Everblaze

by Shannon Messenger

  “It’s okay to be angry,” Grady said from somewhere in the room. “What the Council has done to you is . . . unspeakable. I resigned my position as Emissary yesterday.”

  “You did?” Sophie asked.

  “Yep. Alden was also ready to resign, but we decided to keep someone on the inside. So he’s staying for now. But that might change.”

  She slid her covers back and opened her eyes, regretting it when blinding light crashed into her brain. She curled up in a ball, rocking through the pain as Grady and Edaline held her as tight as they could.

  “I’m so sorry,” Edaline whispered. “If I could wear the circlet for you, I would.”

  “I’d rather make the Councillors run off a cliff.”

  Grady’s voice was so dark, Sophie believed him. Which was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid when she’d agreed to the horrible circlet in the first place.

  “Please,” she whispered, slowly lifting her heavy head. “Please don’t do anything crazy over me. I’m not worth it.”

  “What?” Grady asked as Edaline pulled her closer again.

  “I’m not worth it,” Sophie repeated, taking a deep breath to give her the strength to say the rest. “I’m . . . a failed experiment, okay? The Black Swan made me to do something—I don’t know what, but it doesn’t matter now because I’ll never be able to do it and the whole thing is a waste. I bet if you asked them they’d say the same thing.”

  “I don’t care what the Black Swan created you for,” Edaline told her. “I don’t care if you dropped out of the sky or floated on the beach in an egg and hatched—you’re still my daughter and I will always love you. No matter what.”

  Fresh tears burned Sophie’s eyes. “You don’t wish you could get rid of me now?”

  “Is that really what you think?” Edaline asked.

  Sophie hung her head, pointing to her circlet. “Who wants a freak in their family?”

  “The freaks are the Councillors who thought this was an acceptable punishment,” Grady growled. “But I promise, Sophie, nothing will ever make us not want you in our family. Nothing.”

  “But I keep ruining your lives!”

  “No—you made our lives worth living again,” Edaline promised. “You are a strong, beautiful, amazing girl, and nothing about this”—she traced a finger across the circlet—“will ever change that. You will still be our daughter, and we will still love you because you—”

  “Remind you of Jolie?” The words stung her tongue and Sophie wished she could drag them back in. Especially when she saw their stunned faces. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Yes, you should,” Grady said, squeezing her shoulders to stop her from turning away. “Sophie, I—we—never meant to compare you to Jolie. Yes, you remind us of her in certain small ways. But only because we love you so, so much. And what we love is you. You know that, right?”

  A sniffle was the only answer Sophie could come up with.

  Edaline brushed a tear off Sophie’s cheek. “Please, Sophie. You have to believe us. We want you. Only you, okay? And that’s never going to change. Never.”

  Sophie swallowed a sob, feeling the knots tangled inside her loosen as she whispered, “You know what I want?”

  “What?” Grady asked.

  “A mom and dad.”

  She said the last words as a test, not sure how they’d feel.

  But they felt right. So right.

  Especially when Grady and Edaline whispered, “That’s what we’re here for.”

  “No matter what,” Edaline added.

  “No matter what,” Sophie repeated.

  She pulled them close, needing to do this right.

  “I love you, Mom,” she whispered. “I love you, Dad.”

  “We love you too,” they both told her, their voices dissolving into sobs.

  Sophie had no idea how long they sat holding one another, or how much time had passed since the night the Council sentenced her. But she was finally ready to face the next day.

  And it was a good thing, because when she showered and dressed and slowly made her way downstairs, Grady and Edaline weren’t alone.

  Sandor was waiting for her.

  So were Fitz and Biana.

  And Keefe.

  Sophie didn’t need to ask why they were there.

  She could see the tiny scrolls in their hands.

  Each sealed with the sign of the swan.

