Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (47 page)

“I think perhaps it is too early to make any decisions,” he
finally announced, holding up his hands. “To decide if punishment is necessary before we know the full extent of the alicorn’s injuries would be foolish. My recommendation is that we reconvene tomorrow, after Miss Foster has been treated and Silveny is awake.”

The other Councillors murmured their agreement.

Bronte rolled his eyes. “What time can Miss Foster finally take her medicines?”

Elwin stepped forward. “Not until after sundown tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll be back at sunset.” Bronte raised his pathfinder like the matter had been decided.

“Wait!” Sophie called, turning to Councillor Emery. “I need a few more hours than that.”

“What for?” Bronte demanded.

“I need to go to Everglen.” She couldn’t risk that they might haul her away to Exile without giving her a chance to fix Alden. She had no idea if there was any part of him she could rescue, but there was no way she wasn’t going to try.

“You really believe you can heal his mind?” Kenric asked quietly.

“According to the Black Swan, I was designed that way.”

“Incredible,” Councillor Terik breathed.

“More like incredibly complicated,” Bronte barked, and Sophie wished she had something to throw at him. Leave it to him to find a problem with
everything.

“What do you mean, Bronte?” Kenric asked.

“I mean that we’ve spent so long operating under the knowledge that we
can’t
fix broken minds that we’ve never had to consider whether we
should
.”

“You would leave Alden trapped in madness?”

“No,” Bronte admitted quietly. “His recovery would be a tremendous gain. But where do we go from there? How do we decide who to heal and who not to heal?”

“How about the ones who were innocent—like Prentice?” Sophie suggested.

“Was Prentice innocent?” Bronte countered. “Regardless of whether he was working for good or ill, he was still violating our fundamental laws. Is that worthy of redemption?”

“Yes,” Sophie answered, expecting the others to echo her. But the Councillors stayed silent.

“Okay, what about someone like Brant?” Sophie tried. Grady and Edaline gasped, like they hadn’t considered the idea. “His mind was broken by accident.”

“I would still fear a slippery slope with that precedent,” Bronte replied.

“So what are you saying?” Councillor Emery asked him.

“Only that if this ability exists, it will need to be regulated and sanctioned—just like the breaks themselves. Careful thought and consideration will need to be given before each time it is used, and a unanimous vote should be required.”

“Unanimous?” Terik asked. “You realize how rarely we come to those?”

“Exactly why it should be a requirement.”

They argued back and forth and the others chimed in, some raising new points, others choosing sides. Sophie tried to keep up with it all but it got so complicated, and her body was so sore and tired, that she finally raised her hands and called out, “Excuse me!”

Her mouth went dry as all eyes returned to her. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. It’s just . . . Don’t you think we should wait until we find out if I can even do this before we start piling a mess of rules on it? And as the one who has the ability—don’t I get any say in when I will and won’t use it?”

“Yes to your first question,” Bronte conceded. “No to your second.”

Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but she caught Councillor Terik shaking his head and decided to refrain.

Councillor Emery rubbed his temples again. “Clearly, we need to explore the realms of possibility before we discuss the complexities of the reality. So how about we convene at Everglen an hour after sunset and see what happens? We can debate further from there.”

The others agreed, and Grady promised to arrange everything with the Vackers. Everyone flashed away, and only then did Sophie realize she’d agreed to try healing her first mind in front of an audience.

“I get to go too, right?” Keefe asked.

“Of course,” Grady promised, and Sophie was relieved.

Keefe deserved to be there—though she had no idea if she was really going to be able to fix anything.

“Good.” Keefe met her eyes, and his face turned serious. “It’s going to
work
, Sophie.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Which means you need to get some sleep. You have to be well rested for tomorrow’s celebration of epic proportions. And I guess I should probably go home too.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll live.” He dusted himself off as he stood. “Try not to die while I’m gone, okay? And no ‘almost deaths’ either.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He winked as he held his home crystal to the predawn sunlight and slowly glittered away.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Keefe’s growing on me,” Grady mumbled.

“Me too,” Sandor agreed. “Though I’d prefer he stop calling me Gigantor.”

