Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (7 page)

Grady led Sophie to the nearest tree, which reminded her of a weeping willow—if weeping willows had red leaves and bloomed with thousands of tiny purple flowers.

“Each Wanderling’s seed is coiled with a single hair from the one who’s been lost,” he explained. “When it sprouts, it
absorbs their DNA, taking on some of the attributes of the life they now share. Letting the lost live on.”

Those who wander are not lost.

“Cyrah had straight auburn hair,” Edaline whispered, running her hand through the swaying red leaves. “And flecks of violet in her eyes.”

Soft purple petals showered them, and Sophie caught as many as she could, hating that they would wither on the ground. “Did you know her?”

Grady brushed the bits of flower off his cape. “Not well. She was Prentice’s wife.”

The petals slipped through Sophie’s fingers.

Prentice had been a Keeper for the Black Swan, back before everyone knew they were working against the
real
rebels. Now he lived in Exile, his mind shattered by the memory break that the Council had ordered so they could find out what he was hiding. And the secret he’d refused to tell them was
her.

Where they hid her.

Why they’d made her.

Who she was.

His wife died not long after his mind was shattered. Lost her concentration during a light leap somehow and faded away before anyone could save her. Leaving Wylie, their only son, orphaned. Sophie had never met him—he was in the elite levels at Foxfire and lived in the secluded elite towers—but she
sometimes wondered if he knew she existed. And how he felt about her if he did.

She looked up and a ray of sunlight caught her eyes, sinking into her brain and pulsing with that same headache she kept getting.

“You okay?” Grady asked as she rubbed her temples.

“Sure.” She focused on the forest, surprised to realize how many trees there were. There had to be at least a hundred, spread among the meandering hills and carefully manicured bushes. It seemed like a lot, but . . . the Wanderling Woods was the elves’
only
graveyard. Could they really have only lost a hundred elves in all the centuries they’d been alive?

She reached for Grady’s and Edaline’s hands.

They held on tight and moved slowly down the path, their glassy eyes staring straight ahead. The path twisted through the quiet forest, leading them through patches of shadow and light until they rounded a large bend and entered a small sunlit clearing.

A lump formed in Sophie’s throat.

Elevated on a small hill and silhouetted against the sky was a fragile-looking tree with pale bark, dark green leaves, and slender limbs that fanned out toward the sun. Soft yellow leaves draped off the end of each bough like Spanish moss, making the tree elegant and wispy. And large blossoms the exact same blue as Edaline’s eyes blanketed the branches, filling the air with a scent like honey and berries and sugar.

The graceful tree blocked the early afternoon sun as they approached. Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off the inscription on the white stone marking the grave.

Jolie Lucine Ruewen

Without a word, Edaline opened the satchel she’d been carrying and removed a clear fluted bottle filled with a deep purple liquid.

“A special tonic the gnomes make,” Grady explained.

Edaline popped the cork and drizzled the thick syrup along the base of the tree. When the last of the liquid had drained, she smacked the bottle against the tree’s trunk. The glass shattered into a million tiny flecks, sprinkling the wet grass. And as the sparkle-coated syrup sank into the ground, a bright green vine sprang from the dark soil and slowly coiled its way up the bark of Jolie’s tree. Ruffled purple flowers bloomed along the stem, and every inch of the vine gleamed, like it had been covered in glitter.

Grady wiped his eyes as he took Edaline’s hand. “The vine only lasts a few weeks, but it’s the best gift we can give her.”

“Plus this.” Edaline’s voice was barely audible as she gently pulled one of the branches down, revealing a silver charm bracelet tucked between the blossoms. She removed a tiny crystal star from her pocket and added it to the already full chain. “We gave her this bracelet when she started Foxfire, and we bought her
a new charm every year on the first day of school. She used to wear it every day, but we found it when they gave us her things from the elite towers, so we brought it here, and give her a new charm every time we come.”

Sophie bit her lip, wondering if she should say something.

But what?

“I’m so sorry,” was all she could come up with.

