“So, you agree with the plan?”
“I do!” Fitz called from across the room—and just like that she was wide awake. “Bring on the training!”
Sophie turned toward him, so relieved to see his beautiful eyes staring at her that she didn’t care that he’d been eavesdropping. “You don’t think I’m losing my mind?”
His jaw set. “No, I think you’re angry. And I’m right there with you.”
“So am I,” Biana said, appearing in a shadowy corner.
“Vanishers,” Keefe grumbled. “How long have you been there?”
“Not that long.” Biana blinked in and out of sight as she moved closer. “I snuck off with my dad when he went with Sandor and Grady to talk to Magnate Leto about security. But I stayed for this, because I wanted to make sure you guys didn’t decide something without me, since you’ve been super overprotective lately.”
“We have?” Sophie asked.
“Not you. But Fitz refused to let me go to Grizel’s training sessions. And Woltzer won’t teach me either.”
“That’s because Woltzer doesn’t like you,” Fitz informed her. “You’re always sneaking off and getting him in trouble for losing his charge. Like right now.”
Biana grinned. “It’s not my fault he can’t keep up with me. And all I’m saying is, I’m sick of being treated like I’m some broken doll because of what Vespera did—and you know that’s what you’ve been doing.”
“We found you passed out in a puddle of your own blood!” Fitz argued.
“You don’t have to remind me!” Biana snapped back, rolling up one of her sleeves and revealing the scars that Sophie knew she’d been hiding.
Most of the jagged lines had faded to white—but each mark still told a clear story of pain. And it looked like that story extended to Biana’s shoulder, back, and neck, too.
“The next time I take on Vespera, I want to win,” Biana said, tracing her finger down the thickest scar, which curled across her biceps in a long, raised arc. “And I’m sure Tam, Dex, and Linh will want to get in on this. Probably Marella, too. Maybe even Wylie. We should ask them.”
“You guys realize you’re forgetting one huge detail, right?” Keefe asked.
“You mean the fact that Fitz and I are on bed rest and Dex’s arm is in a sling?” Sophie guessed.
“Seems at least worth mentioning,” Keefe agreed.
Sophie glared at her bandages. “I know. But the rest of you guys can get started without us, and we’ll join in as soon as we can. Plus, we can work on skills like telekinesis and outward channeling—even night vision and body temperature regulation.”
“And don’t forget about Cognate training!” Fitz added. “It’s actually kind of perfect that we have to stay here together. Bring on the marathon training sessions!”
Sophie tried to make her smile look at least a little bit genuine.
But the only thing worse than confessing her crush to Fitz would be having to confess it in a tiny space neither of them could get away from.
“You okay there, Foster?” Keefe asked. “Your mood just shifted.”
“I’m fine.”
Or, she would be. Because Fitz was right. They needed to put this time to the best use possible, and Cognate training should absolutely be a part of it—even if it was going to be ten thousand kinds of awkward.
“I think you need to rest first, though,” Biana jumped in. “Let the medicine do its job.” Her eyes drifted from Sophie’s bandages to her brother’s, turning slightly glassy. “You guys need to get better, okay?”
“We will,” Sophie promised. “Elwin’s on it.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about us,” Fitz told her. “We’re safe in here. You guys are the ones the Neverseen might come after.”
Biana pulled down her sleeve. “I guess that’s another reason why we should be training. I’ll talk to the others and see if we can come up with a schedule.”
“Wait,” Sophie said as Biana led Keefe toward the door. “Keefe still hasn’t said if he’s with us.”
Keefe’s smile looked sad but determined as he stepped back and took Sophie’s hand. “I’m always with you, Foster. Whatever you want, I’m in. Now get some sleep—it sounds like you’re going to need it!”
• • •
The monster had been waiting for her.
Lurking in the mental shadows, ready to pounce the second Sophie’s consciousness was left unguarded—the moment she stepped from the thick haze of deep sleep and let her mind drift into dreams.
