Lodestar Page 17

  “I will do everything in my power to help my world,” Dex said quietly. “It wasn’t nearly as fancy as I’d been expecting.”

  “Same here. But it’s actually kinda perfect for what we’re all trying to do. Sometimes we hide things. And sometimes it hurts. And sometimes the adults send us away instead of letting us fight alongside them. But . . . we’re all just trying to do everything we can to help people.”

  Dex’s sigh lasted several seconds.

  “If I helps, I wouldn’t have cared why you came to Havenfield that day,” she added. “I’m just glad you did. I needed a friend too. And I got the best friend ever.”

  “GROSS—ARE YOU GUYS GOING TO KISS?” Bex shouted.

  “IGNORE HER,” Kesler called, scooping up another huge armful of snow and dropping it over the triplets’ heads. They squealed and ran into the trees with Kesler right behind.

  Dex’s face looked so red it was basically purple. “Siblings are the worst.”

  “They can be,” Sophie agreed.

  She still missed the human sister she’d grown up with, though. They’d fought all the time. But that’s what sisters did.

  “Anyway, don’t worry,” she said. “I know she’s giving you a hard time. It’s not like . . .”

  “Yeah.” Dex’s brow scrunched, and he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else. Then he shook his head and his lips shifted to a different word. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m losing feeling in my toes.”

  Fitz and Biana were waiting by the door, ready with generous amounts of encouragement and support. And amazingly enough, Dex seemed like he was actually glad they were there. They’d come a long way as a group—and had some crazy, impossible, scary, frustrating things happen.

  But they also had each other. And that was something special.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  DEX’S HOUSE WAS even more beautiful on the inside. Everything looked blue and gray and shimmery, with swirls of white like waves in the ocean.

  Kesler was right, though—the crystal yeti in the entryway definitely needed to be destroyed. Its jaggedly carved fur looked like some sort of demented, oversize porcupine. And once again, the triplets seemed to have spared its life. Instead, they’d shattered what must’ve been a vase filled with glass marbles. The white stone floor was covered in the clear glass orbs.

  “Walk very carefully,” Juline warned.

  Sophie made it about ten steps before her foot rolled on a marble and sent her flying backward like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel. She would’ve been in for some killer bruises if Fitz hadn’t caught her.

  “Maybe I should carry you,” he said when she slipped again on her next step.

  His teasing smile made it extra hilarious when he fell a second later, landing on his butt with a loud “Oof!”

  Biana laughed so hard she nearly fell over too—but Dex was able to catch her by her shoulders.

  “Perhaps I should carry all of you,” Lovise offered, making it look easy as she helped them back on their feet. “The trick is to slide your steps, so nothing gets underneath you.”

  She was right—though they all looked like the world’s most uncoordinated ice skaters.

  “You okay?” Sophie asked when she noticed Fitz rubbing his tailbone.

  “He’s fine,” Biana answered for him. “I knock him down way harder than that in tackle bramble all the time. And by the way—he told me about the favor he owes you. If you need ideas for how to torture him, I have lots of suggestions.”

  “See, Dex?” Fitz asked. “You’re not the only one with annoying siblings.”

  “Trade you!” Dex offered.

  “Only if you take Alvar as part of the deal.”

  The name killed everyone’s smiles and had Sophie checking her Imparter again.

  “Do you think it’s a bad sign that we haven’t heard anything?” she whispered.

  “We’ve barely been gone an hour,” Biana reminded her.

  “Ugh—is that really all?” Sophie asked. “This day is going to take forever.”

  “I know.” Biana twisted the panic switch on her finger. “I think we need to stay busy so we don’t go crazy.”

  They’d made it to the main room by then, where the plush gray carpet was blissfully marble-free, and the clear ceiling let in warm rays of sunlight. Five curved staircases broke up the space, each leading to one of the towers. And all the gray-blue furniture had been arranged around a giant glass cloche in the center. Silver flames tipped with blue flickered under the dome, shimmering with each spark and crackle. Sophie had seen many types of fire since she’d moved to the Lost Cities, but she’d never seen any that were quite so beautiful.

