Nightfall Page 3

  “I don’t know,” Sophie admitted, hating how complicated the whole mess was. “But erasing their minds doesn’t feel like the right answer anymore.”

  Alden leaned back in his chair. “No. I suppose it doesn’t. But this isn’t the time for us to be figuring these things out. Right now there’s an eleven-year-old girl in the next room who’s just discovered that everything she knew about the world is wrong. You remember how that feels—and you didn’t have the added trauma of watching your parents be abducted. She needs someone to help her understand what’s happening. And I need you to convince her that this apartment is the perfect place for her to be—because it is. Tell her you’ll visit when you can, but that you’ll also be busy working to find her parents and bring them back to her safely.”

  “You really think she’s going to agree to sit around while I hunt for my family?”

  “She won’t have a choice, given the limitations of her species. And do you honestly want her in that kind of danger?”

  No.

  Especially if Keefe’s mom was involved.

  “Perhaps if you help your sister to understand exactly how vicious the Neverseen can be, she’ll be grateful for the safe hiding place,” Alden suggested.

  “Right, because hearing that the people you love are in danger always makes you want to do nothing.”

  Alden sighed. “I never said this would be easy. But I have the utmost confidence that you’ll find a way to convince her. Please, Sophie,” he added when she opened her mouth to argue. “I know you’ve gotten out of the habit of turning to me for help. But you used to trust me to handle things like this. I put a lot of thought into the best solution for both you and your sister. She cannot light leap safely. Cannot defend herself. Cannot even fully grasp the intricacies of our daily lives—not to mention that her very presence in our world is illegal. All she’ll do is slow you down, limit where you can go and how you can travel, and give you one more—very vulnerable—person to protect. And your time is already going to be strained between school and—”

  “School?” Sophie interrupted. “You think we won’t have this settled before school starts?”

  “I . . . think it’s wise to prepare for the long term—just in case.”

  She wrapped her arms around her stomach to fight the rush of nausea. “I’m not going back to Foxfire while my family’s missing.”

  “I think that would be a mistake. Your education has been interfered with enough, between your banishment and this midterm break extension—not to mention all the time you’ve missed in order to recover from your various injuries. And Foxfire is going to be on an accelerated curriculum when it resumes, so each day will be even more crucial. I promise, while you’re at school, others—including myself—will be hard at work looking for your family, or doing whatever else needs to be done to resist the Neverseen. That’s the advantage to being part of an order. Everyone in the Black Swan has other facets to their lives, and they trust others in the organization to take up the reins while they tend to them. You and your friends are no different. But let’s not argue about it until we’re to that point—if we get to that point, okay? Can we agree that in the meantime, the responsible thing to do is to keep your sister here, where she’ll be safe, hidden, and cared for?”

  Once again, he’d made a bunch of annoyingly valid points. And there had to be ways to visit her sister more often than he was saying. Maybe she could—

  “I see those mental wheels still spinning,” Alden interrupted. “And if you find an alternative solution, I’m open to suggestions. But for now, our focus needs to be on convincing your sister that as long as she stays here, everything is going to be okay.”

  “But what if it isn’t? What if my parents . . . ?”

  She couldn’t say the rest.

  Alden leaned closer, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We both know I can’t promise that there won’t be challenges ahead. But I can promise that whatever happens, you’re strong enough to handle it.”

  Sophie knew he meant the speech to reassure her. And it did help a little. Except . . .

  “Sometimes I get sick of being strong.”

  “I don’t blame you. You’ve endured more in these last few years than most of the Ancients have in their long lives. And it’s forced you to grow up far too soon and shoulder responsibilities no one your age should ever need to bear. I can’t tell you to keep fighting, but . . . the only alternative is giving up, and—”

  “And then they win.” Sophie finished for him.

  She stared at the swan’s neck curving around her monocle and reminded herself of the oath she’d sworn in order to earn it.

  I will do everything in my power to help my world.