  SIXTY

  GIVEN HER RECENT TROUBLES, SOPHIE would’ve expected her parents to keep her far, far away from the very illegal scrolls that Fitz, Keefe, and Biana were holding. Instead they left them in the living room with mallowmelt and lushberry juice and went upstairs. They did tell Sandor to keep an eye on things. But mostly they seemed relieved to see Sophie doing something normal again.

  Or maybe they knew she was too useless to be involved anyway. . . .

  The Black Swan must’ve thought the same thing. Apparently they’d given Keefe a note within hours of Sophie’s sentencing, instructing him to tell Fitz and Biana about his dad and to wait for a new plan. Replacing one Telepath for another—with a Vanisher as a bonus.

  It was hard not to be bitter.

  Her friends sat on the couch opposite her, looking anywhere except her forehead.

  “You can all stop pretending not to notice it,” Sophie mumbled.

  She’d managed to cover part of the circlet with her hair, but the bands that crossed her forehead, and the flat beige stone that rested between her brows, were impossible to hide—unless she put a bag over her head. Which she was actually considering.

  “Honestly, I think it’s pretty,” Biana said, earning herself an elbow from Fitz. “What? I know it’s a terrible thing. But . . . at least it’s not ugly on top of it. Wouldn’t that be worse?”

  Sophie almost wanted to smile.

  Leave it to Biana to consider the fashion sense of an ability-restricting accessory.

  “Does it hurt?” Fitz asked after a second.

  “Yeah,” Keefe told him, before Sophie could lie. “I can feel it from here. And I gotta say, Sophie. I like Dex. But I kinda want to kick him in his special place.”

  “Me too,” Fitz agreed.

  “Me three,” Sandor added from his post near the front door.

  Sophie sighed.

  She didn’t want to hate Dex. But it was hard when just concentrating on the conversation felt like it was wringing all the energy out of her brain. She’d already shoved the ring he’d made her deep into the bottom of her drawer—along with her iPod, and anything else he’d given her. And as soon as she had a chance, she was dyeing Iggy back to gray.

  Still, Dex wasn’t the only one to blame.

  “It’s my fault too. If I hadn’t tried to read King Dimitar’s mind . . .”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence. And she definitely couldn’t look at Fitz, remembering the way he’d tried to warn her.

  “It’s not your fault,” Fitz promised, leaning closer to her. “The Councillors are being idiots. And if it helps . . . there are lots of people who agree.”

  Sophie snorted. “I’m sure most of the crowd was cheering.”

  “There were some,” Biana admitted. “But mostly everyone was stunned silent.”

  “Dude—even my dad thought it was messed up,” Keefe jumped in. “If that doesn’t say something . . .”

  His words felt like a slap to the cheek and Sophie hung her head, realizing she was pouting about a circlet when Keefe’s whole world was crumbling.

  “How’s everything going?” she asked quietly.

  Keefe shrugged. “My dad doesn’t know I know. My mom’s asked a couple of times if I’m okay, but I’m sure she just thinks I’m worried about you.”

  “I still don’t think you should be staying there,” Fitz said, squeezing the edge of the couch. “What if Lord Cassius figures out that you’re on to him?”

  “Then he’ll see that I’m ready for him.” Keefe pulled back his sleeve to reveal a row of gobl
in throwing stars. The steel in his eyes said he wouldn’t hesitate to use them. But there was a quaver in his voice as he added, “I’m keeping close track of his emotions. If I sense anything weird, I’ll head to Everglen. But until then, we have to stick to the plan.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Fitz mumbled.

  “Me either,” Biana agreed.

  The anger in their tone made Sophie wonder how they’d reacted when Keefe first told them about his dad. After all, they’d known Lord Cassius for years.

  She was almost glad she hadn’t been there.

  “Besides,” Keefe said, clearing his throat and pulling down his sleeve, “it’ll all be over soon anyway. That’s why we’re here—not that we didn’t want to check on you,” he told Sophie.

  “Right,” Biana quickly agreed. “We’ve actually come by every day. Could you hear us? We couldn’t tell.”

