“Had you had any limbium when it happened?” Elwin asked.
“I’d never heard of it before Dex told me about it. Humans don’t have stuff like that.”
“Then what caused it last time?”
“The doctors ran a ton of tests, but they never figured it out. So they just injected me with a bunch of medicines and steroids and told me to be more careful.” She shivered at the memory of the needles.
Elwin stroked his chin. “I honestly can’t do much better. The best I can say is to stay away from limbium and wear this all the time.” He handed her a tiny black bottle hanging from a cord. “If anything like that ever happens again, drink that immediately and find me.”
“I will.” She tied the cord around her neck. “Can I go to PE now?”
“Are you crazy?” Elwin asked. “I’m taking you home to rest—don’t even think about arguing.”
She could tell he wouldn’t budge, so she slid out of bed, wobbling as the blood rushed to her head. Fitz caught and steadied her.
She blushed in his arms. “Thanks.”
“You shouldn’t be on your feet yet,” Elwin scolded, grabbing her arm and wrapping it across his wide shoulders to support her. “You guys should get to session. Well, Fitz might want to hit the showers first.”
Dex snickered and Sophie hung her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Fitz smiled. “Forget it, okay?”
“I will if you will.”
“Deal.” Then Elwin stepped into the light and the warmth pulled them away.
“ELWIN?” GRADY CALLED, DROPPING EVERYTHING when he saw them. He raced over with Edaline hot on his heels. “What’s going on?”
“I brought Sophie home to rest. She had a bit of a crisis.”
“Crisis?” Edaline sounded panicked as she ushered everyone inside, and Elwin led Sophie to the couch. “What happened?”
Sophie hid her face as Elwin gave them the full story, but she peeked through her fingers when Grady and Edaline gasped over Bullhorn screaming.
They both looked deathly pale.
“Did Bullhorn lay down beside her?” Grady asked. His voice sounded hollow. Banshees only did that when someone was on their final breaths.
“Yes,” Elwin admitted quietly. “At first he was just screaming, but then he got quiet and curled up against her chest—nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“So . . . she almost died,” Edaline whispered. Her eyes darted to Sophie, and widened. “You almost died!”
Sophie couldn’t quite hide her shiver.
Grady cleared his throat and squeezed Edaline’s hand. “She’s okay now, right?”
“She should be. She’s tough. How else could she survive so many disasters?”
Grady and Edaline didn’t smile.
“She looks so pale,” Edaline whispered. She reached for Sophie but retracted her hand before actually touching her.
“She just needs to rest. She’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”
“I’m already back to normal,” Sophie said, hating how worried Grady and Edaline looked.
“But what if this happens again?” Edaline asked.
“It won’t,” Sophie promised.
“Is that true?” Grady asked Elwin.
“I’ll have to do some research. In the meantime, I gave her an emergency solution to keep with her. Let’s hope she won’t need it, and that it works if she does.”
They both nodded blankly.
Elwin squeezed Edaline’s arm. “She’s fine now. Once she rests and has something to eat she’ll be back to her old self.”
“I am back to my old self,” Sophie insisted.
Edaline nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
“Well,” Grady said, turning to Elwin. “We should let you get back to work. Thank you for all you did to save her.”
“Just doing my job. Besides, Sophie’s my best patient.” He gave Sophie a small smile. “Just make your next crisis less dramatic, okay?”
“Maybe this is my last catastrophe,” she mumbled.
Elwin laughed. “You? Never.”
Grady’s lips tightened and Edaline looked at the floor. Clearly, they agreed with Elwin. Except they didn’t seem to think it was funny.
GRADY HELPED HER UP THE stairs and Edaline brought her a bowl of brothy soup in bed, but their minds seemed to be elsewhere. When Sophie finished eating, Edaline clapped twice and the shades plunged the room into darkness. The shadowy light made them both look worn and haggard.
“Are you okay?” Sophie asked.
“We’re worried about you,” Edaline whispered, her eyes on the floor.
Sophie opened her mouth, searching for a way to convince them that she really was okay, but her soft bed and the comforting darkness turned it into a yawn.
“Get some sleep,” Grady said as he tucked her in for the first time since she’d moved in.
Maybe it was the way he wrapped the blankets extra snug. Or maybe it was Edaline handing her Ella. Or maybe it was almost dying. Whatever it was, she snuggled into her pillow feeling so much like family she couldn’t help whispering, “I love you guys,” into the silence.
But her exhausted body fell asleep before she heard their answer.
THIRTY-SIX
A HIGH-PITCHED SCREECH—LIKE TIRES squealing across pavement mixed with hun- dreds of shrieking girls—jolted Sophie out of her dreams. She threw on work clothes and rushed outside to see if Grady and Edaline needed her help.
It was still dark, but once her eyes adjusted Sophie could see an eagle-size golden pterodactyl trying to escape the leash Grady held. It somersaulted in the sky, dragging Grady like dead weight, while Edaline and the gnomes tried to calm the nearby animals.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!
Sophie covered her ears. “How can I help?” she shouted to Grady.