  “Where exactly are we?” she asked, switching to a subject that didn’t make breathing feel impossible.

  “Of all the places you can think of, where would be the most naturally suited to house a human? Hint: It’s also in a city that the Council rarely visits because it’s such a tedious process to access.”

  “You brought us to Atlantis?”

  “Yes—and the cat did not enjoy the journey.”

  Sophie had to smile at that, imagining Alden holding Marty’s thrashing body while sliding down a gigantic whirlpool to the bottom of the ocean. No wonder his sleeves were shredded!

  The elves had originally built Atlantis to serve as the union between the elvin and human worlds—a place where both species could live together and learn from one another. But several thousand years ago, the humans started planning a war to take over, and the Ancient elvin Council decided the smartest solution would be to disappear. So, they sank the city with a massive tidal wave and shielded it inside a dome of air, letting it thrive in secret under the water while humans forgot that elves were real.

  “You really think it’s a good idea to hide my sister in the middle of a city?” Sophie asked, remembering the crowded streets and bustling canals she’d seen during her visits.

  “So long as she remains here, no one will be able to find her.”

  Sophie stared at the windowless walls again. They were shimmery and smooth and actually quite pretty. But the room still felt like a prison.

  “It’s a big apartment,” Alden promised. “And it’s filled with all kinds of luxuries to keep her as comfortable as possible. I also took the liberty of packing some of her human things before I brought her here.”

  “But what is she going to do all day?”

  “Whatever she wishes. She’ll have her guardians. And her pets. And she’ll have an Imparter, so that you can check in with each other whenever you want. I’ve also arranged to bring in a supply of books and games to entertain her. And Quinlin and Livvy have been working on a schedule to educate her about the complicated history between elves and humans.”

  Fun as that sounded . . .

  Sophie was about to voice the complaint when she recognized one of the names.

  “Quinlin Sonden? The Telepath you brought me to see in Atlantis the day I moved to the Lost Cities?”

  Alden nodded. “This is technically his apartment, though his official address lists him as living on the fiftieth floor. He built this place—as well as the restricted level you might remember seeing at his office—so he could better assist me with projects that needed to be kept away from prying eyes. No one will protect your sister as faithfully as Quinlin will. And his role as Chief Mentalist will also allow him to watch the Council for signs that they might suspect something.”

  “But what if my sister feels weird living with some strange guy she’s never met? Especially since I don’t remember Quinlin being very . . . cuddly.”

  Gleeful laughter rang out behind her, and Sophie turned to find an elegant black female standing in the narrow arched doorway, clutching her sides as she cracked up. She needed several gasping breaths before her voice was working well enough to say, “No, that’s definitely not a word I’d use to describe my husband.”

  “You mean ex-husband,
don’t you, Livvy?” a sharp voice corrected from the hall.

  Livvy’s smile faded as she stepped aside to let Quinlin stride into the room. He looked exactly as Sophie remembered him—dark skin, shoulder length black hair, and sharp features to match his expression. Still insanely handsome—as all elves were. But everything about him seemed serious.

  “Actually, I never made the ‘ex’ official,” Livvy retorted, tossing several of the tiny braids woven throughout her hair. “I didn’t feel like dealing with the drama. So unless you decided to file the match-fail on your own, you’re still legally stuck with me.”

  It sounded like they were talking about divorce—which Sophie didn’t realize existed in the Lost Cities. The elves relied on an incredibly strict matchmaking system, where any couples that disobeyed were branded a “bad match” and faced scorn for the rest of their lives—and so did their children. It was one of the few ways that the elves were deeply prejudiced. They didn’t care about wealth or skin color. But bad matches—and the Talentless—were considered a disgrace, despite how unfair and arbitrary the distinctions were.