It dragged her down, trapped her in the hidden, chilly abyss where everything was a darker shade of black and thought had no meaning.
That was where the pain lived. Stretching and straining against the edges. Feeding off every awful memory.
Sophie tried to scream—tried to fight.
But the monster roared. And the sound . . .
It was Gethen’s voice.
See you soon, he told her.
Over and over and over—each repetition a blade, slicing slow and deep into her still-healing wounds.
It felt like torture.
It felt like madness.
And then . . .
“Sophie.”
The soft, familiar voice seeped through the shadows, sending Gethen’s words scattering and the monster scurrying away as Sophie followed the trail of warmth up, up, up. Back into the searing light.
“It’s okay,” Edaline whispered, swiping sweaty hair off Sophie’s forehead. “Try not to thrash anymore. It was only a nightmare.”
“A nightmare,” Sophie rasped, latching onto the word.
Nightmares she could handle.
Nightmares were far less scary than monsters.
Everything looked blobby and indistinct as the room came into focus—a splotch of alabaster, a smear of amber, hints of turquoise—until the colors sharpened into the lovely face of her adoptive mother, who was lying next to her on a cot that had been pushed right up against hers.
“Sorry,” Sophie whispered, forcing herself to still as Elwin swooped in, adjusting pillows and untangling blankets before he carefully twisted her body back into the stiff position she’d been in the day before.
She opened her mouth to say more, but . . . she didn’t want to talk about the dream.
Didn’t want to give it words and make it stick around. She wanted it to flicker and fade, the way figments of her imagination tended to do.
But the pain . . .
The pain lingered on.
Gethen’s sharp words had sliced into her head, stabbed into her hand—and now those same places ached.
But she knew that was actually backward.
Dreams were just her subconscious playing games. Weaving thoughts with reality. So her medicine must’ve worn off, and her mind must’ve dragged the pain into her nightmare—no different than when she dreamed of waterfalls and streaming fountains when her bladder wanted her to wake up.
“You okay?” Edaline asked, brushing smooth fingers down Sophie’s cheeks.
Sophie hadn’t realized her face was damp—with tears or sweat, she couldn’t tell. But either way, it explained the pinched shapes that had taken over Edaline’s usually soft features.
She nodded, trying not to wince from the headache. “Just a nightmare.”
Edaline scooted closer, her turquoise eyes studying Sophie as if she were looking for some deeper answer. “We’ll get through this.”
“We will,” Elwin agreed. “And it might help if—”
“No sedatives,” Sophie told him.
She didn’t mean to be stubborn. But triggers were stubborn things, and sedatives brought her mind back to too many dark, drugged days.
Elwin sighed. “Can’t blame a physician for trying. But I get it.” He snapped his fingers, forming an orange orb around her arm. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”
He adjusted his glasses the way he always did. Tilted his head from side to side. But this time he breathed out, “Darn.”
“W
ell . . . that’s not what we want to hear,” Edaline said, forcing a tight smile as she sat up and swept her wavy amber hair behind her narrow shoulders.
“It’s not,” Elwin agreed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry. It looks like the thrashing set us back a day. I can try giving Sophie a double dose of marrow regenerator tonight to see if it gets us back on track. Unless . . .”
“Unless . . . ,” Edaline prompted.
“Just wondering if I have something better.” He moved to the shelves of medicine, squinting at the colorful vials and tracing his fingers over several before snatching one that was a deep, earthy red. “Perfect! I wasn’t sure if I had any left. But it looks like I have one dose—which is more than enough. I made this for Sandor after he got thrown off a mountain—remember that?”
Sophie shivered, wondering how long it’d be before this latest attack would be discussed so casually.
Remember when the Neverseen tried to kill us with creepy shadows?
“He had so many broken bones,” Elwin continued, “that I had to tweak my usual formula. So this should make up for the lost time—maybe even get ahead. Just plug your nose when you take it because this stuff is potent. Bullhorn wouldn’t come near me for three days after I brewed it.”