  Sophie’s face burned, imagining how ridiculous she probably looked, sulking under her covers. “Sorry. I . . . guess I’m not handling this as well as I should be.”

  “Uh, there is no ‘should be,’” Keefe told her. “I’d be freaking out just as much if it happened to me. Probably more.”

  “Me too,” Biana agreed. “I never could’ve done what you did.”

  “What I did?” Sophie repeated.

  “I hid in Dame Alina’s office—or, I guess it’s Magnate Leto’s office now—when you were with the Councillors,” Biana admitted. “I heard the awful things they said. And I saw how you stopped resisting once they threatened to exile Dex. I don’t think I could’ve ever been that brave.”

  “Me either,” Fitz agreed. “But Sophie’s the bravest person I know. What’s wrong?” he asked as she turned away to blink back tears. “Is the circlet hurting?”

  “No. Well, yeah—it always hurts,” Sophie admitted, drying her eyes with her sleeve. “But . . . I’m not brave. I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for—how many days has it been?

  “Three,” Keefe admitted.

  “Three days,” she mumbled miserably. “So much time wasted. I just . . . I thought no one would want anything to do with me now.”

  “Why?” they all asked in unison.

  She waved her hands around her head, like that explained everything.

  Keefe laughed. “You worry about the craziest things, Foster.”

  “But I’m basically the Council’s number one enemy!” she argued.

  “So?” Biana asked.

  “Yeah, that actually ups your Cool Points,” Keefe added.

  “And you know what the Council’s doing, right?” Fitz asked. “People were judging them for not having frissyn ready to stop the Everblaze, and for not making the healing safe enough in the first place, and for not catching even one rebel in all these weeks. So they made you the scapegoat to take the attention off themselves.”

  “Besides, Foster,” Keefe said, waiting for her to look at him, “when are you going to realize that you could wrap yourself in neon green feathers and start walking around roaring like a dinosaur, and we’d still hang out with you? Shoot—I’d join in.”

  “I would too,” Fitz agreed.

  “Me too—though I’d want pink feathers,” Biana decided.

  This time Sophie couldn’t help smiling, and somehow it made her head hurt a little less. Enough that she finally felt ready to ask, “So, how much longer are we going to pretend you’re not holding scrolls from the Black Swan?”

  “We’re not pretending,” Fitz said after a second. “We just didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Because the Black Swan’s plan doesn’t include me.”

  “Actually, they sent us to you.” Keefe moved to the empty seat next to her and unrolled his scroll—which contained the longest message the Black Swan had ever used.

  In order to guard those who must be protected,

  Our plan has changed and been perfected.

  A team of three will unite for the trip,

  To the Head of the Sky, on the northern tip.

  A cave of horrors will set the stage,

  Where green boots rest, and never age.

  Further plans will await your arrival,

  Destroying this note will ensure your survival.

  Seek the moonlark to set you on your way,

  Then find us at sunrise on the third day.

  “Sunrise on the third day?” Sophie asked. “That was today.”

  “No. They gave these to us this morning. They were hidden in our lockers at Foxfire.”

  “Foxfire?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been missing school. Not that it mattered. Her ability sessions would all have to be replaced, and those were the only subjects she’d been doing well in.

  “So you’re the moonlark, right?” Keefe asked, like he could feel her mood plummeting. “That’s what that line means?”

  “I think so,” she mumbled.

  “Good, because that’s pretty much the only thing we could translate,” Biana admitted.

  “And we aren’t fans of that ‘cave of horrors’ line,” Fitz added.

  “Yeah, please tell me that’s a joke or something, Foster. ’Cause I already did a cave of horrors thing with you a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t awesome.”

  “I’m sure they mean a different cave. But . . . I’ve never heard of the Head of the Sky or green boots or . . .”

  Her voice trailed off as a hazy memory filled her mind—a lecture from one of her old high school science teachers, back when she was living with humans.