Everyone laughed. But then Grady’s smile faded. “I’d better help the gnomes get Silveny somewhere safe, and you need to rally the other goblins, Sandor.” He glanced at Sophie. “Think you’ll be able to get some sleep, even with the pain?”

“I’ve had worse,” she promised, wishing it weren’t true.

Grady sighed and turned to leave.

“Are you going to tell the Vackers what I’m trying to do?” she called after him.

“I think I have to. I hate to get their hopes up, but they’ll wonder what’s going on when all the Councillors show up.”

“I guess.”

She let him walk a few more steps before she asked, “What if I can’t do it?”

Grady walked back and took her hands. “Then they’ll appreciate how hard you tried—and you’ll know you did
everything
you could, and we’ll all find a way to let him go for good. Okay?”

Sophie nodded.

He gave her another hug and wiped away the tears she hadn’t even noticed she was shedding.

“Come on, Sophie,” Edaline said, gently draping an arm across her shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up as much as we can, and then you need to rest. You have a big day ahead of you.”

S
OPHIE STARED AT THE GLITTERING
mansion of Everglen, trying to force her legs to move. She couldn’t believe it’d only been two weeks since the day when everything fell apart.

She had to make things right today.

When the sun had set, Elwin made her guzzle so many elixirs and serums that she still felt light-headed as she made her way up the glittering steps. Or maybe that was nerves. Either way, she was glad she hadn’t eaten anything, because there was no way she would’ve kept it down.

Grady and Edaline walked on each side of her, and they squeezed her hands as she stumbled forward.

“Remember,” Grady said quietly, “all you can do is try your best.”

She repeated those words as Della opened the door to greet them.

She looked like
Della
again, her piercing eyes sharp and clear and a hint of color in her cheeks. Fitz and Biana flanked each side of her, but Sophie didn’t let herself look at them. She focused on the rainbow flecks of light on the floor, relieved she felt no reaction to them.

“Thank you, Sophie,” Della said, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace. Sophie tried not to think about how frail Della felt, or how much they all were counting on her to do this, but the pressure piled on top of her anyway. Especially when Biana joined the hug.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” Biana whispered, starting to cry. “I know I’ve been awful and I don’t blame you if you hate me. It’s just been so hard.”

“I know,” Sophie told her. “It’s okay.”

A tiny part of her wondered if Fitz would chime in, but he stayed silent, standing just out of reach. So she was completely surprised when he said, “You can’t hear me anymore, can you?”

Sophie turned to face him, staring at his chin instead of his eyes. “Were you trying to transmit?”

He nodded—or she assumed he did because his chin bobbed up and down.

“I guess that means he fixed me, then.” Which was a relief. But it made her sad, too—not that she expected Fitz to be having any more secret conversations with her.

“Can I um . . . talk to you for a minute?” he asked quietly.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Um . . .” She looked around, trying to figure out where to go.

“Let’s go outside.” He offered her his hand, and several seconds passed before Sophie worked up the courage to take it.

She pleaded with her palm not to sweat as he led her to the shade of a nearby tree.

“The bruise is still there.” Fitz pointed to the dark purple spot on the back of her hand, in the center—all that was left after Elwin finished treating her. Elwin had promised he’d make a balm that would get rid of it, but Sophie had a feeling it was one scar that would stay.

“It doesn’t hurt.” She pressed it a few times, until Fitz grabbed her other hand to stop her.

He waited for her to meet his eyes before he said, “Keefe told me what you went through yesterday—and what you’ve been going through ever since . . . well, you know. And I just . . . I . . .” He dropped her hands and looked at the ground. “Ugh, how do I apologize for being the hugest jerk ever?”

Sophie smiled sadly. “You weren’t
that
big of a jerk.”

“Yeah I was.” He walked a few steps away, kicking the grass. “I was just so angry. All I could do was scream and break things. Half my stuff is trashed now.” He turned back to her, but he kept his eyes down. “But . . . I’m so sorry, Sophie—for everything. And I wanted you to know that before you try to fix my dad, because if it works, I don’t want
you to think that’s the only reason I’m saying it.”

