedom. But imagine our disappointment when we checked yours yesterday—during a particularly heated debate regarding your punishment, no less—and found you had visited your former residence. We do not know why you went there, but we can only assume it had something to do with the Black Swan. Which is why we decided on a more drastic punishment.”

  He held out the telepathy restrictor, no longer clamped around her head—which explained why she could think again.

  She shrank back in her chair, and Grady and Edaline moved in front of her, shielding her behind them. Alden and Tiergan moved to their sides.

  “You’re not getting anywhere near her with that,” Grady warned.

  “The matter has already been decided,” Councillor Emery said calmly.
“And interfering with the Council’s decisions is a treasonous offense.”

  Grady snorted. “Not if the Council’s gone crazy.”

  “Watch yourself, Lord Ruewen,” one of the Councillors Sophie had never heard speak before told him. “We have dwarves on standby, ready to haul any resisters off to Exile. We will not tolerate such disrespect.”

  “But can you tolerate cruelty?” Alden asked quietly. “You saw how the device affected her. She was practically catatonic.”

  “And you should see the damage to her cells,” Elwin chimed in. “It’ll take three serums to heal it.”

  Sophie tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry.

  Was her brain damaged?

  “And that was only from a few minutes with the device,” Alden reminded them. “I understand you’ve never used this technology before, but surely now that you’ve seen the effect, you realize it’s far too dangerous.”

  “What we realize is that it needs some final adjustments. Mr. Dizznee!” Councillor Emery called, his voice ringing off the glass walls. “You told us this gadget might need to be calibrated to the individual, correct?”

  Dex stumbled back, scrambling for the door. “I’m not helping you with that.”

  “The door is being guarded, Mr. Dizznee. And need I remind you that disobeying a direct order from the Council is an exile-able offense?” Councillor Emery asked.

  “Before you answer that, Dex, might I also remind you that you are not the only Technopath who can help us with this?” Councillor Alina chimed in quietly. “Surely you’d rather make the needed adjustments yourself?”

  “Are you really in support of this, Alina?” Alden asked. “Destroying the abilities of a child—”

  “Restricting them,” Councillor Alina corrected. “And yes, I am. I find it rather interesting that you all keep referring to her as a child. Have you forgotten that most children Sophie’s age have yet to even manifest an ability? The reason for that—one can only assume—is that our genetics know that we are not ready to handle power at such a tender age. The Black Swan broke the laws of nature by triggering Sophie’s abilities too early. And don’t even get me started on how many they gave her.”

  “My son manifested at thirteen,” Alden reminded her. “And Biana just did as well.”

  “Yes, and Sophie manifested her telepathy at five,” Councillor Emery argued back. He sighed, running his hands through his dark hair as he turned to face Sophie, Grady, and Edaline. “It brings us no pleasure having to do this. But Sophie is out of control. Her abilities must be reined in. For the safety of us all.”

  The rest of the Council nodded in agreement, except Terik and Oralie, and—quite surprisingly—Bronte.

  She only had three supporters, Sophie realized.

  And one of them didn’t even like her.

  “Perhaps there’s another way,” Magnate Leto suggested in the silence that followed. “A full-time chaperone, or—”

  “The Council has already considered all other possibilities,” Councillor Emery interrupted, emphasizing the word “Council” to make it clear that Magnate Leto was not a part of it.

  If only he’d been elected instead of Dame Alina—though that would still only leave her with four supporters. But four was better than three.

  “Now, Mr. Dizznee,” Councillor Emery said, holding out the ability restrictor to Dex. “Please don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

  Dex locked his knees and shook his head as thick, sloppy tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “It’s okay, Dex,” Sophie said quietly. “Just do what they’re saying.”

  “How can you say that?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  Because it was the only way she could think of to get the people she cared about safely out of that room.

  “If Dex can make it so it doesn’t hurt,” she told Grady and Edaline, “then . . . fine. It only affects my abilities, right?”

  “Right,” Councillor Alina answered immediately, though Sophie wondered how she could really know. “And it will only be until you’re older and mature enough to handle such things—and until the Black Swan’s threat is contained.”

  “The Black Swan is not the threat,” Alden said firmly.

