Lodestar Page 23

  Grady headed upstairs to his office and Edaline frowned as she turned back to Sophie. “Is there dirt in your hair?”

  Sophie almost smacked herself as she fumbled to remove it.

  Fitz did the same.

  Edaline’s frown deepened. “I thought you went to Alluveterre.”

  “Yeah,” Sophie mumbled. “But you know how muddy underground forests can be.”

  It might’ve been the lamest excuse in the entirety of elvin history. But Edaline let it go.

  “Well,” she said, “I’m assuming the odds of me convincing the two of you to relax for the rest of the afternoon are fairly slim. So I won’t waste my time. But I will make a fresh batch of ripplefluffs. And I’m going to insist you take a break and eat them.”

  “You won’t have to tell me twice,” Fitz said, flashing his famous grin. “And I’ll make sure Sophie takes a break too.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you.” Edaline’s teasing tone seemed to add meaning to the words, but Sophie didn’t feel like riddling out what she was implying.

  “So,” Fitz said, breaking the silence as they headed up the stairs to her room. “You’re still up for some trust exercises, right?”

  “I guess.”

  Fitz laughed. “You know, you’d dread them a lot less if you’d just tell me that secret you were going to share that time Keefe interrupted our training. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

  Sophie kept her face forward, hoping it hid her blush. For one very brief lapse in judgment, she’d almost told Fitz about her silly crush on him. Thankfully, she’d been spared the humiliation.

  “I wonder if I could guess,” he said as they passed the second floor.

  “I doubt it.”

  His obliviousness was both reliable and annoying.

  “Oh really?” He scooted past her, blocking her from the next step up. “Want me to try?”

  “I . . .” It was the only word she could get out before her voice dried up and crumbled away.

  Fitz grinned. “Maybe it would make it easier. That way you wouldn’t have to say it—assuming I guess right.”

  Easier.

  Harder.

  Possibly one huge disaster . . .

  Sophie swallowed, trying to choke down the lump that had wedged itself in her throat—but her voice still refused to rise past it.

  Maybe he saw the panic in her eyes.

  Or maybe he really did guess her secret.

  Either way, he backed up a step. “Sorry. It’s not fair to rush you—especially after everything we’ve been through today.”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, nudging her way past him and trying not to wonder if she’d just been rejected—now was not the time for such petty distractions.

  But her eyes still stung and her chest had a heavy, stretched-out feeling.

  “Hey,” Fitz said, catching up with her at the doorway to her room. “Did I say something wrong? It feels like I did—and I swear I didn’t mean to.”

  She turned toward her room, trying to find anything to trigger a subject change. And that was when she noticed the crushed parts in her flowered carpet.

  “Are those . . . ,” Fitz asked.

  “Footprints,” she whispered.

  Coming from her open window.

  Sophie ducked away from the door, pressing her back against the wall to stay out of sight and wishing Sandor was there to charge in with his deadly sword.

  Since he wasn’t, she stretched out her mind to search for nearby thoughts. “I don’t sense anyone else here, do you?”

  “No, it’s pretty quiet,” Fitz whispered.

  Almost too quiet—but that could be her paranoia getting the best of her. She could feel her fear straining against the knot under her ribs, and she slowed her breathing to keep control.

  “Wait—where are you going?” Fitz asked as she squared her shoulders and turned to march through her doorway.

  “How else are we going to find out why they were here?” she asked, proud of how steady her voice sounded.

  Nothing looked out of place—her desk drawers were still closed tight. Her clothes neatly hung in her closet. She followed the trail of footsteps to her bed, sucking in a breath when she took a longer look at her pillow.

  “I’m guessing Keefe made that,” Fitz said as she reached for the midnight blue bead that had been left in the center.

  She nodded, tracing her finger over the silver moonlark rendered in perfect detail.

  No one else could’ve painted it so intricately.

  And the eye shimmered with a temporary leaping crystal.

  If Sophie had any doubt about Keefe’s intentions, it was erased when she noticed two tiny words painted on the silver bird’s wings.

