Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (12 page)

“Of course. I told them everything—but it was back when they were still deluding themselves into believing that the Black Swan didn’t exist. And murder wasn’t something that happened in our world. Alden did what he could to help me investigate, but the Black Swan had covered their tracks well—they’re good at skulking in the shadows like cowards! And without proof, the Council treated me like I was some raving madman, broken by the loss of my daughter. Told me to ‘let the lost stay at peace.’ To ‘look forward, not back.’ To ‘focus on what matters.’
My daughter matters!
”

He swung to punch the window again, but Edaline grabbed his arm. “Please, Grady,” she whispered. “Enough.”

His arms shook as he fought for control. Then he unclenched his fists and his whole body seemed to droop.

“So that’s why you left your job with the Council,” Sophie said as Edaline led him back to the table.

Grady sank into a chair and Edaline crouched beside him, examining his knuckles. “If they wouldn’t help me, why should I help them? Besides, I wanted no part of such a blind, incompetent organization—and I want even less to do with them now. I want nothing to do with anyone connected to the Black Swan.”

“Grady,” Edaline warned as Sophie clutched her stomach like she’d been punched.

She would always be connected to the Black Swan.

Always.

“Sophie,” Grady called as she turned and ran. But she couldn’t stop, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except race upstairs, shut herself in her bedroom, and collapse on the bed.

If Grady was right—if the Black Swan did what he’d said . . .

She heard Edaline’s quiet knock, but she couldn’t make herself answer.

Edaline came in anyway and wrapped her in a hug. “Grady didn’t mean
you
, Sophie.” She rubbed Sophie’s back, tracing slow, gentle circles. “He loses himself sometimes. Lets the anger take control. I used to try to make him put those feelings behind him, just like he’d try to help me stop holding on to some part of her like it could bring her back. But it’s different from that. He
has
to stay angry. If he doesn’t blame
them,
he might start to blame himself, and if he did . . .”

She didn’t finish, but Sophie knew. She remembered what Grady had told her about Brant’s parents.

About
guilt
.

“So you don’t think Grady’s right?” Sophie whispered.

She couldn’t breathe as she waited for Edaline’s answer, and her lungs were burning by the time Edaline squeezed her hand and said, “I don’t know what to believe. But I do know it has nothing to do with you.”

“But the Black Swan
made
me.”

“Who
they
are has nothing to do with who
you
are. Grady and I have known that from the moment Alden asked us to take you in. Don’t you ever let anything make you think otherwise.”

Sophie wanted to believe that—more than anything. And maybe it would be true if she were normal.

But she wasn’t normal.

She was the Black Swan’s “creation.” They’d twisted and tweaked her DNA, designing her specifically for
something
.

And if the Black Swan were murderers . . .

“Please try to let this go, Sophie. Grady’s just having a hard day. In fact, why don’t you go do something fun to take your mind off things? Where’s Dex today?”

“He has to help his dad at the store.”

“Well, then why don’t you go visit him there? I’m sure Kesler would let him take a break. Or you could stay there and put your fabulous alchemy skills to use. Maybe you’ll be the one to finally burn down that ugly store.”

Sophie couldn’t help smiling—though sadly, given her general patheticness when it came to alchemy, there was a very good chance she really would start a fire. She’d almost burned down Foxfire several times.

And Edaline did have a good idea about visiting Dex—but not for the reason she was saying. Sophie couldn’t let this go. She needed to know the truth about the Black Swan. And Dex was the only other person who’d met one of them.

It was time for her and Dex to have the conversation they’d been carefully avoiding. Whether they were ready for it or not.

Y
OU’D THINK THEY’D NEVER SEEN
a goblin before,” Sophie muttered to Sandor as the crowds of pedestrians gawked at them.

Mysterium was a working-class city, packed with elves in simple tunics and pants making their way down the narrow sidewalks to the vendor carts or to plain, identical buildings. Sandor—with his giant body and giant muscles and giant sword—might as well have been wrapped in neon lights.

“I hate to break it to you, Miss Foster, but they’re not staring at me.”

Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she realized Sandor was right.