  “You okay?” Fitz asked her. “I know you don’t like to be around flames.”

  “I don’t,” Sophie agreed. “But for some reason these don’t bother me.”

  “Probably because they’re a hologram.” Juline snapped her fingers and the glowing flames morphed into a black orb of the night sky filled with twinkling stars. “This is one of Dex’s inventions.”

  “That’s amazing,” Biana said, snapping again and creating a sphere of sunset. “You seriously made this?”

  Dex shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. All I did was tweak a fire emulator.”

  Biana shook her head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  “Sophie’s just as bad with compliments,” Fitz said. “Look at how red they’re both turning right now.”

  “They really are adorable, aren’t they?” Biana asked.

  Sophie sighed. “Who invited the Vackers?”

  “That one’s on you,” Dex said. “But at least we have someone to prank now. As soon as they fall asleep—”

  “Sleep?” Biana interrupted. “Only lame people sleep during slumber parties. Besides, we all know Sophie’s going to keep us up sending telepathic messages to Keefe. Or wait—you don’t think he’ll go to Havenfield, do you?”

  “I . . . don’t know if they’ll give him a choice,” Sophie mumbled. “But Keefe would never hurt our families.”

  “What happens if they tell him he has to?” Fitz asked.

  “We hope he has a plan to get out of it,” Sophie said. “Like how he had a plan to save me with that bead.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Fitz pressed.

  Sophie didn’t have an answer.

  “Come on,” Juline said, breaking the suffocating silence. “The solarium is this way.”

  She led them toward the back of the house, into a giant glass bubble of a room that made it feel like they were standing in a life-size fishbowl. A thin row of plants lined the round space, and Sophie noticed that their emerald green leaves shimmered with a thin layer of hoarfrost. The rest of the room was mostly empty—just a few topiaries scattered around and a pile of four rolled-up sleeping bags.

  The real focus was the view: a wide stretch of garden filled with flowering vines, gleaming silver fountains, and the most lifelike ice sculptures that Sophie had ever seen—a mix of spring and winter only a Froster could have at the same time.

  The woolly mammoth had been carved to scale, and somehow its icy fur looked soft and silky. And the saber-toothed tiger’s eyes gave Sophie chills.

  “They’re amazing,” Biana whispered.

  Juline’s cheeks reddened at the praise. “Thank you. Our lives are too chaotic for pets, so this is my compromise with the triplets. They get to decide which creatures I carve every week. And speaking of pets, is your imp going to need a bathroom spot? We can set up some sort of box if you don’t want him out in the cold.”

  “Or we could give him a way fluffier fur coat!” Biana jumped in. “Maybe change his color, too! Do you have any elixirs, Dex? I’m thinking purple this time—or maybe green.”

  “I’ll check my room,” he told her.

  Biana clapped. “Yay—first makeover of the night!”

  “You mean the only makeover,” Fitz corrected.

  “Aw, come on—you and Keefe let me do
it once before!” Biana whined.

  “Seriously?” Sophie asked. “Now that’s a story I have to hear.”

  Dex snorted. “Me too.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be searching Alvar’s records?” Fitz asked.

  Biana shrugged off her satchel. “I can’t imagine that’s going to take all night.”

  “It might,” Dex warned. “There are a lot of scrolls. I’ll need help carrying them down.”

  Fitz volunteered, and Biana pouted as the boys headed for the stairs.

  Juline handed Biana her other bag and gave Sophie Iggy’s cage. “For the record, I hope you guys have a little fun tonight. I know you’re worried about your parents. And I know how hard you all work trying to solve everything. But I speak for all of us when I say that we want you to enjoy being normal teenagers.”

  “But we aren’t normal teenagers,” Sophie reminded her. “Or I’m not, at least.”

  Juline took her hand. “Yes, you are. Even after everything you’ve been through. Even with everything you have ahead. You’re still a fourteen-year-old girl who deserves to relax and have fun with her friends.”

  “So what you’re saying,” Biana said, “is I have your permission to give Dex a makeover?”