  Quinlin let out the kind of sigh that made his whole body droop as he turned to Alden. “I still think it’s a mistake to involve Livvy. I can handle this—”

  “Well now, what was that? Thirty seconds?” Livvy interrupted. “That’s all it took to get to, I can do everything myself ? And the mystery of why I left is solved!”

  “And you barely made it thirty seconds before picking a fight,” Quinlin snapped back. “Now you know why I never chased after you.”

  Livvy’s eyes narrowed. “If I’d wanted to be chased, you can bet you’d be begging at my heels.”

  Alden cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should save this conversation for when you two are alone?”

  “We won’t be alone,” Livvy informed him. “I’ll be living up here and he’ll be living downstairs and the only time we’ll be together is when we’re with the girl.”

  “She has a name,” Sophie said, even though she wasn’t sure if her sister wanted to be called Natalie or Amy. “And is this what it’s going to be like for her? Being trapped in this apartment listening to you guys snipe at each other all the time?”

  “No,” Alden, Quinlin, and Livvy all promised as one.

  “I’m sorry,” Livvy added. “It’s strange being back after so many years. But Quinlin and I have lots of practice at pretending things between us are normal.”

  “And . . . I suppose Livvy will make your sister feel much more at home than I can,” Quinlin said quietly. “She’ll also be able to keep her company when I have to work.”

  “And vice versa,” Livvy added. “Though I’ll be doing most of my work here. I’m planning to do a full detox on your sister to rid her body of all those human chemicals. And I’ll give her a thorough checkup as well.”

  “Are you a physician?” Sophie asked, remembering how Elwin had done similar things to her when she first moved to the Lost Cities. And something about Livvy’s answering smile set her mind itching.

  The connection finally clicked when Livvy tossed her braids again, revealing tiny blue jewels twinkling among the tight weave. Sophie sucked in a breath. “You’re Physic!”

  Three

  I’D WONDERED HOW long it would take you to put it together,” Livvy—Physic—said as she patted Sophie on the head. “Though, to be fair, my disguise was pretty minimal.”

  Physic was known for wearing colorful Mardi Gras–style masks that only covered the top of her face—way easier to see past than the bizarre full-body camouflage the rest of the Black Swan hid behind. And yet, as Sophie studied Livvy’s full lips and softly rounded nose, she doubted she would’ve recognized her if it hadn’t been for the way she kept tossing her sparkly braided hair.

  “Wait,” Quinlin interrupted. “Who’s Physic?”

  “I believe she’s the Physician who works with the Black Swan,” Alden said, studying Livvy from a different angle.

  Quinlin went very still. “You’re with the Black Swan?”

  Sophie couldn’t tell if Livvy looked nervous or proud as she told him, “Surprise?”

  Silence followed, stretching so long that it went from uncomfortable to suffocating.

  “Well, this is definitely a twist I hadn’t anticipated,” Alden eventually said. “But the Black Swan has proven time and again to be masterfully unpredictable. And . . . I owe you a tremendous debt, Livvy, for saving my son’s life.”

  Fitz had been impaled by a giant bug’s antennae during the Black Swan’s less-than-perfect prison break into Exile. If Physic hadn’t sealed the wound—and helped Fitz purge the venom from his system—he never would’ve survived.

  “No debt at all,” Livvy assured him. “I was just doing my job.”

  “And how long have you been doing that job for?” Quinlin demanded.

  Livvy’s smile faded, and she squared her shoulders. “Okay, if you really want to do this . . . I swore fealty about a year after you and I were married. And that bulging vein right there”—she pointed to his forehead—“is why I never told you.”

  “I have a right to be upset that I’ve been lied to for”—he counted on his fingers—“nearly eighteen years!” He sank into the nearest chair, covering his face with his shaky hands. “Eighteen years.”

  “I’ve always wondered if some part of you suspected,” Livvy said quietly. “Apparently not.”

  Quinlin’s laugh was so cold, it left goose bumps on Sophie’s skin.

  “Eighteen years,” Alden repeated. “You must’ve been one of their founders.”