She was used to getting stares and whispers. In fact, the first time she’d come to Mysterium, she and Edaline had created quite the spectacle, between their noble gowns and Edaline’s antisocial reputation.

But this time there was fear in their eyes.

“That’s the girl who was taken,” someone whispered.

Words like “trouble” and “menace” quickly followed.

A mother even grabbed her children’s arms, like she feared being near Sophie might somehow get them taken too.

Sophie wanted to be annoyed, but . . . that
was
what happened to Dex.

Sandor moved in front of her as Sophie ducked her head and picked up her pace, and they didn’t stop until they’d reached Slurps and Burps, the only unique building in the entire city with its topsy-turvy structure and rainbow paint job. The door belched as they entered, and a plume of purple smoke greeted them with the stench of old pickled cabbage.

“I
told
you not to add the savoyola until the flame turned blue!”

“No, you said red!”

“Red heat makes it curdle and combust!”

“I
know
.”

“Then why did you add it?”

“Because you told me to!”

Despite the gag-inducing stench, Sophie smiled as she and Sandor wove through the maze of shelves filled with tiny vials
and bottles. When they finally reached the back laboratory, the scene was even more chaotic than she’d imagined.

Thick pink slime covered everything—the lab table, the ceiling, and especially the tall slender man who looked even more like his son with the vibrant goo coating both of their faces.

“You look like when I smacked you with that splotcher,” Sophie told Dex, grinning as he tried to smear away the pink sludge from his cheeks. Splotching was a type of telekinesis duel, and she had easily defeated him and left him splattered with hot pink splotcher slime.

Kesler swatted at the tiny flames that had caught on the bottom of his white lab coat. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you, Sophie?”

“I needed to talk to Dex, but maybe I should come back later. . . .”

“No—don’t go,” Dex blurted. “I mean, um, I could use a break. Let me just clean up real quick.”

He raced toward the storage room, nearly slipping in a pink puddle as he ran.

Kesler shook his head. “I think your alchemy skills are rubbing off on him, Sophie.”

“It wasn’t my fault!”
Dex shouted from the other side of the wall.

Kesler mouthed,
Yes it was,
before he said, “Well, I’d better get this mess taken care of. Feel free to wander around. I’m
sure we have at least a
few
elixirs Edaline isn’t keeping on hand in case you have another one of your incidents.”

Sophie wasn’t so sure. She’d seen Edaline’s medicine collection. It was getting out of control.

Still, the Dizznees made a
lot
of elixirs, most with names like Buff Stuff and Curley-Dew and Fuzzy Fizz. Kesler liked to keep things as ridiculous as possible—his small way of rebelling against the stuffy nobles who frequented his store. But that didn’t mean his concoctions weren’t seriously powerful. Slurps and Burps had an elixir or balm for almost every problem or ailment anyone could ever have. Which was why the store was so cluttered with shelves. Sandor was struggling to maneuver his bulky frame through the aisles without knocking things over.

A blue bottle caught Sophie’s eye as she browsed.

“What’s Fade Fuel?” she asked, picking up the delicate flask. Clear liquid sloshed inside, and the glass felt warm to the touch.

“Helps you regenerate faster if you fade during a leap,” Kesler called.

Her grip tightened on the vial. Maybe it could ease the strange headaches and dizziness she kept getting.

“Better put that away,” Kesler said behind her, startling her so much she nearly dropped the bottle. He took it from her, holding it up to the light until the bottle glowed. “This would’ve made Elwin’s job a lot easier when he was trying to
bring you back. But it has limbium in it.”

Just the word made her skin itch and her stomach heave.

Kesler frowned as he set the bottle back on the shelf. “I helped him make a version without the limbium, but it was hardly the same. Good thing you’re such a fighter.”

“Yeah,” Sophie mumbled, not quite sure what to say. “What exactly does limbium do?”

“Many things, depending on what you mix it with. Mainly it affects the limbic system.”

A diagram from one of her old human science books filled Sophie’s memory. “That’s the emotional center of the brain, isn’t it?”