“It’s not your fault,” Grady told her, squeezing her shoulder. But something in his tone had darkened.

Edaline started to shake with sobs and Grady pulled her against him, letting her cry on his shoulder.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Sophie whispered, backing away. She’d thought she could help by being there—but nothing would ever make it less painful. And Jolie’s loss was
theirs
.

She didn’t belong.

She slipped quietly down the path, trying to remember which way would take her to the entrance. She’d wound through the trees for several minutes before she realized she didn’t recognize any of them. Turning back didn’t help, and as she turned around yet again and still didn’t recognize anything, she was forced to admit that she was lost.

And she was alone.

She’d been wishing for solitude since the kidnapping—but standing there by herself in the eerie silence felt
wrong.
Like the woods were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

She wasn’t about to stick around and find out what it was.

Running now—and cursing herself for wearing the stupid heels—she raced up the nearest hill, hoping she’d be high enough to get her bearings. But two small trees planted side by side at the crest distracted her.

Saplings.

Her blood turned to ice when she read the names carved into the white stone markers.

Sophie Elizabeth Foster

and

Dexter Alvin Dizznee

P
AIN SHOT UP HER ARM
as Sophie pinched her wrist, and she released the breath she’d been holding.

She wasn’t dead.

She wasn’t dreaming either—though this had all the makings of a nightmare.

Her eyes studied the trees, focusing on the one that was just slightly taller than the other. The pale trunk was scrawny and weak, but the tree still stood on its own. Golden, star-shaped leaves covered the skinny branches, with deep brown seedpods peppered among them. No flowers. No color. Just a plain, basic tree.

Her
tree.

She couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed with it—especially compared to Dex’s, which had a twisted trunk, spiky, strawberry red leaves, and periwinkle berries. There was something so inherently
Dex
about it. Even without the marker, she could’ve guessed it was his grave.

She had a
grave
.

A glint of silver at the base of the thickest bough caught her eye and she reached out with shaky hands to unclasp a silver charm bracelet with two charms: an elephant covered in blue diamonds, and some sort of locket etched with intricate swirls.

The scenery blurred as the world started to spin too fast, and she sank to the ground, burying her face between her knees. She counted each breath, trying not to throw up her breakfast all over the grass. Sixty-three breaths had passed before Grady’s hushed voice shattered the silence.

“They kept the trees.”

Her head snapped up, but her eyes couldn’t focus on the two people standing over her. She thought it was the sudden bright light, but then something wet streaked down her cheek.

Grady and Edaline dropped to the ground beside her, strangling her with a hug. Sophie’s tears soaked Grady’s cape as Edaline rubbed her back.

“We should’ve warned you,” he said through a sigh. “I just didn’t want to upset you if they weren’t even here.”

Sophie tried to make her mouth ask any of the questions
swelling inside her brain, but all she could choke out was, “How did they . . . ?”

Edaline must’ve known what she meant because she whispered, “We gave them a hair from the silver brush in your room.” She swept a strand away from Sophie’s cheek. “And we planted the seed at your funeral.”

Sophie closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop her from imagining them standing on that hill, crying as they placed her seed in the ground. Clinging to each other as they fastened her charm bracelet around the branch, planning to add to it each year.

Was Dex’s family there too?

Who else came?

Her mind ran through a list of names and she shook the upsetting thought away. She forced herself to sit up, wiping her runny nose on the back of her hand. “But you know we’re alive now. Why are they still here?”

Grady touched the slender trunk of her tree. “Probably because the Wanderlings are living things. Would it be right to kill them, simply because we planted them by mistake?”

“I guess not,” she mumbled.

It wasn’t the tree’s fault the kidnappers tossed her registry pendant into the ocean and tricked everyone into believing she’d drowned. But it still gave her the creeps knowing she had a grave. And not any grave—a tree mixed with her DNA, absorbing tiny parts of her as it grew and changed. Almost like a part of her had been stolen, somehow.