  “Actually, the Black Swan has been around far longer than anyone realizes,” Livvy told him. “But Forkle brought me in to help with Project Moonlark and—”

  “You were part of Project Moonlark?” both Alden and Quinlin interrupted.

  “You knew that, right?” Livvy asked Sophie.

  “I guess I should’ve assumed.” Sophie had known that Physic had once been a member of the Black Swan’s Collective. And she’d known that Physic had helped the Black Swan heal her abilities after she’d faded. Physic had even slipped once and revealed that she’d been involved with the mysterious allergic reaction that Sophie had when she was nine—but Sophie still didn’t know exactly what happened that day. Mr. Forkle had erased the memory and never given it back.

  “You were truly part of the project?” Quinlin murmured, staring at Livvy as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

  “Forkle wanted my medical expertise,” Livvy explained. “Not that I knew much about modifying genetics. But he did most of that with Calla.”

  Another name that punched Sophie right in the heart.

  Calla had been one of the gnomes living in Alluveterre, and she’d chosen to sacrifice her life to save her people from the deadly plague the Neverseen and ogres unleashed. All that was left of Calla now was a beautiful tree—called a Panakes—growing in the Havenfield pastures, blooming with the same pinkish, purplish, bluish blossoms that Sophie had in her pockets. Ever since she’d lost Mr. Forkle, she’d kept a handful of the healing flowers with her at all times. It probably wouldn’t have saved him, but she’d forever wish she’d had the chance to try.

  “My role was preparing Sophie’s embryo for implantation in her human mother,” Livvy continued, “and making sure her mother’s body would accept the baby as though it were her own.”

  Sophie squirmed. The way Livvy talked about the process made her feel like she was some sort of alien spawn.

  “Why did you choose my parents?” she asked, remembering what her sister had heard the Neverseen say. “Was there something special about them?”

  “Yes, and no. They were special because they weren’t special, if that makes sense. We needed you to keep a low profile in the human world, so we searched for a family who didn’t seem like the type to use your intelligence or beauty for their advantage. They also had to be kind, loving people who would provide a safe, healthy home. And Mr. Forkle especially l
iked your mother’s mistrust of human medicine, since that meant she’d be less likely to ply you with those chemicals as you grew up.”

  “And that’s it—there weren’t any other reasons you picked them?” Sophie pressed.

  “If there were, Forkle kept them to himself. Why?” Livvy asked.

  “It might be important. Is there anyone else in the Collective who would know?”

  “. . . Maybe.”

  Sophie didn’t miss Livvy’s hesitation.

  But Alden was focused on a much bigger revelation. “So . . . you knew Prentice was innocent when I arrested him?”

  Livvy closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  The word was barely a breath, but it seemed to reverberate off the walls, shaking the room—the apartment—the entire world—to its very core.

  Because Prentice’s arrest had changed everything.

  Prentice had been a Keeper for the Black Swan, in charge of protecting their most valuable secrets—the most important of which had been Sophie’s existence. And back then, the few elves who knew about the Black Swan had believed that the shadowy organization was run by villains. So when Alden discovered Prentice’s involvement, he had him arrested and brought before the Council. The Councillors ordered a memory break—a brutal method of extracting memories by telepathically shattering the person’s sanity—and assigned Quinlin and Alden to perform the task. They both gave Prentice a final chance to cooperate, but Prentice held firm, letting them turn him into a babbling, drooling mess in order to keep Sophie hidden. And Quinlin and Alden had spent the next twelve years scouring the human world to find her, while Prentice spent the same years locked away in Exile as his wife was murdered and his son had to be adopted and raised by Tiergan.

  “How could you not tell me?” Alden demanded. “How could you let me arrest him?”

  “We didn’t know you’d caught on to Prentice until it was too late,” Livvy said quietly. “Even when he called swan song, I thought it had something to do with what he was investigating, not that he was about to be arrested.”