  Meet now.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  I’M GOING,” SOPHIE said in the same breath that Fitz asked, “What if it’s a trap?”

  “It’s not a trap—Keefe had to take a huge risk to come here and leave this.” She rolled the bead in her hand, feeling the cool weight of it.

  “The Neverseen could’ve made him do it,” Fitz argued. “We’re supposed to be finding out how far they’re pushing him. Pretty sure that means we shouldn’t be going along with a super-dangerous—and kinda creepy—command. I mean, who breaks into someone’s room and leaves a bead on their pillow, telling them to meet up without even explaining what’s going on?”

  “Someone who didn’t have a lot of time,” Sophie said—though secretly she did admit the whole thing had an evil-tooth-fairy vibe going on.

  “He couldn’t have left a note?” Fitz asked.

  “A note’s a lot harder to explain if anyone found him sneaking out with it. And maybe he didn’t want to waste time rummaging around my room for paper and a pen. All that matters is, he wouldn’t have gone to this kind of trouble if he didn’t have something important to tell me. Or he’s in danger and needs my help. Either way, I know it’s risky. I know I won’t find anyone who’ll tell me this is a good decision. But I’m going. And I understand if you don’t want—”

  “No way am I letting you go by yourself,” Fitz interrupted.

  “Letting me?”

  “Whoa—easy on the glaring. All I meant is, if you’re doing this, so am I. I’ll cling to your ankle as you leap away if I have to. But you realize we will get caught this time, right? Your parents know we’re here.”

  “Yeah . . . I should probably leave a note, that way they won’t freak out.”

  “I’m pretty sure the freak-out will be epic no matter what,” Fitz told her. “But I guess it’s still better to give some explanation.”

  Sophie dug a notebook and a pen from her Foxfire satchel and stared at the blank paper.

  What was she supposed to say?

  Found a leaping crystal from the Neverseen and decided to use it—don’t know where I’m going or when I’ll be back!

  That should go over really well.

  She brainstormed for another second, then went for short and sweet.

  Found a message from Keefe.

  Don’t worry—we’re being careful.

  “I guess that covers it,” Fitz said. “Though you should probably add, ‘Please don’t ground me for the rest of eternity.’ ”

  “Last chance to change your mind. I can handle myself.”

  “Oh, I know. I’m planning on hiding behind you if we end up facing anything scary. But we’re Cognates. We’re stronger together.”

  He flashed the initials side of his rings as he offered her his hand.

  She took it, leaving the note on her bed as she held Keefe’s bead up to the light and formed a wispy ghost of a path. “Any guesses where we’re going?”

  “My money’s on somewhere stinky.”

  The joke made it easier.

  So did reminding herself that they were going to see a friend.

  But Sophie’s knees still shook as she took the crucial step into the light, leaving their lives in Keefe’s hands.

  “I KNEW IT,” FITZ SAID, plugg
ing his nose and glaring at his feet, which had re-formed in a puddle of oily black swirled with iridescent blue. “Selkie skin. It liquefies as they shed it.”

  Sophie gagged.

  The sour-cheese smell coated her tongue, and the salty ocean air made it ten times worse. The whole beach was covered in the gunk—a maze of sludgy pools and slimy black rivulets trickling toward the white-capped waves. Jagged rocks jutted out of the frothy water, blanketed with sleek black creatures that looked part seal and part snake, with whiskered faces and long, coiled bodies.

  “I take it those are selkies?” Sophie asked as one of the bigger beasts raised its head and let out a barklike grunt.

  “Yep. I’m betting we’re in Blackwater Bay,” Fitz said. “Though I don’t remember the cliffs being this tall when my tutor brought me here. Or this green.”

  “That’s because this is Inktide Island,” a voice behind them corrected. “Which is much more private. Or it’s supposed to be. I didn’t realize I’d be getting Foster-plus-one.”

