Lodestar Page 2

  “Is that bad?” Sophie asked, not missing his raised eyebrow. She didn’t like inflicting pain—but the ability had saved her life. And training at least gave her something she could do to prepare for the next time she faced off with the Neverseen. “I just want to make sure I can defend myself—and I know I have Sandor. But it’s not like he’s invincible. Isn’t it smart to plan for the worst-case scenario?”

  “It is smart,” Grady agreed. “But I also think you and I should talk later. Okay?”

  Sophie gave him half a nod. The last thing she wanted was another “with great power comes great responsibility” lecture. But she was pretty sure it was unavoidable.

  “Do you guys want to go?” she asked, knowing her parents weren’t fans of crowds. Before she’d moved in with them, Grady and Edaline had spent sixteen years hiding away, mourning the death of their only daughter. Jolie had been killed in a fire they’d recently discovered was set by her fiancé, Brant—a secret Pyrokinetic, and a leader of the Neverseen.

  “We’re fine,” Grady promised, squeezing Sophie’s hand. “And we can’t leave until Magnate Leto makes his final announcement.”

  He said the name so easily, without tripping over it the way Sophie tended to. Now that she knew his secret identity, her brain always wanted to call him Mr. Forkle.

  Sophie scanned the room to check for her friends and found them smiling and celebrating. Even Alden and Della—Fitz and Biana’s parents—looked happier than she’d seen them in weeks. She was on her way to say hi when the lights dimmed and Magnate Leto’s face projected across the glass walls.

  “You kids did an excellent job on your midterms!” he said, starting his speech with his two favorite words.

  No matter how many times Sophie studied his slicked dark hair and sharp features, she still couldn’t see the bloated, wrinkled face of the Black Swan leader behind them. But she’d watched Mr. Forkle’s ruckleberry disguise fade right before her eyes.

  “I realize this is usually the point where you’re dismissed for a six-week break,” Magnate Leto continued, “but in light of recent events, the Council has elected to do things a bit differently. I won’t go into further details—the Council will be sending out official scrolls after the weekend. But I wanted to mention it now so you’d be prepared. In the meantime, enjoy the rest of the celebration. And remember, change can be a powerful, inspiring thing when we keep an open mind.”

  Murmurs turned to a roar as his projection flashed away, leaving everyone debating possibilities.

  “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Grady asked Sophie.

  She didn’t—and that made it even more frustrating. After all the debates she’d had with the Black Swan, all her endless pleas for them to include her and trust her, they still insisted on keeping her at arm’s length.

  “Looks like everyone’s heading home,” Grady said, offering to gather up Sophie’s gifts while she returned her thinking cap to her locker.

  The atrium was empty when she arrived—just Sophie and Sandor and a few forgotten candy bubbles. She left her hat on the middle shelf of her locker and was about to walk away when she noticed a white envelope bearing a familiar curved black symbol on the top shelf.

  “Finally,” she whispered, ripping the thick paper right through the sign of the swan.

  Inside she found a short note—and a gift.

  She slipped the long necklace around her neck, not bothering to inspect the pendant’s swan-neck shape, or the round piece of glass set in the center. The Black Swan had given her the same monocle when she swore fealty to their order, and she was glad to have a replacement for the one Brant had destroyed.

  “What does the note say?” Sandor asked, reminding her that she would not be sneaking off for secret assignments without him.

  She handed him the paper, which was more direct than the Black Swan’s usual clues:

  Principal’s office.

  Now.

  Come alone.

  “I don’t like this,” Sandor mumbled.

  “You never do.”

  He followed her without further comment as she made her way back to the glass pyramid. Sophie kept her eyes down as she walked, relieved when she reached the apex without running into her friends. If they’d known about the note they would’ve insisted on joining her.

  “You may come in, Miss Foster,” Magnate Leto’s deep voice called through the heavy door before Sophie could even knock. “But I’d like Sandor to keep watch outside. This conversation cannot tolerate eavesdroppers.”

  Sandor’s sigh sounded like a snarl. “I’ll be right outside—and if you leap away without me, there will be consequences.”

  “Close the door behind you,” Magnate Leto told her as she entered, the words echoing around the glass office.

  Afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, turning the triangular room blindingly bright. The sloped glass walls had mirrors set into every other pane, remnants from the days when Councillor Alina—Sophie’s least favorite Councillor—was principal of Foxfire.

  “I’m glad you came,” Magnate Leto said from the other side of his huge swiveling desk chair. He was turned toward the windows, hidden behind the stiff winged-back cushion. “Sorry my note was so hasty. Next time I’ll make sure it rhymes.”

  The last few words sounded higher pitched, and Sophie was trying to figure out why when the chair slowly spun around to face her.

  Instead of the dark-haired elf she’d been expecting, she found a boy dressed all in black, with artfully styled blond hair and an infamous talent for mimicking voices.

  “Keefe?” she whispered.

  He smirked. “Did you miss me?”

  TWO

  WHOA, THAT IS an epic wave of emotions you’re hitting me with,” Keefe said, fanning the air between them. “It feels like you either want to hug me or strangle me—and personally, I’m rooting for the hug.”

