“Careful,” Sophie warned as he held the disk up to the grayish light. “I’m sure that’s covered in aromark.”
The powerful ogre enzyme wouldn’t hurt him. But it could only be removed through an unpleasant process.
“I’ve only seen aromark on metal,” Magnate Leto murmured. “And this symbol . . .”
He traced his finger over the thin white etchings across the top—a line decorated with dashes, sandwiched between two different-size circles.
“Do you know what it means?” Sophie asked.
“Sadly, no,” Magnate Leto admitted. “But I’ve seen it before—along with other similar markings—on a shard of memory I recently recovered.”
“From who?” Sophie asked.
Magnate Leto sighed, letting several seconds crawl by before he told her, “From Prentice.”
FOUR
PRENTICE,” SOPHIE REPEATED, not sure if she felt relieved or furious. “The same Prentice you’ve been telling me isn’t strong enough to have me search his mind?”
“That would be him,” Magnate Leto agreed, and with that, Sophie’s fury won.
Prentice used to be a Keeper for the Black Swan, in charge of protecting their most crucial secrets. And he’d allowed his sanity to be broken to prevent the Council from discovering Sophie’s existence. He’d spent years locked away in the elves’ underground prison, needing her abilities to grow strong enough to heal him. But when Sophie was finally ready—and the Council had freed him from Exile—his consciousness disappeared, leaving him an empty shell.
Nothing had seemed capable of bringing him back—until a few weeks earlier, when Prentice woke up. Sophie had assumed the news meant he’d made a major recovery, but sadly, his mind was still badly broken. She’d been begging the Black Swan to let her heal him, and each time she’d been told that Prentice’s mind was too weak, too fragile, too unstable.
“Why would you lie to me?” she snapped as Edaline placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
“I didn’t,” Magnate Leto promised. “I told you he wasn’t ready to be healed—not searched.”
“And I thought my enhanced abilities made me the only one strong enough to search a broken mind,” Sophie argued.
“You are. I paid dearly for my attempt. But I had to see if I could figure out why he called swan song.”
The Black Swan used the words as a code, to warn each other when they were in extreme danger. Prentice had given the signal right before the Council arrested him, almost like he’d known it was coming.
“Why didn’t you let me help you search his mind, then?” Sophie asked.
“Because . . . I didn’t trust myself not to beg you to heal him. You have no idea how much it pains me to leave him in darkness. But his mind needs to grow stronger before we bring him back to full consciousness. He has far too much to bear—and if his sanity collapses again, I fear there won’t be enough left for you to attempt another repair.”
The crack in his voice deflated a bit of Sophie’s anger.
The rest faded when she admitted she shared the same worries.
A lot had changed in Prentice’s life since he’d sacrificed his sanity. His wife, Cyrah, had died in some sort of light leaping accident. And his son, Wylie, had grown up barely knowing his father. That was a tremendous amount of grief for a weakened mind to process.
“You could’ve at least told me what was going on,” Sophie grumbled.
“I know. When it comes to Prentice, I never seem to follow the course of wisdom. I suppose I feel too responsible.”
“How do you think I feel? He’s broken because of me!”
“Careful, Sophie,” Grady warned. “You saw what thoughts like that did to Alden.”
Alden’s guilt over his role in Prentice’s capture—even though he hadn’t known Prentice was one of the good guys at the time—had shattered his sanity. If Sophie hadn’t found the strength to heal him, he’d still be lost to the madness.
She took a steadying breath and pointed to the black disk. “We need to find out what that symbol means. And the best way to do that is to take me to see Prentice—just to search his mind for additional memories. Not to heal him.”
Magnate Leto’s jaw set and Sophie braced for him to argue. But when he spoke, he told her, “I suppose I can arrange to bring you tomorrow.”
“Why not now?” Sophie pressed.
“Probably not a good day to sneak away,” Grady reminded her, pointing to the crystal dangling from her choker-style registry necklace. The pendant monitored her location—and while a Technopath could cheat the signal, after what happened at Foxfire the Councillors would likely be watching her much too closely.
“Do you think it’ll be safe to slip away tomorrow?” Edaline asked.
“It will with careful arrangements.” Magnate Leto tucked the black disk into his cape pocket. “I’ll test this for enzymes tonight, just to be safe. I’ll also see if I can figure out what it’s made of. And we should get rid of this.”
He handed Keefe’s cloak to Brielle.
“Do you want me to salvage the tracker?” she asked.
“No, I think it’s best we avoid the Neverseen’s attention until we better understand the significance of the disk. I’d prefer that they believe we destroyed the cloak without discovering its secret.”
Brielle headed for the door, her curls bouncing with every step. “Will fire be enough?”
“As long as the tracker melts completely.” He turned to Sophie. “I’ll be back to pick you up at dawn, along with Mr. Vacker. I think it would be wise for you to have your Cognate on hand. He won’t be able to enter Prentice’s mind, but he can boost your mental energy.”
Sophie’s stomach soured. “Does Fitz know that Keefe was behind what happened today?”