  They spun around to find Keefe wearing another long black cloak, leaning against a clump of weathered rocks in the middle of the beach. The white eye symbol on his sleeves was almost as troubling as his casual smirk.

  “So does this mean you guys are a thing now?” Keefe asked. “The inseparable Sophitz? Or did you decide to go with Fitzphie?”

  “Dude, this is so not the time for jokes,” Fitz said.

  “Huh, that’s pretty much what Foster told me when she first saw me at Foxfire. Do you finish each other’s sentences now too?”

  “Keefe—we’re serious,” Sophie said.

  “Oh, I know. Fitz is giving me his ‘I’m so serious’ scowl. And you’re hitting me with a whole mess of emotions.” He waved his hands through the air and his smile faded. “You’re back to not trusting me again? I know I was wrong about my warning—but wasn’t that a good thing?”

  “You think it’s good that someone got tortured?” Fitz snapped.

  All the color drained from Keefe’s face. “Wait . . . what?”

  “You don’t know?” Sophie asked.

  “No—I swear. Was it Dex? Please tell me it wasn’t Dex. Or Biana? Or Linh?”

  His voice cracked with each name.

  “They’re all fine,” Sophie said. “It was—”

  “We’re not telling you anything until we search your memories,” Fitz interrupted. “We need to make sure you weren’t involved.”

  Keefe rolled his eyes. “Would I be here if I was?”

  “Yeah, if this is a trap,” Fitz said.

  “Right, I forgot.” Keefe turned to shout at the empty beach. “They’re on to us, guys. Go ahead and attack.”

  Silence—aside from barking selkies.

  “Oh, that’s right—there’s no one here except me! And do you have any idea how hard it was to get away?”

  “How’d you do it?” Sophie asked.

  “Don’t let him sidetrack you,” Fitz jumped in. “We need to stick to the plan. Like Tam said—”

  “Ugh, I should’ve known Bangs Boy was part of this,” Keefe interrupted. “Let me guess, he’s still bitter because I wouldn’t let him take that stupid reading?”

  “Uh, have you seen what you’re wearing?” Fitz asked.

  Keefe gripped his sleeves, trying to cover the Neverseen symbols. “It’s. A. Costume.”

  “Prove it,” Fitz said.

  “And what happens if I say no? Are you planning to go all Cognate power on me?”

  “Just give us five minutes,” Sophie begged. “Five minutes to make sure we know what’s really going on. If you’d seen what they did to Wylie . . .”

  Keefe fell back a step. “They hurt Wylie?”

  “ ‘Hurt’ is putting it nicely,” Fitz said. “They drugged him, dragged him out of his room, and burned him over and over.”

  Gulls circled high above as Keefe watched the sky. “He’ll be okay, right?”

  “Physic is working on him now,” Sophie whispered. “She can heal all of his wounds. Not so sure about the mental trauma.”

  Keefe looked green as he turned to pace. “Did they let him go? Or did he get away?”

  “He got away,” Sophie said.

  “Wow—someone’s going to be in big trouble.”

  “That’s what you care about?” Fitz asked, shaking sludge off his shoes as he stalked closer.

  “Hey—I have to think about what it’s going to be like when I go back there. You would too, if you were in my position.”

  “I would never be in your position,” Fitz argued.

  “Yeah, you’re better at taking the easy way.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. It’s . . . whatever.” Keefe’s eyes made their way back to the sky. “Did Wylie see who grabbed him?”

  “Sorta,” Sophie said. “He felt an invisible hand tear off his pendant, and he got trapped in a force field, so that has to be Alvar and Ruy. But he also suspected there were two others.”

  “I’m assuming you thought one of them was me?”

  “Can you blame us?” Fitz asked.

  “You? No.” Keefe’s eyes focused on Sophie. “But I told you, I won’t cross the hard lines.”

  “You never said what the lines are, though,” she whispered. “And I know how desperate you are to make this work.”

  “So you thought . . .” He choked back the rest of the words.

