Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (11 page)

“What does that even mean?” Sophie was shouting now, but she didn’t care if anyone heard her. Not that it made a difference.

“I’m sorry,” Vertina told her, and it almost seemed like she meant it. “I can’t say anything else. I’ve probably already said too much.”

She blinked away with a faint click.

Sophie stared at the empty glass, not sure what surprised her more, that Vertina could turn herself off, or that Vertina really was hiding an important secret.

There had to be some sort of password—or maybe something she was supposed to show Vertina—in order to get her to share. Sophie tried to figure out what it would be as she searched the huge ebony armoire in her bathroom for a salve to treat her wrist. Edaline had bought Blister Blast and Scratches ’n Splits and Abrasion Persuasion. But Sophie grabbed the Bruise Cruse, hoping it wasn’t made with any sort of animal pee as she smeared the yellowish sludge over her wound.

The cream felt prickly as it sank in, like she was rubbing her skin with a burr. And the longer it set, the hotter the zings grew until Sophie finally gave in and scrubbed her arm with soap and cold water.

“How’s the wound?” Sandor asked, making her jump so hard she splashed herself.

“Sorry,” he said, handing her one of the feather-soft towels. “I thought you heard me come in.”

“Actually you walk pretty quiet, despite your giant goblin feet.”

“I don’t have giant goblin feet.”

She moved her foot next to his, which looked like a lizard next to a dinosaur.

“Okay, maybe I do,” Sandor conceded. “Let me see your wrist.”

Sophie reluctantly held out her hand, revealing the angry welt. “I must’ve used the wrong ointment—but I’ll try a different one in a few minutes. I just want to let my skin calm down.”

“If it’s not better in the morning—”

“I know, I know. So what’d you find in the cave?”

Sandor reached into his pocket, removing a clear glass vial with a note curled inside. The sign of the swan—a black curve like a swan’s neck—had been pressed into a wax seal on the stopper.

“I waited for you to open it,” he said as she grabbed the vial and pried at the seal.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she removed the crystal stopper. She’d gotten dozens of notes from the Black Swan before, but this one felt bigger.

This time, they were responding to
her
.

But her excitement quickly faded as she read their carefully written message:

Your request is denied, for your own protection.

FOURTEEN

D
UDE, WHAT IS UP WITH
them not rhyming?” Keefe asked, holding up the note like he expected to find a secret message scratched into the paper.

Sophie had done the same thing—and searched the empty bottle for clues, and checked the cave to make sure Sandor hadn’t missed anything. But of course the only thing the Black Swan had given her was the incredibly unhelpful message. Which meant her best option in the What Do I Do Now? category involved getting to Foxfire early the next day and ambushing Keefe on his way to morning orientation—though she was already regretting the decision.

Especially when Keefe tossed the note back to her and said, “Okay, I figured out our reply. Write this down, Gigantor:
You may not want to meet, but we definitely do. Name a time and a place or we’ll pelt you with sparkly poo
.”

Sophie was too angry to laugh.

After all the times she’d risked her life to help the Black Swan. All the times she’d blindly followed their vague instructions. When it was finally her turn to go to them for help—to protect
Silveny
, no less—they’d cast her aside with a single, poorly written sentence.

“Hey, don’t go,” Keefe said, grabbing her wrist to stop her.

Sophie flinched.

The other bruise ointment she’d tried had bleached most of the wound’s reddish color, but her skin still felt raw and tingly, and throbbed every time she bumped it.

“I’m fine,” she said under her breath, hoping Keefe would drop it and that Sandor hadn’t noticed. She wasn’t in the mood for another Elwin visit.

Keefe narrowed his eyes. But all he said was, “I know the Black Swan are being super jerky. But that means you need to get tougher. Make your next note a demand. Remember, you’re Sophie Foster—Mysterious Girl Extraordinaire!”

He pumped his fist, making most of the prodigies around them turn to stare.

“I mean it,” he added a bit quieter. “The Black Swan needs you
way
more than you need them. You’re the one holding all the cards.”

Even if that were true, she had no idea how to play the game. Her one move had been leaving them a note, and they’d tossed it back in her face.

“How is refusing to meet with me for my
protection
?” she asked as they walked along the winding path toward the main Foxfire building. “I mean, if they want to keep me safe, shouldn’t they find out what I know?”