“And the center of behavior, long-term memory, and motivation. It’s also the root point of any special ability. Not something to be tampered with lightly. Which is why we put it in
very
few elixirs—and only use a drop. Though in your case that’s still a fatal amount. . . .”

She rubbed her arms, remembering the burning hives she’d gotten within moments of drinking the elixir Dex had given her. Had it really only had a drop?

“Why were you asking?” Kesler asked. “Are you still feeling side effects from the leap?”

Sophie hoped he didn’t notice her slight hesitation before she said, “How could I be? Grady and Edaline make Elwin check me like once a week.”

“That’s not actually an answer,” he pointed out.

She had to fight the urge to tug out an eyelash. “I’m fine.”

And she
was
fine.

Once again she reminded herself of how very many times Elwin had checked her. She probably just needed more sleep.

Kesler didn’t look convinced, though, so she added, “I’ve just been having a lot of nightmares. But there’s no elixir for that.”

“Not unless you want a sedative,” Kesler agreed.

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Yeah, I’m with you on that,” Dex said as he joined them. He’d changed to a blue tunic and washed away most of the pink slime, but there was still a small patch near his left ear. “I’ve had enough sedatives to last five lifetimes.”

Kesler coughed—but it sounded more like a choke. He cleared his throat after a second and whispered, “I’d better get back to cleaning up. Dex, why don’t you take Sophie up to your lab?”

“You have a
lab
?”

“Yes—and he uses it to make all kinds of elixirs he
shouldn’t
.”

Sophie smiled. She’d seen one of Dex’s special elixirs in action last year when he’d turned Stina bald. She’d just never pictured him with a
lab
. She’d still never seen his room. He always came over to Havenfield.

“It’s this way,” Dex said, leading her to a door labeled
SUPPLIES
.

Sandor tried to follow them inside, but the cramped aisles of glass shelves in the storeroom were definitely not spaced far
enough apart to fit a bulky goblin. After a few steps he sighed and scanned the room. “I suppose I can keep watch from here.”

Sophie’s smile widened. She’d been trying to figure out how to get some alone time with Dex. Now she just had to figure out how to bring up the subject they’d both been oh-so-carefully avoiding for the last few weeks. . . .

Dex led her up an iron stairway, clapping his hands when they reached the top. A string of dangling spheres lit up, illuminating a small room under a nook in the store’s crooked roof. The only furniture was a lab table and chair surrounded by a curved wall of shelves, all of which were surprisingly organized. Sophie had expected all sorts or crazy bubbling beakers and flasks, but all of Dex’s alchemy equipment had been shoved to the corner of the table, replaced with tiny circuits and wires and pieces of gadgets.

“Practicing with your ability?” she asked, glad to see that he wasn’t letting his talent completely go to waste.

“Just until I manifest something else.”

“You’re so weird.”

“That’s why you like me.” He grinned and motioned for her to take the room’s only chair. Then he leaned against the table, grabbing a piece of gadget and fiddling with the wires as he asked, “So, what’s up—and don’t say ‘nothing.’ I know you better than that.”

All useful words seemed to vanish from her mind. “I, um . . . I was just wondering—hey, is that the card I gave
you?” She pointed to a blue notecard standing up in the center of his desk.

Dex’s cheeks flushed as he snatched the card and set it on the highest shelf he could reach. “Stop stalling.”

Sophie pulled at the sleeves of her gray-striped tunic. “Okay. Fine. I . . . need to know what you remember.”

She didn’t say any more, but she didn’t need to. Dex scooted away, folding his arms across his chest. Seconds stretched into minutes—though they felt like hours—before he finally mumbled, “Why? Did something happen?”

“Sort of. Grady told me something and I’m trying to figure out if it’s true. I’d tell you more, but it’s not my secret,” she added when Dex’s eyes narrowed. “Grady barely agreed to tell
me
.”

Part of her wished he hadn’t.

Dex twisted the wires on the gadget tighter. “You can trust me, you know.”

“I do trust you, Dex. That’s why I need to know what you remember—if you even remember anything.”

“Oh, I remember.”

The shudder in his voice made her mouth taste sour.

“You really want to know?” he asked.