  He leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms wide open.

  “You’re really going to joke about this?” Sophie asked, trying to keep her voice low. She didn’t want Sandor bursting in until she’d gotten some answers.

  “Don’t come any closer,” she warned as Keefe stood to approach her. “I’ve been practicing inflicting. A lot.”

  One hand moved to her stomach, rubbing the knot of emotions lodged under her ribs. Bronte was teaching her to tie them away, ready to unravel whenever she needed a burst of furious power.

  Keefe’s smile faded. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “You’re the Empath.”

  The words hung there for several seconds, turning heavier and heavier.

  Keefe sank back into his chair. “Wow . . . I didn’t expect that.”

  “What did you expect? You ran off with the Neverseen! You realize those are the people trying to kill me, right? The same people who killed Kenric and Jolie, and almost killed all of the gnomes and—”

  “I know,” Keefe interrupted. “But you know me, Foster.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “You do. I’m still the same guy. All I’m trying to do is end this nightmare. If I can figure out what they’re planning—”

  “Nope,” Sophie jumped in. “Worst idea ever. Playing both sides never works. Sooner or later they’re going to make you commit.”

  Keefe shifted in his seat. “I realize that what I’m doing is risky—”

  “And stupid,” Sophie added. “And dangerous. And—”

  “I still have to do it. And it’ll be fine. It’s all about keeping the right balance.”

  “There’s no balance when it comes to the bad guys, Keefe. They’re bad. It’s that simple.”

  “You and I both know it’s never simple. In fact, I seem to remember you telling me that the villains are never all bad.”

  “I didn’t say that because I wanted you to join them! I said that’s what makes them so scary!”

  “I know. But . . . I have a plan. I have to stick to it.”

  His ice-blue eyes
met hers, pleading for understanding.

  She shook her head. “We can beat them together. Team Foster-Keefe, remember?”

  “And how many times will you almost die in the process?” he asked. “How many emergency physician visits will there be? And what if Elwin can’t fix you?”

  “What if Elwin can’t fix you?”

  “I . . . don’t matter.”

  And there it was.

  Keefe’s guilt.

  The most dangerous emotion an elf could feel.

  Most were crippled by it. Alden’s sanity had once shattered because of it. But for some people it made them reckless.

  “It’s not your job to protect me,” she told him.

  “Maybe not. But if something happens . . .”

  She waited for him to say the rest—the real reason he felt so responsible. When he didn’t, she said it for him.

  “I know you blame yourself for what your mom’s done—”

  “This isn’t about her!”

  But it was.

  Sophie knew him too well.

  Keefe’s family life had always been miserable, thanks to his stiff, insulting father. But he’d been on a downward spiral ever since he’d discovered that his mom was one of the leaders of the Neverseen. She’d even erased some of his childhood memories and hidden a tracker in his family crest pin so he’d lead the Neverseen straight to his friends. But that was all before the Neverseen left her to die in an ogre prison as punishment for allowing one of her cohorts to be captured.

  Keefe kept claiming he didn’t care. But Lady Gisela was still his mom—and he’d joined the Neverseen right after he found out they might be willing to help him rescue her.

  “Please,” Sophie begged. “We can do anything they can do. Just come home—before it’s too late.”

  “It’s already too late.”

  His voice was the same flat tone he’d used before, when he’d told her I can’t pretend I’m who you want me to be anymore.

  “So this is about the Lodestar Initiative, then?” she asked.

  She’d only heard the mysterious project mentioned twice—once from the Neverseen and once in Keefe’s mind, in a memory his mother had tried to erase. It seemed to be the Neverseen’s grand plan. And Keefe believed he was a part of it.

  Keefe stood to pace the small room, keeping a careful space between them.

  “What is the Lodestar Initiative?” she pressed. “And what other lost memories did you recover? You said there were more.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Obviously it does.”

  Keefe tilted his head toward the ceiling, his eyes focused on the highest point. “All you need to know is that I’m not like you, okay? The Neverseen aren’t going to give me a choice.”

  Sophie was part of a project too—the Black Swan’s Project Moonlark. They’d genetically enhanced her abilities and filled her mind with important secrets for reasons they’d still never fully explained. But Mr. Forkle had always made it clear that any further involvement was up to her.

  “There’s always a choice, Keefe.”

  “Yeah—I’m going to find a way to end this on my terms. That’s my choice.”

  Silence swelled between them, and Sophie played with the monocle pendant he’d included with the note. “Was this the one that Brant ordered you to brand me with?”

  Keefe cringed. “No. That one’s mine. I stole it back.”

  “What happens when they notice it’s gone?”

  He shrugged.

  She sighed. “This is never going to work, Keefe. Brant and Fintan are crazy—but they’re not stupid. Neither is Alvar. One of them is going to figure out what you’re doing, and then who knows how they’ll punish you? Just quit now and we’ll come up with a new plan together.”

  She offered him her hand.

  Keefe stared at it for so long Sophie’s arm muscles began to ache.