“You shouldn’t be up. Go back to bed, Sophie. We don’t need any help.” Grady wrapped the leash around his legs for extra stability and then yanked the cord, trying to rein the creature in. The beast fought back, using speed and momentum to pull Grady over as it gained headway.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!
Kinda looked like he needed help. . . .
Sophie stared at the pterodactyl, trying to figure out what to do. Two enormous golden eyes locked with hers, and as she held its gaze an image filled her mind.
Fire.
Sophie wasn’t sure how, but she knew what to do. She raced for the shed, grabbed the alchemy torch Edaline used when she made solutions for the animals, and raced back outside. A pile of dried umber leaves sat in the middle of the pasture, waiting to be dispersed to the animals for breakfast. Sophie ran straight for it and lit the mound before she could change her mind.
“What are you doing?” Edaline screamed as Sophie jumped back from the enormous blue flames that smelled uncannily like fried chicken. “Someone get some quicksnuff.”
“Just wait a second,” Sophie said, pointing to the pterodactyl, which had quieted down. “I know what I’m doing.” She really hoped that was true.
The creature circled once, then dived nose first into the blaze. Sophie couldn’t help shrieking as the fire engulfed its golden body, but the pterodactyl flapped its wings in the flames like a bird in a birdbath. Sophie had to back away to avoid the flying sparks.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Edaline demanded, jerking Sophie farther away from the fire. “What would possess you to do that?”
“It was cold.” Sophie pointed to the pterodactyl, still playing in the flames.
“Cold?” Grady asked, joining them. He was covered in bits of grass and mud.
“Yeah,” Sophie told him. “She needed fire.”
Grady stared at Sophie, then at the creature. “I think you’re right. I bet this is a flareadon. They have fire-resistant f
ur—and they have to be around flames or they’ll freeze to death. It’s why they’re so rare. But how did you know that?”
“I’m not sure, but I think . . .” She tried to replay the moment. It wasn’t a triggered memory—she’d been worried about that at first. It was more like . . .
“I think I read its mind. Is that possible?”
Grady ran his hand across his face. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anyone reading an animal’s mind before.”
“Who cares?” Edaline interrupted, her voice an octave higher than normal. “You could’ve been burned! You could’ve been killed! And you’re supposed to be in bed, resting from your last brush with death!”
Sophie backed a step away from the wild-eyed Edaline. “I was just trying to help.”
“We don’t need your help, Sophie. We need you inside—where it’s safe. Now go!” She pointed to the house.
Sophie glanced at Grady, hoping he’d defend her—she did solve the problem, after all. But Grady was too busy holding a trembling Edaline. That’s when it hit her.
Fire.
Death.
Jolie.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” Sophie stammered, not sure what to say. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s fine,” Grady said, as much to Edaline as to Sophie. He turned to Sophie. “Go back inside and rest. We’ll talk in the morning.” He sounded calm and quiet. But something in his expression warned her not to push.
“Okay,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes. “I guess I’ll see you when I wake up.”
Neither of them said anything as she walked back to the house. No good night. Certainly no hugs. And when she turned back to wave, they’d already turned away.
THINGS WEREN’T MUCH BETTER AT breakfast the next morning. Grady and Edaline’s smiles looked forced, and neither had much to say.
“So where did the flareadon come from?” Sophie asked, trying to fill the silence.
“She flew into our pasture, screeching her head off, and we scrambled to calm her down,” Grady answered. “That’s when you found us. It’s strange. Flareadons live near volcanoes—that’s why it didn’t occur to me to use fire. Gildie strayed a long way from home.”
“Gildie?”
“We were up late with her, calming her down, and it felt silly calling her ‘flareadon.’ So when we figured out it was a female, Edaline named her Gildie.”
“It’s a good name.”
Edaline gave a forced smile, and looked away.
“You really think you read her mind?” Grady asked.
“How would I have known about the fire? I think I might go practice with Gildie for a few minutes before school.”
“Absolutely not,” Edaline snapped, instantly on her feet. “You’re staying home to rest. And you’re not to go anywhere near those animals. Is that understood?”
“But I’m fine now. And I always help you guys outside.”
“Well, that was a mistake on our part—one I’m correcting now. I don’t want you outside in the pastures anymore.”
Grady wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Is this about last night?” Sophie whispered.
“It’s about a lot of things. We haven’t been looking out for your safety, and I’m trying to correct that.” Edaline sighed. “Why don’t you go study? Finals are less than a month away.”
Unfortunately, Edaline was right.
Sophie spent the rest of the weekend trying to wade through the horrible firecatching book Sir Conley had assigned her to read the day of the Quintessence debacle. She had a feeling firecatching would be on the final exam. But it was so dry, she kept taking breaks to experiment with Iggy.
Most of the time she couldn’t decipher what he was thinking, but she suspected it was because Iggy didn’t think before he acted. Like when he wrestled with one of her socks and rolled off the bed, or shredded her homework for no apparent reason. But other times she did wonder if she could feel his thoughts. It was more of a vague emotion than a concrete thought—which actually made sense. Human thoughts felt different from elvin thoughts. Maybe each creature’s mind was different. She’d have to ask Tiergan to know for sure.