  “We are not getting into that debate,” Councillor Emery informed him, grabbing Dex’s arm and dragging him forward. “Make the adjustments we need.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Sophie promised, when Dex still wouldn’t cooperate. “Please, Dex. I could never live with myself if you got exiled for me.”

  “And how am I supposed to live with this?” he whispered.

  “Comfortable in the knowledge that you did the right thing,” Councillor Emery told him, waving the circlet under Dex’s nose.

  Sophie could see the emotions warring in Dex’s eyes and knew he wasn’t ready to agree.

  “No one will do a better job making it painless for me,” she whispered.

  That seemed to be the key.

  Slowly, hands shaking, Dex took the circlet from Councillor Emery and stumbled to Sophie’s side.

  “If this hurts her, you will not like what happens,” Grady warned, addressing his threat to the entire group.

  “We are well aware of your abilities, Lord Ruewen,” Councillor Emery told him. “Don’t make us restrict you, as well.”

  “You’d never get the chance.”

  All twelve Councillor’s arms flew up, their hands lightly smacking each side of their faces.

  Judging by the mix of fury and fear in their eyes, Sophie knew they’d been mesmerized into the action.

  She grabbed Grady’s hand to stop him from going further. “Please don’t fight them. It’s going to be okay.”

  Grady’s eyes turned glassy. But he nodded and moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her as Edaline did the same.

  “I thought I was helping,” Dex whispered as he stared at his horrible creation. “I never thought . . .”

  “I know,” Sophie told him.

  “But you tried to warn me. You said I shouldn’t—and I still did—and now . . .”

  Dex was crying harder by then, and Sophie could only think of one thing that might help.

  She pulled him in for a hug.

  “You’re going to hate me now,” he whispered through the sobs.

  Sophie promised she wouldn’t, hoping it was true. Then she let Dex go, holding his stare as she reminded him that the Councillors were waiting.

  Dex’s hands shook so hard he nearly dropped the circlet as he closed his eyes. His fingers traced up and down the curled silver wires, bending and kinking them in slightly different ways as beads of sweat trickled down his temples. His whole face was dripping when he finally opened his eyes, letting out a choked sob as he held out the gadget.

  “Will that fix it?” Councillor Emery asked, taking the circlet before Dex even answered.

  “I don’t know,” Dex told him, his voice dripping with venom. “Maybe we should test it on you.”

  Councillor Emery paled at the suggestion, and his voice was wobbly as he told him, “That would be pointless. You were supposed to be customizing it specifically for Sophie. So let’s see if you have.”

  “It’s okay,” Sophie whispered as Grady tried to block him. “Dex made sure it’s okay, right?”

  Dex’s nod wasn’t nearly as confident as she would have liked. Still, she clung to Grady and Edaline, promising them everything would be okay as Councillor Emery held the circlet over her head.

  “I can’t watch,” Elwin mumbled, turning away.

  Oralie, Terik, and Bronte did the same.

  The rest stared in silence as Councillor Emery placed the circlet around her forehead and pressed the stones against each of her temples.

  A sour wave rippled through her body. But there was no blinding headache—just a fuzzy sound in
the back of her mind, like static.

  “Are you okay?” Grady asked, crouching down to get a closer look.

  Elwin was already flashing colors around her head and squinting through the light. “Her cells seem okay. A bit sluggish, but no further damage—so far.”

  “I’m fine,” Sophie promised, wishing she had something to wash down the sour taste. She sucked in slow, deep breaths, relieved when they eased some of the nausea. “Really, I’m okay.”

  Councillor Emery frowned. “Why can’t I get past her blocking? Shouldn’t I be able to?”

  “Perhaps the device blocks all telepathic activity, even that from the outside,” one of the Councillors suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Councillor Emery said slowly. “But how do we know if the device is actually working?”

  “We should test her,” Councillor Liora suggested. “Sophie, can you tell me what I’m thinking?”

  “And how will that be conclusive?” Councillor Emery asked. “She could just lie.”

  “Then we’ll have Oralie judge her emotions,” Councillor Alina suggested.

  “No—I will have no part in this,” Oralie told them in the closest thing to a shout Sophie had ever heard her use.