“Maybe they already know what you know,” Keefe suggested. “Or maybe they don’t trust themselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the rebels
did
find their hideout somehow. And we had to fly across the ocean on an alicorn, so I’m pretty sure no one followed us.”

She stopped walking. “Are you saying you think the Black Swan has a leak?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’re worried they do, and that’s why they think it’s safer not to meet with you right now.”

“That . . . actually makes sense.”

“Of course it does. I’m a genius. That’s why you keep me around. Well, that and my stunning good looks.”

He rumpled his hair and gave her his most confident smirk, but Sophie was too distracted to reply.

What if the Black Swan
did
have a leak?

Ten thousand questions swamped into her head, but the crowd had grown too thick for Sophie to say anything further. They’d reached the six-towered, six-colored, U-shaped main building, and everyone was funneling into the five-story glass pyramid in the center of the courtyard. Orientation was held every morning on the ground floor, and as they made their way inside, Sophie expected Keefe to join his fellow Level Fives in their fiery red uniforms. But he followed her over to the cluster of amber brown Level Threes, instead.

“Are you guys leaping to school together now?” Dex asked as they joined him.

“Ha—Foster wishes,” Keefe jumped in, before Sophie could say anything. “I was just walking with her because, well, Gigantor misses me.”

He wrapped an arm around Sandor, and Sandor shoved him away. “I’ll be waiting over there,” he said, glaring at Keefe before he stalked to his usual spot in the corner.

“What were you guys really doing?” Dex asked as soon as Sandor was gone. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ I’m not an idiot.”

“But we
were
doing nothing. I just had to ask Keefe something. About . . . Silveny.”

It was sort of the truth, but Dex clearly didn’t buy it.

“Oh—Iggy looks awesome,” she added, changing the subject to something safer.

“Really?” Dex’s cheeks dimpled with his smile. “Thanks. I had a super hard time deciding between the orange dreads or green spikes.”

“Dude, can I have the green-spiky elixir?” Keefe asked. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do to Dame Alina next.”

Sophie shook her head at him. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Not as long as I have you. Fix me, Foster. You’re my only hope.”

Sophie knew he was teasing, but her cheeks still felt hot—and when she glanced at Dex, she could tell he’d noticed.

“So,” she said, trying to fill the awkward silence, “what have you been—”

“Boo!” Biana shouted, appearing out of thin air between them. She giggled as they all jumped back. “You guys should see your faces. Being a Vanisher is going to be
awesome
!”

She vanished again as Fitz made his way over to their group—another fiery red uniform among the golden brown. “Can you believe she’s still at it? There’s no way I was this annoying when I manifested.”

“Wanna bet?” Dex mumbled.

Sophie elbowed him.

“No, Dex is right,” Keefe said, smirking at Fitz. “Not only did I have him
constantly
begging to read my mind, but I had to keep hearing, ‘I’m the youngest Telepath to ever manifest!’”

His impersonation of Fitz’s precise accent was pretty dead-on.

“If only we’d known Foster had you beat by, like, eight years, we could’ve shut you up much sooner,” Keefe added, earning himself a huge grin from Dex. “And wait—isn’t Biana younger than you were?”

“Only by a few weeks,” Fitz corrected. “Plus, telepathy is a rarer ability.”

“Yeah, well, vanishing’s cooler,” Biana told him, disappearing again.

“Whoa,” Jensi whispered, his eyes as round as his head as he and Marella joined them. “Biana manifested?”

His mouth fell open as Biana reappeared.

“That is the coolest thing ever! Did you manifest this weekend—and did it hurt? My brother said it hurt—he said he felt kind of achy all day before he manifested—and then his foot sank into the floor and he realized he was a Phaser and was like, ‘oh, that’s why!’—was it like that for you?”

Once Jensi started his rapid-fire questions, there was no stopping him, though Sophie was surprised at how quiet Marella was being. Usually Marella was the biggest gossip in the group, dominating their conversations with a surprisingly loud voice for someone so tiny.

“You okay?” Sophie asked, noticing Marella’s uniform looked more wrinkled than usual. Her blond hair also wasn’t twisted into any braids.