  Juline laughed. “I’ll leave that up to Dex.”

  She winked and left them alone, and they got to work setting up the sleeping bags—which turned out to be a much trickier job than it should’ve been. The all-in-a-straight-row concept felt super awkward. But the round room made it impossible to go to separate corners. Eventually they settled on an X shape. That way their heads would be close enough to talk to each other, but they’d each still have as much space as possible.

  “Keefe is going to pout so hard when he finds out he missed this,” Biana said, claiming the sleeping bag closest to the room’s entrance. “We could’ve all scooted over and put his sleeping bag right here.”

  Sophie tried not to notice that the arrangement would’ve looked like a star.

  “You know what I hate?” she said, moving her backpack to the sleeping bag on the left of Biana’s. “If the Neverseen really do attack Havenfield today—and everyone stays safe—they’ll probably know that Keefe warned us. We tried to make it look like all the security was stuff they’d have set up in order to protect me. But I’m not there.”

  “Right, but it’s not like you never leave the house,” Biana reminded her. “And Keefe’s a quick thinker.”

  “Also a good liar,” Sophie mumbled.

  But talk didn’t mean much to the Neverseen.

  If they got suspicious, Keefe would have to do something to prove himself again. And it would have to be even bigger than what he already did at Foxfire. . . .

  “You know what I hate?” Biana asked, pulling a tab on the side of her sleeping bag and making it plump up like a pillow.

  Sophie copied her, and when she sat down, it felt like sinking into a giant stretched-out marshmallow.

  “I hate wondering how many times I should’ve figured out what my brother was doing,” Biana whispered.

  “That’s why Edaline told me hindsight is a dangerous game,” Sophie reminded her.

  “I know. But it feels so obvious. Like, I remember after my dad’s mind broke, Alvar decided to stay the night at Everglen because my mom had a super-rough day. And I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to wander the halls. I heard him in my dad’s office, talking to someone on his Imparter—but I figured he was trying to help finish one of my dad’s projects.”

  “Do you remember anything he said?”

  “Bits and pieces. I should’ve paid better attention. I heard him say something about changing the timeline. And he asked about test subjects. I also remember him using the word ‘criterion’ a couple of times. But I don’t know what any of that means.”

  Sophie pulled Ella from her backpack and leaned her cheek on the elephant’s pillowy belly. “You know what I miss? Back when I first moved to the Lost Cities—and the Black Swan were running my life from the shadows—I’d know I was on the right track because I’d hear a word and it would trigger new memories. Now it seems like everything we learn is stuff that even the Black Swan don’t know.”

  “Do you think that means they were preparing you for the wrong thing?” Biana asked.

  “Ugh—I do now!”

  Just when Sophie thought she’d reached maximum worrying capacity.

  What if the role she’d been designed to play wasn’t even the right one?

  Could Project Moonlark be . . . a fail?

  TWENTY-SIX

  UH-OH, DID SOMETHING happen?” Fitz asked as he stumbled into the solarium carrying a black trunk that looked like it weighed as much as he did. “You haven’t heard from Grady and Edaline, right?”

  Sophie double-checked her Imparter. “Nope. Still nothing.”

  Fitz set the trunk down in the center of the X and took the empty sleeping bag closest to Sophie. “Then why do you look like you want to tug on your eyelashes?”

  Sophie sighed. “Biana told me about a conversation she overheard Alvar having. I’m trying to figure out what it could mean.”

  “What conversation?” Dex asked as he brought an equally enormous trunk and set it down next to the one Fitz brought.

  Biana repeated the story while Dex sank onto the only empty sleeping bag, between the two Vackers.

  “So . . . you’re worried that Project Moonlark is a bust?” Fitz guessed.

  Sophie couldn’t look at him as she nodded.

  “Okay, but even if it is,” Fitz said, “haven’t you hated feeling like you’re some sort of puppet?”

  “Yeah, but it’s way scarier thinking there’s no safety net,” Sophie mumbled. “I didn’t like feeling controlled—but I did like thinking the good guys had a plan.”