“IF ANYONE ELSE TOLD ME that, I would question their sanity.” Tiergan chuckled. “But with you, I’m learning anything is possible.”
Sophie blushed. “You’ve really never heard of anyone reading animals’ minds?”
“No. I’ve also never heard of anyone transmitting across impossible distances, or having an impenetrable mind, or tracking exact locations, so I can’t say I’m surprised. In fact, I wonder . . . Do you think you could transmit to an animal? Or track them?”
“I guess I could try.”
His face lit up. “Yes—you must. And if you can, I think that would qualify as passing your final exam.”
“You’d pass me—just like that?”
“Sophie, you have the greatest telepathic abilities I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure I’m qualified to test you. Even if you can’t do this, I’ll find some other excuse to pass you. It’d be wrong not to.”
Her heart lightened at his words. One exam down. Seven more to go. “I’ll work on it tonight and let you know on Thursday.”
“I look forward to hearing your results.”
SOPHIE DECIDED TO PRACTICE WITH a different animal, so she chose their resident T. rex. Verdi’s thoughts were more defined than Iggy’s but less intense than Gildie’s, and when she sent Verdi an image of her right paw over and over, Verdi finally got the hint and raised it. Then Verdi’s thoughts told her she wanted a tummy rub as a reward. Sophie giggled and rubbed the soft, downy feathers. She could transmit thoughts to animals—how awesome was that?
“What are you doing out here?”
Sophie spun around, backing up a step when she saw the fury in Edaline’s eyes. “I’m reading Verdi’s mind for homework. I think she wants to eat the verminion, so you might want to keep her away from him.”
She waited for Edaline to laugh—or at least smile. Instead her eyes narrowed. “I thought I made it clear that you’re not supposed to be outside.”
Sophie kept waiting for things to go back to normal after the allergy incident, but it’d been four days and Edaline was getting worse. “I have to be allowed outside sometime.”
“If I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it,” Edaline snapped.
“But I’m fine. You have to stop acting like everything could kill me!”
Edaline paled. She looked anywhere but Sophie. “You’re right. I’m worrying too much.”
“I promise I’ll be careful,” Sophie said, desperate for something that might erase the pain in Edaline’s features. “You don’t have to worry.”
Edaline was quiet for a long time before she shook her head. “Yes. I do.” Then she turned and went inside without another word.
EDALINE DIDN’T JOIN THEM FOR dinner. Sophie tried to ask Grady about it—tried to apologize—but he just told her not to worry and stared out the window.
Loud pounding on the front door broke the silence between them.
Sophie answered the door and an out-of-breath Alden raced in. The smell of smoke and fire trailed around him like an aura.
Grady leaped to his feet. “What happened?”
“There’s been a development.” Alden glanced at Sophie before turning to Grady. “I need your help.”
Their eyes held for at least a minute before Grady stepped back, recoiling like he’d been struck. It took Sophie a second to realize Alden had transmitted a message.
Grady leaned on the table, panting breaths shaking his chest as he ran his hands through his hair. “I . . . can’t,” he whispered.
“You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t imperative.”
Grady shook his head. “I’m sorry. Ask the others.”
“You’re the only one I trust.�
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Sophie held her breath, watching Grady. Alden’s face looked desperate, and if he was worried, it had to be vital.
Grady sank into a chair looking thirty years older. He hid his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Alden closed his eyes. Listening to Grady’s thoughts? Transmitting another plea? Not since the cheating incident had Sophie been so tempted to violate the ethics of telepathy and find out what was going on. But if Alden somehow caught her, Bronte could use it to have her exiled.
Would he catch her?
She could probably sneak in without him knowing, but what would she do with the information? If she said or did anything about it, he’d know how she found out.
It wasn’t worth the risk.
Alden let out a full body sigh. “I’ll have to find another way then. Excuse me.” He nodded to Sophie as he turned to leave.
“Wait.” It took her a second to realize the voice was hers. She cleared her throat as Alden faced her. “What’s going on?”
Alden opened his mouth, but Grady cut him off.
“Go to bed, Sophie!”
“But—”
“Go to bed now!”
She’d never heard Grady so angry. Even Alden took a step back. She blinked—her eyes burning with hurt and humiliation—and fled to her room.
GRADY AND EDALINE WEREN’T HOME when Sophie came down for breakfast. They left a note on the table for her: “Gone out.”
No “good morning.” No “love, Grady and Edaline.” She tried not to let it bother her . . . but it did.
They were still gone when she got home from school.
As much as she wanted to practice telepathy with Verdi or Gildie, she stayed inside and studied. She was determined to do what she could to cooperate.
At sunset the gnomes shared some of their dinner and she ate alone in her room, wondering if she should worry. When the stars came out, she decided it was time to call Alden. Before she could, the front door slammed.
She raced down the hall, freezing when she heard hushed conversation. She peered over the railing, catching a partial view of Grady and Edaline.
“It was the right decision,” Grady told Edaline, sweeping the hair off her face as he pulled her closer. Muffled sobs drifted up the stairs. “It’s best for everyone. Alden will find someone else.”
Keeper of the Lost Cities Page 24