“If he doesn’t already, he will soon. His father hailed me before I left campus, and I promised to get back to him with details. I suspect he fears his eldest son was involved. Why? Is that a problem?”
“It might be. Fitz has been weird about Keefe. It’s like he wants to pretend they were never best friends.”
“Sometimes that’s easier,” Edaline said quietly. “Missing someone can hurt too much. It’s safer to be angry.”
Anger definitely was Fitz’s default. But his reaction to Keefe felt different.
Less angry. More . . . afraid.
“Well, if there’s one thing I have no doubt of,” Magnate Leto said as he reached for his pathfinder—a slender wand with an adjustable leaping crystal on one end—“it’s that you know how to help your friends through their struggles. Perhaps you can help Mr. Vacker tomorrow. In the meantime, try to get some rest. I’ll need you in top form to face Prentice.”
They watched him glitter away, leaving behind a silence that felt itchy.
“I think I’m going to shower and get in bed early,” Sophie decided, kissing each of her parents’ cheeks before heading upstairs, where her bedroom suite took up the entire third floor.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?” Edaline called after her.
“Probably not.”
But no one offered her any sleeping aids. They knew how much Sophie hated sedatives, after all the times her enemies had drugged her. Even Sandor said nothing as he completed his nightly security sweep of her bedroom. But his check was more thorough than usual—inspecting every corner and closet and cranny—despite the fact that none of the petals in the flowered carpet showed even the slightest trace of a new footprint.
“All clear,” he announced after peeking under her giant canopied bed. “And I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
As soon as he closed her door, Sophie jumped straight in the shower to let the warm, colored streams wash away the last flecks of glass. They looked insignificant as they swirled down the drain. But her brain wouldn’t stop repeating what Keefe had told her.
Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better.
Emotions swelled with each reminder. Fear. Doubt. Dread.
She closed her eyes and imagined each as a solid thread—then twisted them into the knot under her ribs the way Councillor Bronte had taught her. The tangle burned as she worked, and she pressed her hands against her skin, taking deep breaths until the feelings cooled.
Worry can bring power, Bronte had told her. Better to embrace it than ignore it.
But as she crawled into bed and clung tightly to Ella—the bright blue stuffed elephant she couldn’t sleep without—new threads of fear kept flaring up. Even when Iggy—her tiny pet imp—flitted to her pillow and snuggled his blue furry body up next to her, his squeaky purring couldn’t make her relax. Only one thing might help—the thing she’d been too scared to try before.
Her enhanced telepathic abilities allowed her to stretch her consciousness impossibly far and transmit to people and creatures on the other side of the world. She mostly used the talent to communicate with Fitz—or for her regular check-ins with Silveny to make sure everything was going safely with the alicorn’s pregnancy. But that night, there was someone she needed to talk to so much more.
Keefe?
She sent the thought spiraling through the deep black nothingness, shoving the call with her full mental strength. She’d never pushed her limits to communicate with someone who wasn’t a Telepath—which was the excuse she’d been using for why she hadn’t tried this before. But really, she’d been afraid she couldn’t trust him.
Or that he would ignore her.
Keefe? she called again, repeating the word over and over. He wouldn’t be able to transmit back to her, so she’d have to connect directly to his thoughts.
She pressed her consciousness lower, imagining she was aiming for his mind like an arrow slicing through the night. A rush of warmth flooded her head when she finally hit the mark, along with a single, shaky thought.
Foster?
Yes! she transmitted—a bit too loudly. She lowered her mental voice before asking, Can you still hear me?
DUDE. This wins for freakiest mind trick ever!
Sorry! Did I scare you?
You think? How does Fitz not pee his pants every time you do this—or wait, DOES HE?
Don’t be gross.
I’m not. I’m keeping it real. And, um . . . does this mean you’re searching my memories right now?
She didn’t actually know if she could from so far away—but it didn’t matter. She’d paid the price for violating the rules of telepathy too many times.
Besides—if she was going to trust Keefe, she had to trust him.
I’m keeping my mind focused on what you’re saying, she promised—though his loudest thoughts buzzed in the back of her consciousness like a TV in the background. So she could hear how relieved he was to know that she was safe—and even more so that she was still talking to him. He also sounded very worried that someone would catch them communicating.
Is this a bad time? she asked.
No. But I’m glad Ruy and Alvar are heavy sleepers. There was definite squealing and flailing when I first heard your voice.
The idea of him being so close to one of her kidnappers—and the Psionipath who’d attacked her and Biana—made Sophie shiver. Can you go somewhere we can talk?
I’m not allowed to leave my room without one of them with me. But I should be fine here, as long as I stay still. So . . . what’s up? Did something happen?
Aside from you destroying part of Foxfire?
Hey, it was my turn to blow up the school. You’ve been hogging all the fun.
This isn’t a joke, Keefe.
It can be if we make it one. We just have to commit!
Sophie sighed, letting her frustration ripple through her mind.
Nobody was hurt, right? he asked.
You got lucky this time, she agreed.
Luck had nothing to do with it. I planned it perfectly.