  “If you’d known they were going after Wylie,” Fitz said, his voice barely audible over the rolling waves, “would you have stopped them?”

  “I would’ve told you guys, so the Black Swan could handle it. Just like I did with Grady and Edaline.”

  “But what if we couldn’t get to him?” Fitz pressed. “Would you have blown your cover?”

  Keefe hesitated—only a second, but it was enough.

  “You don’t get it,” he argued. “These are people who torture someone just because they want something! People who infect an entire species with a disease just to get their way! They have a network that stretches way farther than you could ever imagine. I’ve only seen a tiny piece of it, and it’s seriously terrifying. I can’t fight it without making some hard calls!”

  “Well, I hope it’s worth it,” Fitz snapped.

  “So do I.” Keefe’s shoulders slumped with the confession, like his body wanted to retreat.

  Salty wind whipped around them, and Sophie choked down the selkie stink. “Do you have any idea who the other two kidnappers would’ve been? Wylie thought one was a Guster. And he heard them say the other was keeping the path open.”

  Keefe brushed sand out of his hair. “The Guster would be Trix. So that probably means the other was Umber, since I got the impression that she and Trix work together a lot. Those aren’t their real names. I met some of the members a few days ago, but no one would tell me who they really are—and they all kept their hoods up so I couldn’t see them.”

  “So they still don’t trust you,” Sophie noted.

  “Not completely. But Fintan doesn’t trust anyone completely. Everyone only gets to know a tiny piece of his plans, and he only gives each person a single task for every mission. That way, everyone’s expendable.”

  “That’s pretty terrifying,” Sophie mumbled, “considering what he did to your mom.”

  Keefe shrugged.

  “Are they making any progress on their promise to rescue her?” she asked.

  “Don’t know, don’t care. I assumed they were lying when they offered that. Look at how they’ve abandoned Gethen. He’s been a prisoner for how many months now? And do you see them trying to get him back?”

  “They tried at first,” Sophie reminded him. “Until Squall froze off his fingernails. And now he’s in Lumenaria, which is apparently impossible to break into.”

  “Maybe, but I’ve never once heard them talk about getting him back. And when I asked Alvar about it, he said, ‘Gethen is where he belongs.’ ”

  Fitz and Sophie shared a look.


  “What? Are you guys planning to visit him again?”

  “We’re working on it,” Sophie said.

  “Well . . . I wouldn’t get my hopes up. They want him locked away. I’m guessing that means he’s useless.”

  “I hope you’re wrong,” Sophie said quietly. “He’s pretty much the only plan we have.”

  “Uh, hello—you have me. I know I got a few details wrong yesterday—but I’m still working on getting Fintan’s cache. I will get him to trust me.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Sophie mumbled. “Trust never comes free.”

  “Maybe not. But I know what I’m willing to pay. I have my limits. I won’t push them.”

  “That’d be a lot easier to believe if you’d show us what you’re doing with them every day,” Fitz said.

  Keefe opened his mouth to argue, then focused on Sophie. “You really need to know, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  A wave crashed against the rocks, making the selkies bark so loudly it nearly drowned out Keefe’s next words. “I’ll give you five minutes to look around my memories—but Wonderboy has to sit this one out.”

  “Since when do you only trust her?” Fitz asked.

  “Since she doesn’t look ready to punch me. So that’s the deal.” He offered his hand for a handshake.

  Sophie stepped forward to take it, scowling when her shoe splashed in one of the inky puddles. “Lovely place you picked, by the way.”

  “Hey, I told you my next plan for sneaking away involved lots of selkie skin.”

  “You did. I just didn’t realize you were serious.”

  “I’m always serious, Foster. Especially when you think I’m teasing.” He cleared his throat, not quite holding her stare. “Remember—five minutes. Then we drop this.”

  She reached for his temples and he flinched at her touch.

  “Dude, are you blushing?” Fitz asked.

  “Only because I can feel what Foster’s feeling,” Keefe snapped back.

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m not feeling anything.”

  Or maybe she was feeling too much.