  “That’s it?” she asked when he turned away. “You’d rather keep hurting the people who care about you?”

  “I’m helping you!”

  “And hurting us. Do you know what Fitz did when I told him you left?”

  Keefe ran his hands through his hair, wrecking his careful style. “I’m guessing yelling was involved.”

  “That’s what I’d been hoping for. But he didn’t even raise his voice. He just looked away so I wouldn’t see him crying. So did Biana. Even Dex teared up.”

  Seconds ticked by. Maybe minutes. It felt like forever before Keefe whispered, “What about you?”

  “I cried harder than any of them,” she admitted. “And then I got angry. You stole Kenric’s cache from me. You mimicked my voice!”

  The marble-size gadget held seven Forgotten Secrets—information deemed too dangerous for even the Council to know. Each Councillor had their own cache, and Kenric had asked Oralie to entrust Sophie with his when he died. Sophie had vowed to protect the cache with her life, and if she didn’t get it back before the Council discovered it was missing . . .

  “I also helped you escape,” Keefe reminded her.

  “Yeah, but you only made me one special bead. So what happens the next time the Neverseen find me? Or Dex? Or Fitz? Or Biana?”

  “I’ll find another way. I’m already working on a few things. And I only rigged one bead because I knew the Neverseen wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.”

  “I love how you keep talking about them like you’re not one of them now.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She pointed to the patch on the sleeves of his long black cloak, the same symbol that kept haunting her nightmares—a white eye set in a circle.

  “This is just a costume,” Keefe insisted.

  “Even if it is, the things you’re doing are real. That cache could destroy everything. And you handed it over like it was no big deal—”

  “Because it wasn’t! They can’t open it. They’ve had all their Technopaths working on it, and they can’t break through the security.”

  “And when they finally figure it out?”

  “I’ll steal it back long before that happens. I can handle this, Sophie. It’s my legacy.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m still putting all the pieces together. But I know enough to know I have to do this. And my plan is already working. Every day they’re trusting me a little bit more.”

  “Why is that?” she snapped. “What horrible things are they making you do to prove yourself?”

  Keefe tried to pace again, but she blocked his path. “Did you help them break into the registry?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Because they didn’t ask you? Or because you told them ‘no’?”

  His fidgeting made her wish she didn’t have to ask her next question.

  “What about the Sanctuary?”

  The Neverseen had spent months trying to break into the animal preserve to steal Silveny and Greyfell—the only known alicorns, who also happened to be Sophie and Keefe’s friends.

  “You were there, weren’t you?” she asked when he moved away from her. “You helped the Neverseen burn the gate?”

  “All I did was keep watch.”

  She shook her head. “How could you be a part of that?”

  The Neverseen were willing to risk anything to steal Silveny. They’d even broken one of her wings. All because the elves believed that allowing a creature to go extinct would throw off the delicate balance of the entire planet. Whoever controlled the last two alicorns—and their unborn baby—could blackmail the Council. They’d also prove to the world how little the Council could do to protect something it cherished, and fuel the unrest threatening to boil over.

  “I knew Silveny and Greyfell weren’t there anymore,” Keefe argued. “That’s the only reason I agreed. And in case you’re wondering, I haven’t told the Neverseen anything.”

  “Yet,” Sophie corrected. “Even if you don’t tell them, they can use a Telepath to fish out all of yo
ur secrets.”

  “They don’t have a Telepath right now. Gethen was their only one, and the Council has him locked away—thanks to us. I’m telling you, I’ve thought this through. I just need you to trust me.”

  She wanted to.

  She really did.

  She’d even done her best to convince Fitz, Dex, and Biana to not give up on him.

  But she could still hear the Neverseen telling Keefe: Surely you’ve realized that switching sides means betraying your friends.

  “Please,” Keefe begged. “I promise, I’m still me. And I can do this.”

  He took a cautious step toward her.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Until he was right in front of her, his lips curling with the world’s saddest smile.

  “Back to nervous habits, huh?” he asked as he brushed a fallen eyelash off her cheek.

  “It’s been a rough few weeks,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. It really has.”

  He blew the eyelash away and she wondered if he’d made a wish—until she remembered that elves didn’t have silly superstitions like that.

  She probably shouldn’t either, but she went ahead and sent a silent plea into the universe.

  “You’re not still afraid of me, are you?” he asked. “You trust me?”

  She honestly didn’t know. So she offered him a shaky hand. “You tell me.”

  Keefe’s fingers curled around hers and his brow creased as he closed his eyes.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, his lips stretching into a glorious smile. “I knew I could count on you, Foster.”

  “Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I won’t. That’s why I came here today—I had to find a way to warn you. The Neverseen are planning something big. I don’t know any specifics yet, but I know it involves Grady and Edaline and—whoa, easy there.” He steadied her when her knees wobbled. “It’s going to be okay. See why I’m doing this? I can stop things before they get bad.”

  Sophie took a slow, deep breath, trying to remind herself that Grady’s ability as a Mesmer gave him an incredible advantage. She’d seen him make all twelve Councillors smack themselves in the face. He’d even made Brant burn off his own hand.