“Great,” Sophie mumbled. But she still reached for the vial.
“Oh, you can’t take it now,” Elwin told her, tucking the vial into the satchel slung across his shoulders. “We’ll have to wait until right before bed so you can sleep through the worst of the queasiness. This is tough stuff. Like I said, I made it for Sandor, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that he’s a little bigger than you. You’re in for kind of a rough night. But it’ll be worth it to get your bones strong again, I promise. I may check with Livvy, too, and see if she has any suggestions. She usually comes at things differently than I do, so she might think of something I’m missing.”
Livvy was the Black Swan’s physician—though she usually called herself Physic when she played that role—and she’d been part of Project Moonlark, so she understood Sophie’s unique genetics even better than Elwin.
Edaline reached for Sophie’s good hand, tracing her thumb back and forth over Sophie’s glove. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here the whole time.”
“You will?”
Edaline nodded. “Unless you don’t want me to stay.”
She did.
She really did.
But she didn’t want to seem like some wimpy little girl who couldn’t function without her mommy.
“Is Della going to stay too?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. They have a lot going on over at Everglen. And Fitz is still sedated.”
“He is?” She tried to turn to see him, and her brain did not appreciate it.
“What’s wrong?” Elwin asked when she sucked in a breath.
“Just a headache.”
He frowned and snapped his fingers, flashing a purple orb around her face. “What kind of headache?”
“I don’t know. The normal kind? I woke up with it, and it’s just sort of there. Throbbing behind my eyes.”
His frown lines deepened.
“Everything okay?” Edaline asked.
“It is,” Elwin said slowly, switching from purple light to pink. “That’s what I don’t get. I can usually see headaches. They glow right where the pain is centered. But . . .” He tried green, red, yellow, orange, and blue light too, shaking his head after each one. “Nothing. And I know you’re not making it up, Sophie.”
She wished she were.
That would’ve been a whole lot less painful.
But it made her wonder . . .
“What do you see when you look at my hand?” she asked. “The broken one.”
Elwin waited until he’d flashed through every color on the spectrum before he said, “I’m hoping this is a trick question, because I’m not seeing anything. Well . . . I’m seeing the breaks and all the other damage I still have to get to. But the nerves still look dulled from the medicine. Why? Is it hurting?”
She thought about denying it.
But her hand was killing her.
And what was the point?
“It feels like something’s stabbing my fingers,” she admitted. “I woke up with that, too.”
And dreamed about it—but that part she decided to leave out.
“What does that mean?” Edaline asked as Elwin flashed through the spectrum again.
“Well . . . first it means we need to get this girl some more pain medicine,” he said, fishing a pale elixir out of his satchel and handing it to Sophie.
Edaline had to help her pull off the lid, since having only one hand was incredibly annoying—especially since it was her left hand. But it was worth the struggle when the tart elixir tingled through her veins, dulling the throb in her fingers.
“Better?” Elwin asked, draping a cool silver cloth across her forehead.
“So much better,” she breathed as the headache faded. “Thank you.”
“That’s what I’m here for. I wish you’d told me you were in pain earlier.”
“Sorry. I guess I’m used to you knowing what I need without me ever having to ask for it.”
“So am I,” Elwin mumbled, snapping his fingers and flashing various colored orbs around her head and hand again.
“Do they look different now?” Edaline asked.
Elwin blew out a breath. “No. And I really don’t get it. They’re both spots where my light’s a little murky right now for some reason, so that might explain why—but I’m still seeing enough that I should notice something flickering off as the medicine does its job.”
He flashed a color Sophie had never seen him try before: a murky brown that looked like glowing smog. But that didn’t seem to help either.
“You know what?” he said, pulling an Imparter from his pocket. “I’m going to have Tam do another check for shadows, just to be safe.”