“Oh, um, yeah. I’m just tired. I overslept and—”

An intricate peal of chimes cut her off, and Dame Alina’s projection appeared across the far wall of the pyramid.

“Good morning, prodigies!” she said, fluffing her caramel-colored hair and flashing a gleaming smile. “Welcome to a new week at Foxfire!”

Sophie only half listened as Dame Alina rattled off a lecture about Foxfire being a noble school and how they all needed to act like they were aware of the privilege they’d been given by attending. But she was forced to pay attention when Dame Alina declared that she had a special announcement to make.

“As some of you may already know, we’ve had our first prodigies manifest abilities this year. So would everyone please join me in congratulating our new Vanisher, Biana Vacker, and our new Technopath, Dex Dizznee!”

Spotlights flashed on both Dex and Biana and the room erupted into cheers.

As soon as the lights dimmed, Dex spun to face Keefe. “Did you tell Dame Alina about me?”

Keefe laughed. “Dude, I
never
talk to Dame Alina if I don’t have to.”

“Well maybe you had to,” Dex pressed. “To get out of detention or something.”

“Nope. I have detention for the rest of the month—you can check.”

“Then was it you?” Dex asked, turning to Sophie.

“Do you really think I would do that?” She could hear the hurt in her voice, but she couldn’t believe Dex would ask.

Dex’s eyes dropped to his feet. “I don’t know. Who else would it be?”

“I have no idea,” Sophie admitted. “But I also don’t think this is a bad thing. I mean, look around you.”

“Exactly,” Keefe jumped in, pointing to the crowd of whispering prodigies. “Everyone’s talking about how cool you are!”

“No, they’re saying Biana’s cool. For me they’re probably saying, ‘Of course Dex got a lame ability.’”

“Nobody thinks it’s lame,” Sophie promised.

“How would you know? Are you reading their minds?”

“I could.” Though she wasn’t allowed to. According to the rules of telepathy, she wasn’t supposed to read anyone’s mind unless they gave her permission first.

Dex turned back to Keefe. “And you’re sure you didn’t tell
anyone
?”

“Uh, no offense, but if I’m going to brag about someone, I’ll brag about me. Or Foster. But usually me.”

Dex didn’t look convinced. But he didn’t say anything else as he turned and walked away.

Sophie waited until he’d disappeared into the crowd before she asked Keefe, “It wasn’t you, right?”

He clutched his heart, pretending to be wounded.

“I wonder who it was, then. No one besides us . . .” Sophie’s voice trailed off as she thought of someone else who knew.

Someone who was always watching.

Someone who might have a
leak
.

But . . . why would the Black Swan—or their leak—tell anyone about Dex’s secret ability?

“Hey,” Keefe said, waving his hand in front her eyes. “Don’t let Dex get to you. He’ll be over this by the end of the day.”

She doubted that—Dex could hold a major grudge. But she nodded as she turned to follow the other prodigies out of the pyramid.

Keefe stayed beside her as Sandor led them through the main building. The crystal walls of each wing matched the color of the corresponding grade level’s uniform, and when they reached the amber brown Level Three wing, Sophie turned to head toward her locker.

“Wait,” Keefe said, jumping in front of her. “You should ditch with me. I mean, do you really want to suffer through elvin history?”

“Miss Foster will be going to her session,” Sandor told him before Sophie could reply.

“Aw, come on. You can ditch with us too!”

Sandor cracked his knuckles ominously.

“You know you don’t want to listen to two hours on the Troll Emancipation Act,” Keefe told him.

“It’s on the Elvin-Ogre Treaty, actually,” Sophie corrected. “Which will probably be useful, considering everything happening.”

Keefe’s brows shot up, and she realized she hadn’t told him about the tracker being made by ogres yet. But she didn’t have time to get into it right then.

“Fine,” Keefe said as she opened her locker and grabbed her history book. “Go be the model prodigy. But I’m coming over after school and you’ll tell me whatever you’re hiding. And then we’ll come up with our epic
We are the cool, powerful ones, not you!
reply to the Black Swan and whip those dudes into shape. Deal?”

Sophie nodded so he’d be quiet, but she definitely wasn’t agreeing.

She couldn’t send the Black Swan any notes—and she realized with a start that she couldn’t trust their notes anymore either.