That’s exactly the kind of overconfidence that’s going to get you killed.
Not necessarily. I know you don’t want to hear this—and believe me, I’m not happy about it either—but . . . I’m kind of important to their plans. At least, I think I am. I’m still working it all out. But I can tell they want me here. I just have to convince them they can trust me before they’ll tell me why—and I made some serious progress today. Fintan totally looked ready to join Team Keefe when I met him at the rendezvous point so he could bring me to the hideout.
Every part of that made Sophie sick to her stomach. But she reminded herself that he was doing this for a reason—the same reason she’d reached out to him.
If you’re really going to stay there, you need to let me help. You can’t keep sneaking away—sooner or later they’ll catch you. So I’ll reach out to you like this every night and you can tell me anything you’ve learned.
That’s actually not a bad idea, he admitted. Though it does mean I won’t get to use my brilliant plan for my next escape. It didn’t have any explosions, either. Just a LOT of selkie skin.
Sophie felt her lips smile, even if she probably shouldn’t.
I’m not going to be able to tell you everything, though, his mind added quietly. I can only leak so much without getting caught.
I know. Sophie tried not to wonder how much he was already hiding. Are nights safer to reach you? Or would mornings be better?
Definitely nights. My training starts early—and I’m sure you’re probably imagining all kinds of scary things, so just know the stuff they’ve been having me do isn’t a big deal.
That’ll change once they really trust you.
Yeah. Probably.
It was his cue to tell her he had a brilliant plan for that, too. But his mind had gone achingly silent.
I really hope you know what you’re doing.
I do. I can’t promise I won’t have to be a part of some more shady things. But I know where the hard lines are, and I won’t cross them.
She could feel the threads of his conviction, like roots digging deep. But whether they would hold him steady through the coming storms, she couldn’t tell.
She’d have to keep an eye on him.
Is this the best time to reach out to you each night? she asked.
Yep—it’s a date. Tell your boyfriends not to be jealous.
She wished she had a way to roll her eyes in a mental conversation. I don’t have any boyfriends.
I dunno. I can think of a few dudes who might not be fans of all this Keefoster time.
Keefoster?
Sounds way cooler than Sophitz or Dophie, right? And don’t even get me started on Bangs Boy. By the way—don’t think I didn’t notice those new rings on your thumbs today. The Fitzster has a matching set, doesn’t he? I bet they look so cute when you guys are holding hands and staring deep into each other’s eyes.
We don’t stare into—why are we talking about this?
Would you rather hear about how loud Ruy snores? Or how this room smells like rotting toenails? Or Alvar’s crazy theories for who the Forklenator is?
The last question reminded her that Keefe had already run off before the Magnate Leto–Mr. Forkle reveal happened.
You found out another one of his identities, didn’t you? Keefe guessed.
I did. But I don’t think it’d be good to tell you. You already have enough secrets to protect.
There you go, ruining all the fun with your logic.
I guess that’s my job.
That doesn’t mean you have to be so good at it—though it is kinda nice having someone look out for me.
You don’t make it easy.
Another thing you and I have in common.
His floating thoughts made it clear how determined he was to protect her. It made her heart somehow both light and heavy at the same time.
Have you learned anything else I should know? she asked.
I wish. They haven’t let me meet any of the other members of their order yet. And this run-down shack I’m in is where they bring all new recruits because there’s nothing worth finding. They won’t give me my
own crystal or pathfinder—and the ones they let me borrow always leap to neutral meeting places.
They trusted you enough to let you help at the Sanctuary, she reminded him.
Only because that mission was about causing chaos. They knew they wouldn’t get inside the preserve. They just wanted to make the Council look bad and keep people on edge.
Is that what the registry was about too?
No, they were super secretive about that, so I’m betting there was more to it. It’s on my list of things I’m trying to find out.
What else is on that list?
Not gonna lie—it’s a LOT. But I’m trying to focus on details that will tell me how to shut them down.
Well . . . I know one thing that might be worth looking into. Her mind filled with the symbol from the black disk they’d found in his cloak.
Am I supposed to know what that is? Keefe asked.
You’ve never seen it before?
Nope. Why, where did you find it?
If you don’t know, I don’t think I should tell you. It might be something they’re trying to keep hidden from you. Just keep an eye out for it, okay?
Done. Anything else?
That’s all I can think of for now.
Awesome. Then it’s my turn to ask you a question. He paused, like he was gearing up for something incredibly important. How’d Dizznee react to your new rings?
Sophie shook her head, refusing to dignify the question with a response.
You can ignore it all you want, Foster, but sooner or later you’re going to have to solve the triangle. Or should we get real and call it a square?
I have no idea what you mean.
I’m pretty sure you do. I bet if I were there I could feel your mood shifting.
Right, because I’m trying to figure out if it’s possible to strangle you with my thoughts!
There you go, rocking the whole adorable-when-you’re-angry thing. I think that’s what I’ve missed about you the most.
She knew he was only teasing—but she still found herself transmitting, I miss you, too.
His thoughts went quiet for a second. And when he came back, his mental voice sounded heavier.
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