Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (25 page)

Sophie gulped down the words like they were cold water in the scorching desert.

She had the exact same goal.

And for the first time in a few weeks, the future was feeling bright.

G
ET READY,” DEX SAID WHEN
Dame Alina thanked the audience.

A bell chimed as she dipped an exaggerated curtsy, and everyone leaned back and opened their mouths to catch the white confetti that started raining over the auditorium. Sophie copied them, surprised that the confetti felt warm on her tongue and tasted like coconut and strawberries and other sweet fruits she couldn’t name.

“Grab as much as you can!” Dex shouted, stuffing handfuls of the candy anywhere he could store it. Now Sophie understood why the costumes had so many pockets.

She filled everything but the pocket with the tracker, and by the time she was done, the confetti shower had stopped and
the Mentors were herding the prodigies outside to the lawn with the mascot-shaped bushes. Dex left to round up the triplets, and Sophie wondered how she was ever going to track down Grady and Edaline in the chaos. But then she spotted Sandor’s flat-nosed face towering over the crowd at the far end of the courtyard.

She tried to make her way through the mass of parents and prodigies, but kept getting bumped and rerouted away. She was about to turn back and try a different path when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“So I wagged my tail when I was supposed to flick it—what’s the big deal?”

Keefe
.

And the voice that responded was a voice Sophie had been hoping to avoid hearing again.

“The ‘big deal’ is that this was your chance to impress the faculty—and instead you’ve shown them you’re just as ridiculous as ever. When are you going to start taking your education seriously?”

Lord Cassius—
Keefe’s arrogant and overbearing father.

“Hey, I’m a year ahead—what more do you want from me?” Keefe asked him.

“I want you to live up to even a
fraction
of your potential.”

“No, you want me to be like you.”

“And what would be wrong with that?”

Sophie knew she shouldn’t listen, but she’d been curious
about the relationship between Keefe and his dad ever since she’d run into them after midterms and seen the way Keefe seemed to wilt in his father’s presence. Not that she could blame him. She’d probably done the same thing the moment she’d looked into Lord Cassius’s far-too-intense eyes.

“This is why I didn’t want to leave you,” Sandor squeaked, shoving his way to her side. “How can I protect you in all this commotion?”

Before Sophie could answer she heard someone near her whisper, “That’s the girl who was taken.” Several others mumbled something about “unsafe” and suddenly the crowd around them had scooted away, leaving a wide bubble of space.

Sophie’s face flamed.

“You sure know how to clear a path, Foster,” Keefe said behind her, making her cheeks feel even hotter. He smirked when she turned to face him. “Nice trunk.”

“Nice fangs.” It was hard to recognize him with the hood covering his messy hair and the white fabric pieces dangling on each side of his face.

“We seem to have a habit of running into each other, don’t we, Miss Foster?” Keefe’s dad asked, forcing her to finally look at him. He smoothed his immaculate blond hair and treated her to one of his tight smiles, which never quite reached his eyes.

“Only twice now, Lord Cassius.” And she would do everything she could to make sure there wasn’t a third. She hated
the way he stared at her. Like any second he expected her to sprout an extra brain and use it to take over the world.

“How goes your progress with the alicorn?” he asked. “I hear you’ve had some
trouble.
”

The way he emphasized the last word made her wonder if he’d heard about their suspicious intruder. But she wasn’t supposed to talk about that, so she just shrugged and said, “Silveny’s really stubborn, which makes things a little harder.”

“Well,
that
I can definitely understand.” He glared at his son.

Sophie waited for Keefe to snap back with a joke, but he just stared at his feet like he hadn’t heard.

She kind of hoped he hadn’t.

“Well, I should get back to Grady and Edaline,” she said, slipping away before Lord Cassius could stop her. “I’ll see you on Monday, Keefe.”

“Let the Foster Adventures begin,” Keefe called after her.

Sophie could hear them return to arguing as Sandor led her to where Grady and Edaline were. But she stopped paying attention when she spotted Alden and Della.

Alden laughed as Sophie ran to his side and strangled him with a hug. “It’s good to see you, too, Sophie.”