He tapped the flat silver square a few times, then shoved it back in his pocket. “There. Magnate Leto said he’ll bring Tam here as soon as study hall’s over.”
“Study hall?” Sophie repeated, scanning what little she could see of the room. The crystal walls had no windows to give her any cues about the time. “How long was I asleep?”
“A little more than a day,” Edaline told her.
“A day?”
Elwin nodded. “You need the rest. If I had my way, I’d keep you knocked out like your cuddly friend over there, but—”
“Cuddly?” Sophie interrupted, skipping right over the sedative part of that conversation.
“See for yourself,” Elwin told her, helping her scoot up a little so she could see where Fitz was sleeping with his arms wrapped around a sparkly red stuffed dragon.
Elwin had given him Mr. Snuggles during the dark months after Alden’s mind shattered, and Keefe had teased him relentlessly when he found out—until everything happened with Keefe’s mom. Then Elwin and Sophie gave Keefe a stuffed green gulon, which Elwin had named Mrs. Stinkbottom—and now both boys were as attached to their sleeping buddies as Sophie was to her Ella.
“She’s right here,” Edaline said, leaning down to scoop up the bright blue, Hawaiian-shirt-wearing stuffed elephant from the floor. “You knocked her off when you were thrashing.”
“Stinky’s hanging with us too,” Elwin told her, retrieving something fluffy and peach from his personal office.
He’d told her once that he couldn’t sleep without his stuffed stegosaurus, but she’d forgotten all about it until right then. And Stinky looked very well loved. His feathers were faded and missing in several places, and his body was extra lumpy, like the stuffing had shifted around during all the years of hugging.
“All the cool kids sleep with stuffed animals,” Elwin told her. “It’s why I gave Biana Betty-the-Yeti while I treated her injuries from Nightfall—though she insisted on renaming her Lady Sassyfur.” He glanced around the room. “Good. Looks like Biana finally went to session. Vani
shers. I’ve found her hiding in the corner three times today, even though I promised I’d give you her message once you finally woke up.”
“What message?” Sophie asked.
Edaline’s smile was hard to read. The corners said happy news, but the curve said you’re busted.
Which made sense when she told Sophie: “Biana wanted you to know that everyone’s in for your weapon-training program, and—”
“She told you?” Sophie interrupted, hugging Ella tighter and trying to figure out why Biana would do that.
Battle training obviously wasn’t something they’d be able to keep secret—especially now that she couldn’t sneak off anywhere without breaking her promise to Sandor. But she’d been planning to wait until the attack wasn’t so fresh.
Grady and Edaline had come a long way since the day when they’d canceled her adoption because they were too overwhelmed by all of her near-death experiences. But this was still the kind of news that needed to be handled delicately.
“I know it sounds—”
“Hang on,” Edaline interrupted, holding out her hands like stop signs. “Before you try to explain, I want you to know one thing, okay?”
She waited for Sophie to nod.
Then Edaline smiled and told her, “I think battle training’s a good idea. And so does Grady.”
Elwin cracked up. “Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”
“Not really,” Sophie admitted, studying Edaline’s face, looking for any sign that this was a trick. “You’re not going to tell me it’s too violent?”
“I’m not,” Edaline agreed, tracing a finger down Sophie’s cocoon of bandages. “I wish our world was the safe, peaceful place I used to believe it was. But . . . there’s ugliness here. And it’s coming for you and your friends—coming for all of us, really—whether we want it to or not. So you need to protect yourselves any way you possibly can, even if that means crossing a few careful lines. Why do you think I’ve learned to handle certain weapons myself?”
Sophie considered that. “I guess I figured you wanted to be prepared in case one of the animals got out of control in the pastures.”
“That’s part of it,” Edaline agreed, standing up and smoothing her silky tunic. “But I’d never use something like this”—she snapped her fingers and conjured a short, braided whip—“on an animal. Even the gorgodon—though sometimes I’m tempted.”
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