Edaline held Sophie tighter as she shivered and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

They were the same words Sophie had said to them at Jolie’s grave. And they helped about as much. But if Grady and Edaline could be strong, so could she.

Her hands curled into fists and something metal cut into her palm. “Oh, I found this.” She held out the charm bracelet. “Is it okay if I keep it?”

Edaline covered her mouth and looked away.

Grady cleared his throat. “Of course. We wanted you to have it. In fact, this is good. Just in time for when you start your first full year at Foxfire. We’ll have to get you a new charm.”

Sophie examined the charms they’d picked, smiling at the tiny blue diamond elephant, which must’ve been inspired by Ella. The locket turned out to be a small compass rimmed with tiny diamonds. Loopy letters had been engraved on the inside.

“ ‘Let the past be your guide,’ ” Sophie read aloud.

“What’s that?” Edaline asked.

“The inscription on the compass.”

“Compass?” Edaline turned pale as Sophie held out the charm. “We didn’t add that charm.”

Sophie felt her jaw drop as Grady snatched the bracelet and squinted at the inscription. “All I see is a jumble of old runes. You’re sure you see a message?”

He handed the bracelet back, and Sophie had to remind herself to breathe as she checked the inscription, which still read
the same way. When she closed the locket and looked closer at the etchings, she understood why. Mixed in with the intricate swirls was a black curl with a pointed end, like the curve of a bird’s neck, ending in a beak.

The sign of the swan.

I
T’S ABOUT TIME,” SOPHIE WHISPERED
, even though her hands were shaking.

She’d been waiting for the Black Swan to make contact ever since they’d revealed themselves with her rescue. Maybe they were finally going to explain why they’d made her and what they wanted her to do.

It did feel strange knowing they were still watching her, though—still planting messages and clues in the shadows, waiting for her to find them.

She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see a face peeking through the trees. But the woods were as silent and empty as ever.

Sophie studied the inscription again, which must’ve been
written in their special cipher runes—the only runes she could read, thanks to the way the Black Swan trained her brain.

“I thought you knew the Black Swan’s code?” She’d seen Grady looking through scrolls with cipher runes tucked in the margins.

“Only a few scattered phrases.” His voice had turned dark. Angry, almost. “What does it say again?”

“Let the past be your guide.” She moved the compass in every direction and the arrow always pointed north, just like it was supposed to. So the clue had to be the message itself.

Couldn’t they just say,
Meet us here and we’ll explain everything
? Was that really so much to ask?

“Put the charm down, Sophie,” Grady ordered, so loud it made her jump.

“What? Why?”

“You’re not taking another thing from them. If they want your help, they need to turn themselves in to the Council, face up to their actions—”

“What actions?” Grady had been
strange
about the Black Swan—always getting angry or changing the subject whenever she brought them up or asked about the Council’s search to find them. “You’re acting like they’re the bad guys.”

“Grady,” Edaline said, stopping him before he could reply. “Today is not the day for this.”

Grady sighed, and the pain in his eyes hurt Sophie’s heart.

Edaline was right. They were there to mourn their daughter, not talk about the hunt for the Black Swan.

But . . .

“I’m keeping the charm,” she mumbled, not looking at Grady.

“It’s not safe—”

“It’s just a charm, Grady,” Edaline interrupted. “What are they going to do, track her with it? They already know where we live.”

Sophie risked a glance at Grady, who looked like he wanted to argue. Instead he held out his hand. “Let me see it again.”

Sophie hesitated, wondering if he would give it back. She couldn’t imagine Grady being unfair like that, though, so she handed it over and Grady held it to the light, squinting at the bracelet from every possible angle.

“I suppose Edaline’s right,” he said through a sigh. “The charm’s not dangerous, but the message
is
. You can do what you want with the compass, but don’t you dare let them lead you around with the clue. You’re not their puppet.”

“I
know
. But they also rescued me,” she reminded him for what felt like the hundredth time. “They’re trying to help. So whatever this message means, I think we should figure it out.”