She dried her tears on his orange cape. It felt so good to hear him sound like
Alden
again. She knew Elwin and Fitz had promised her that Alden was fine, but she still pulled back
from the hug to examine him herself. He looked
much
better, but there was a line on his forehead where the gash had been.

Alden touched the scar. “It’ll be gone in a couple of days. Some wounds need a little more time. But there’s no reason to worry. How about you? You look a little different since the last time I saw you.”

He tugged on her floppy ears.

Sophie smiled. “Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

“I wish,” Biana grumbled as she and Fitz—who somehow managed to look good as a saber-toothed tiger—joined them. “We still have to do the elite dedication.”

“That’s my favorite part,” Della said, reaching for Alden’s hand.

Sophie followed their gaze to the two twisted towers that stood on their own in the distance, one made of pure silver, the other of gold.

“I still can’t believe you have a session in the Silver Tower,” Biana said as the spotlights around the towers dimmed.

“Seriously?” Fitz asked. His eyes widened when Sophie nodded. “Well . . . wow. That’s crazy.”

He smiled as he said it, but Sophie could hear a hint of envy in his voice. If he only knew how much she was dreading it. Now that she’d seen Prentice, it would be even harder to face Wylie if she ran into him.

“How many prodigies live in the towers?” she asked, hoping it was a
lot.

A loud chime drowned out Fitz’s answer and the crowd fell silent as the arched doors on each building parted. Two streams of prodigies in silver and gold cloaks filed out and lined up around their towers, facing the crowd. Sophie tried to guess which one could be Wylie, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. Before she could spot him, they turned away and raised their hands toward the stars.

A flash of purple gleamed from the roofs, bathing everything in an unearthly glow.

“The splendors just bloomed,” Fitz explained as everyone applauded. “They’re a rare plant that only flowers once a year, and every elite prodigy has to cultivate one to have it bloom at the Opening Ceremonies. It’s their gift for future generations.”

“Why does it smell like feet?” she asked, gagging.

Biana plugged her nose. “It is pretty gross. But it draws the flickerwings.”

She pointed to the sky, where thousands of twinkling sparks were sweeping in from every direction. At first Sophie thought they were fireflies, but when they got closer she realized they were some sort of glowing moth or butterfly. They landed on the towers, coating the gleaming buildings in iridescent flecks as a slow, lilting melody began to play, and the elite prodigies started to dip and twirl and spin.

The dance was supposed to be calm and peaceful, but Sophie felt the opposite when she spotted a dark-skinned elf who looked uncannily like his father.

“That’s Wylie, isn’t it?” Sophie whispered to Alden.

Alden tensed at the name, and his voice cracked as he looked where she’d pointed and said, “Yes, I believe it is.”

She watched Wylie leap and sway to the music and wondered if he was wishing the same thing she was.

That his dad could be there to see him.

“Do you think he blames me for what happened to his father?” Sophie asked, barely able to find her voice.

Several seconds passed and she wondered if Alden had heard her. But then he murmured, “No, Sophie. He blames me.”

The sorrow in his tone made her wish she could tell him that wasn’t true. But if Tiergan blamed Alden, it was pretty safe to assume Wylie did too.

It probably didn’t matter. No one could change anything that had happened. If Wylie did blame her, all she could do was avoid him and hope he didn’t cause a scene if they somehow ran into each other.

The music faded to silence, and the audience erupted into applause as the boys bowed and the girls curtsied and the tower chime sounded again, sending the flitterwings scattering. By the time the last flitterwing had fluttered away, the elite prodigies had formed two perfect lines and were filing back into their gleaming towers as the purple glow faded. Dame Alina’s voice cut through the darkness, thanking everyone for coming to support the future generations. Then the chimes in all the towers began chiming an intricate melody
as the crowd applauded and turned to disperse.

“What’s wrong?” Della asked, sounding suddenly worried.

Sophie glanced at Alden, surprised to see how pale he looked. And he was shaking.

He reached up, pressing his forehead, where the wound had been. “My head . . .”

His words trailed into a moan.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Fitz asked, shoving past Sophie to steady Alden as he started to sway.