  “I don’t know, wouldn’t it be kinda weird if the Black Swan knew all these horrible things were going to happen and didn’t do anything to stop them?” Fitz asked.

  “And just because parts of their plans have changed doesn’t mean all of them have,” Biana added. “You still have crazy powerful abilities. And you have us. We’ve got this!”

  “I guess,” Sophie said. “I just wish we had any idea what the Neverseen are planning, or what the Lodestar Initiative actually is. I mean, why would your brother be talking about ‘test subjects’ and ‘criterion’? That sounds like some sort of experiment.”

  Dex sucked in a breath. “Okay—this is going to sound crazy—but hear me out. What if the Lodestar Initiative is the Neverseen’s version of Project Moonlark?”

  “I’m not sure I know what that means,” Biana told him.

  “I do,” Fitz said. “And please tell me you don’t actually think they’re trying to build another Sophie.”

  “Why not?” Dex asked. “They’ve known she exists for a while. Don’t you think they’d try to do something to counter her?”

  “They did,” Fitz argued. “They tried to find her. And capture her. And now they’re trying to control her.”

  “Maybe,” Dex said. “But they could do all of that and try to re-create her.”

  “Can everyone stop talking about me like I’m Dr. Frankenstein’s monster?” Sophie grumbled.

  “Is that a human thing?” Biana asked.

  “Yeah, it’s this big scary guy with bolts in his neck, who’s pieced together from dead things,” Fitz said. “I remember seeing pictures of it one of the times I visited the Forbidden Cities. I think it was a movie?”

  “And a book,” Sophie mumbled.

  “Sorry,” Dex said. “I didn’t mean it like that. But . . . it would explain what Alvar meant by ‘test subjects.’ I’ve also heard the word ‘criterion’ used with DNA and genetics and stuff.”

  Sophie hugged Ella so tight all the stuffing bulged in the elephant’s head.

  “Hey,” Biana said, patting Sophie’s shoulder. “Even if he’s right, it doesn’t change anything about you—or Keefe.”

  “I don’t think he’s right,�
� Fitz added. “Keefe’s mom helped create the Lodestar Initiative, and she’s definitely not a scientist. And don’t even try to convince me Keefe’s their version of Sophie. He’s older than she is. And he wasn’t raised by humans. And he only has one ability. And he’s not nearly as awesome.”

  He grinned at Sophie, but she was too busy panicking to return it.

  “He does have a photographic memory, though,” Biana said—which did not help. “And his empathy is more powerful than other Empaths. Do you think his mom could’ve had his genes tweaked somehow after he was born?”

  “I guess we could ask Forkle about it,” Dex said.

  “And he’ll tell us we’re being ridiculous,” Fitz assured him.

  “Maybe. But they did for sure mess with Keefe’s memories,” Dex argued. “So maybe all they did was plant secrets in his head, like the Black Swan did with Sophie. You have to admit it’s at least possible.”

  Sophie wasn’t going to admit anything.

  It was too weird.

  Too wrong.

  Too . . . no.

  Just no.

  She tried to bury the theory deep—lock it away with all the other Things She Didn’t Want to Think About.

  But the idea had already dug its claws in deep.

  So had the bigger, scarier question it raised, echoing around her head on autorepeat.

  If Dex was right, and the Lodestar Initiative was the Neverseen’s version of Project Moonlark . . . did that mean Keefe was meant to be her nemesis?

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  YOU WERE MADE to be the hero,” Sophie mumbled. “I was raised to be something . . . else.”

  “What?” Fitz, Biana, and Dex all asked.

  “That’s what Keefe told me. At the Lake of Blood. When he ran off with the Neverseen. Do you think he meant . . . ?”

  She couldn’t finish the question.

  “Hey,” Fitz said, scooting next to her on her sleeping bag. “I don’t think it means what you’re thinking it means. Brant and Fintan were there—and Keefe needed to convince them he was joining for real. He had to sound like a guy trying to explain to his friend why he was betraying her—and remember, I’m saying that as someone who still has trust issues with Keefe.”