  “Actually,” she said, rereading the note again, “I think they mean Mount Everest. The Head of the Sky is another name humans use for it sometimes—and the Sanctuary’s built into the Himalayas, right? So if Silveny’s the ruse, it would make sense that the Black Swan would choose there. The northeast ridge has a cave where a climber in green boots froze to death. They call it Green Boots Cave because the body’s still there, preserved in the ice.”

  “Ewwwww—why haven’t the humans taken the body away?” Biana asked.

  “Because it’s way up in the dead zone of the mountain, where the conditions are too treacherous to move it. I remember my teacher telling me there’s, like, hundreds of bodies scattered all over Mount Everest.”

  “That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Fitz said quietly. “Why would the Black Swan pick there?”

  “Maybe they wanted to creep the Neverseen out,” Keefe suggested. “And if so, I’m pretty sure it’ll be mission accomplished!”

  “But how are you supposed to get there?” Sophie asked. “You can’t teleport”—though she realized with a pang that she couldn’t teleport any more either—“and you can’t walk from the entrance to the Sanctuary in less than three days. Even if you could, you’d need a team of Sherpas, and oxygen tanks, and years of training. Climbing Everest is one of the most dangerous things humans do.”

  “Then why do they do it?” Biana asked.

  Sophie had asked her teacher the same thing. And he’d given her the same answer she gave them. “To see if they can.”

  Biana crinkled her nose. “Humans are weird.”

  “Maybe,” Fitz agreed, “but you gotta admire the bravery it takes to look at a massive mountain, knowing how deadly it is, and think, You know what? I’m going to climb anyway!”

  “Sounds a bit like our Foster, doesn’t it?” Keefe asked. “Maybe that’s why she’s set a new record for near-death experiences.”

  “Not anymore,” Sophie mumbled.

  Now she was just the message translator, sitting in her cushy house while her friends risked their lives for her. “You guys shouldn’t do this. It’s crazy.”

  “But it’s smart, too,” Fitz argued. “Think about it. If it’s that dangerous for us—and we have time to prepare—how much worse will it be for the Neverseen when they show up and find themselves at the top of a deadly mountain. I bet that’s another reason the Black Swan picked it.”

  “And my note came with this,” Biana added, holdi
ng out a tiny black swan charm.

  Sophie looked away, wishing she didn’t feel so replaced.

  But that used to be her charm.

  “That still won’t get you there,” she said after a second. “Not without some sort of special light or something.”

  “Yeah, but they’ll probably give it to us that day, just like they did last time,” Keefe reminded her.

  “Better hope they give you oxygen, too. You won’t survive up there without it. And none of your clothes will be warm enough. And even then, you’ll still have to deal with the Neverseen—and trap or no, they will fight back . . .”

  Her voice trailed off when she realized she was technically talking about Keefe’s dad.

  Keefe patted his sleeve full of weapons again, his face as white as bone. “I have to stop him from hurting anyone again. Fitz and Biana don’t have to, but—”

  “We’re going with you,” Biana insisted.

  “Yeah, you’re not doing this alone,” Fitz agreed.

  Sophie sighed. “Did the Black Swan have you tell your dad that they’re going instead of me?”

  “I told him Fitz is coming to handle your telepathic stuff with Silveny. But he doesn’t know Biana will be there—and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

  “I’m the secret weapon,” Biana said, vanishing again to prove it.

  Sophie stared out the windows, watching the sun creep toward the horizon. “It’s really hard to sit back and let you guys risk your lives for this.”

  “Tell me about it,” Grady called from the top of the stairs, making everyone jump. “Did you really think I wasn’t listening up here?”

  “I did,” Keefe admitted as Grady came down to join them. “Please—you can’t tell anyone about my dad. If he finds out—”

  “I know,” Grady interrupted, holding out a hand to calm him. “But before I agree, I have to ask—are you sure he’s with the Neverseen?”

  “Yeah,” Keefe mumbled, squeezing his Sencen crest pin.