“I—I can’t—” Alden tried, but a groan swallowed the thought and he collapsed into Fitz’s arms.

For a moment everyone just stood there as Alden trembled.

Then Grady took charge. “We need to get him home. I’ll hail Elwin and tell him to meet us there.”

He held up a pathfinder and helped shoulder Alden’s weight as he and Fitz leaped away. Edaline took Della and Biana with her, ordering Sandor to take Sophie back to Havenfield. They vanished into the light before Sophie could protest.

She stared at the empty space where they’d all been.

No one around her seemed to notice the Vackers’ sudden departure, too busy laughing and eating candy and gathering their children to head to their own homes.

“I should’ve gone with them,” Sophie said, ripping her stupid headpiece off and flinging it on the grass.

“Lady Ruewen instructed me to take you to Havenfield,” Sandor said as he retrieved the stupid piece of costume. “I’m sure they’ll
be joining us as soon as Elwin arrives to tend to Lord Vacker.”

“But I should be there!”

Why didn’t they take her with them?

Sandor placed a hand on her shoulder. “You should be where your family instructed.”

She stalked away, looking for someone—anyone—who could take her to Everglen. But everyone was avoiding “the girl who was taken,” like they’d rather pretend she didn’t exist.

“Whoa—what’s going on, Foster?” Keefe asked as he rushed over from shadows. “I can feel your panic from, like, halfway across the courtyard.”

“I . . . I don’t know.” She tried not to cry as she explained, but a few tears still leaked down her cheeks.

“Hey—it’s okay,” Keefe said, raising his arms like he might hug her and then dropping them back to his sides. He pushed back his hood, rumpling his messy hair before he said, “Alden’s going to be fine. Remember—Elwin’s a genius. Look at how many times he’s brought you back from the dead.”

He meant it as a joke, but Sophie couldn’t get past the word “dead.”

“If you’d seen how pale Alden looked . . . ,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was pretty scary. But trust me, Sophie—
nothing
was scarier than the way you looked when you were fading away. I really didn’t think . . .” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, my point is, Elwin got you back to normal. If he could do
that
, he can do anything.”

Sophie tried to nod, but her mind was too distracted by memories of the vivid streaks of blood that had streamed down Alden’s face in Exile.

Could Alden have
permanent
brain damage?

No—Keefe was right. Elwin
always
had a cure. He must’ve missed something the first time.

But how could he miss something?

“Hey,” Keefe said, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, okay? Am I ever wrong?”

“Yes.”

“That hurts, Foster. And I’m right about this. Elwin will fix everything, I promise.”

“Come on, Miss Foster,” Sandor said quietly. “I need to get you back to Havenfield. Your parents might already be waiting for you.”

“He’s right,” Keefe told her. “Go home. And plan on me giving you a great big ‘I told you so’ tomorrow.”

She wanted to resist—but what choice did she have?

She pulled out her home crystal and held it up to the light.

Keefe reached for her hand like he was going to grab it, but at the last second he pulled back and gave her a small salute instead, promising that he’d check on the Vackers the next day.

Sophie wished she could feel as confident as he did. But as the rushing warmth pulled her away, she had a horrible feeling everything was about to fall apart.

B
IANA DIDN’T SMILE AS SHE
opened the gleaming gates to let Sophie into Everglen the next morning. Her pale green tunic was wrinkled and tied with a sloppy knot, and her hair was pulled back in a boring ponytail. With hair bumps.

“Is it that bad?” Sophie asked, feeling her already knotted insides twist even tighter.

When Grady and Edaline had come home the night before, all they could tell her was that Elwin was working on Alden and they were sure he’d be fine. And when Sophie had tried hailing Alden with her Imparter first thing in the morning, Della had simply told her to come right over.

“My mom keeps saying he’ll be okay,” Biana said, her
gloss-free lips trembling slightly. “But, I don’t know . . .”

They rushed down the winding path, and Biana explained how Elwin had been there all night trying different balms and medicines, but so far the only thing that helped were sedatives—and even those didn’t work the right way. By the time they reached the mansion, Sophie felt like she couldn’t breathe.