His words felt warmer than the sunshine peeking through the branches. “It’s okay, Fitz. I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I ever was.”

He looked at her then, his brows scrunched together. “Why not?”

Sophie shrugged. “You thought you’d lost your dad. You had a right to freak out. But . . .” It was her turn to look away. “You really don’t blame me anymore?”

Fitz stepped closer. “I never
really
did. I was just . . . I don’t know. I was being stupid.”

“Boy is
that
an understatement,” Alvar said, making them both jump as he appeared out of thin air. “And I gotta say, Sophie. I think you’re letting him off too easy. At least make him buy you a present or something.”

Sophie laughed as Fitz glared at his brother. “Maybe next time.”

“There won’t
be
a next time,” Fitz said, and the look in his eyes made Sophie’s heart flutter. She’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“Yeah, well, let’s hope not,” Alvar said, clapping Fitz on the back. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt, but the Council is obviously eager to get started.”

Sophie sighed, wishing she could feel the same way. But there was a lot of pressure riding on this.

They walked in silence back to the front door, but before
Fitz followed Alvar inside, he whispered, “It’s lame that we can’t transmit anymore. I hope Tiergan still lets me be in your telepathy session.”

She felt her cheeks flame. “Me too.”

“And remember,” he told her as they started up the stairs. “No matter what happens now, we’re still friends, right?”

Sophie smiled. “Still friends.”

“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY,” GRADY TOLD
Sophie as she slowly approached Alden’s bed.

They’d moved him back to his bedroom, and all twelve Councillors had lined up against the curved walls, along with Keefe, Della, Fitz, Biana, and Alvar. Tiergan and Elwin were also there, in case anything went wrong and they needed either a Telepath or a physician to help—but Sophie was really hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

It felt
right
this time.

Maybe it was just her rushing high from mending things with Fitz and Biana, but she couldn’t help feeling like something really good was about to happen. She just had to trust, and try.

The room fell silent as she placed her hands against Alden’s temples and closed her eyes. She waited until she felt calm and in control. Then she took one last breath and opened her mind to Alden’s.

His mind was cold and thick and sharp, like swimming
through a raging river filled with jagged rocks. But no matter how hard the forces battered her, nothing broke through her mental barriers this time. No crazy memories or madness. No images at all. Just cold, quiet darkness that she sank deeper into—and then deeper still—trying to feel for warmth to guide her to the nook, like she’d done the last time.

Alden?
she transmitted, filling his mind with the sound of her call.
It’s Sophie. I’m here to help you.

Please be here. Please have enough left for me to rescue you.

She repeated the call over and over until his mind was nothing but a series of echoes. It didn’t seem to help, but she wasn’t giving up. She filled his head with happy memories, faces, places, sounds—anything she could think of.

At first they were swallowed by the darkness, but the more she transmitted, the longer they lingered, and slowly they gathered around her, a safe nest of precious things. And as she concentrated on them, she felt the tiniest spark of warmth.

It was far away—almost out of her reach—but she followed it through the murk and it led her to the nook.

It was empty.

Alden!
she transmitted over and over, begging him to respond. He couldn’t be gone. She wouldn’t give up. There had to be something else she could say, do, try.

She was
made
for this.

Her mind ran through the things Mr. Forkle had told her about the way he’d designed her, and as she repeated their
conversation, she realized she’d missed one crucial step.

Inflicting
.

She’d learned nothing from her one, lonely inflicting session except how to endure pain—but Silveny had sent her blasts of emotion all the time. Only problem was, she had no idea how Silveny did what she did. But maybe her instincts knew what to do—just like when she teleported.

She focused on love, the most powerful emotion of all, thinking about all the different people she cared about. Her family. Her friends. Iggy and Silveny. Even Sandor in all his gobliny glory. She was surprised by some of the faces that filled her mind, but she loved so many people in so many different ways. And as she thought about all the things they’d done for her, a buzz of warmth and happiness and energy swelled around her mind. Just a trickle at first, but the more she fed it, the more it turned into a raging surge.