Flashback Page 6

  “Have you ever seen pictures of what the original house looked like?” she asked.

  “No. But my dad said it was small and boring. That’s why he tore it down. He’d met my mom and wanted to impress her.”

  “So he built her a palace?” Grizel asked, glancing at Sandor. “Sounds like I should have Alden give you some pointers.”

  Sandor crossed his arms. “My home is more than adequate.”

  “Oh, ‘more than adequate.’ Now there’s an epic love poem if I’ve ever heard one,” Grizel retorted, but she had to be teasing. Sophie had stayed at Sandor’s house after the ogre attack at Havenfield, and it was huge—and built almost entirely of gold.

  “Did your dad ever say why he kept Everglen’s office and tore down everything else?” Sophie asked Fitz.

  “I think it was because of the aquarium. It goes way deeper than it looks, and they would’ve had to move all the creatures living down there.”

  “Is it normal to have something like that in a house?”

  “I want to say yes—but I’m basing that mostly on some of my relatives’ houses, so who knows?”

  “And Vackers never do anything arbitrarily,” Sophie murmured, remembering what Fallon had said. “What do you know about Luzia?”

  “Not much more than you do. She’s a famous Flasher, but she’s mostly known for being Orem’s mom.”

  “And Fallon’s sister,” Sophie added. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Fitz grinned. “Probably because they don’t look like each other.”

  “Yeah, not at all.” Fallon’s skin was so pale he was almost translucent, while Luzia looked like some sort of Egyptian goddess.

  Fitz leaned closer and whispered, “It’s because they have different dads.”

  Sophie shouldn’t have gasped, since stepfamilies were super common among humans. But death was incredibly rare in the Lost Cities—and divorce seemed to be even rarer—so she had to ask, “What happened?”

  “I don’t actually know. It’s one of those Ancient scandals my relatives like to pretend never happened. Just like I’m sure they want to do with Alvar.” He kicked the sand again. “Did you hear them today? They hate us.”

  “I don’t think they hate you. But even if they do . . . do you really care?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Sophie shrugged. “It’s not like you see them very often.”

  “No, but they’re still my family. And they’re not the only ones bothered by my brother. You’ve seen what it’s been like at school—and this is going to make it a million times worse. I know I shouldn’t care, but . . .”

  His gaze dropped to his feet as he kicked the side of his shoe. “The thing is . . . I like being a Vacker—or I did until all of this happened. I know you’re probably going to think I’m a jerk for admitting that, but . . . I like knowing I’m part of a huge legacy—and not whatever creepy legacy Alvar was talking about that has Biana all freaked out. The name’s always felt like proof that I’d do something important someday. But now I’m pretty sure the only thing anyone’s going to remember about me is that I’m the brother of a murderer.”

  “That’s not true. I’ll always remember that you found me and brought me to the Lost Cities and showed me where I really belong. And that you came when I called for help and saved me from fading away. And that you left everything behind to go with me when I joined the Black Swan. Need me to keep going? Because I can.”

  His smile really was a beautiful thing.

  But it didn’t last.

  “None of that’s like . . . world changing, though,” he mumbled, staring at the orangey clouds.

  It had been for her—but saying that felt too sappy. And he obviously didn’t care. So she told him, “It will be when we take down the Neverseen. You’re still with me on that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then we need a plan—and Fallon gave me an idea. I think we should search Everglen ourselves, to make sure the Council doesn’t miss anything. I know Luzia said Vespera never went to the house, but I don’t like that they knew each other. And I couldn’t help feeling like she was hiding something, you know?” When Fitz agreed, she added, “Of course . . . it’s going to be a lot harder to search the property if you’re refusing to go back there.”

  “Ha—you walked right into that one,” Grizel told him.

  “I’m not trying to trick you,” Sophie promised. “If you don’t want to go back until Alvar’s gone, that’s your call.”

  “He’s never going to be gone!” he snapped, kicking up another cloud of red dust. “They’re building him an apartment! And you already heard the garbage Alvar’s spewing out, about how he wants to help the rebellion and prove himself worthy.” He mimed gagging. “We both know how this is going to end. In six months, the Council’s going to sentence him to stay there permanently, and we’re all going to be expected to act like nothing ever happened.”

  “You may be right,” Sophie had to admit. “But if you are . . . don’t you think there’s a reason people say ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”

  Fitz closed his eyes. “Probably. But I don’t know if I can stomach watching my parents fall for his ‘I’m so innocent’ act. I bet you anything, by the Celestial Festival he’ll be back living in the main house.”

  “How soon is that?” Keeping track of dates in the Lost Cities was impossible. Plus, the festival only happened on total lunar eclipses.

  “A little less than three months. So, basically half of Alvar’s little testing period. I guarantee that’s all it’ll take for him to win everyone over—even Biana. And I just . . . I can’t even think about it without wanting to punch everyone.”

  “I get that. And I promise, I’m not trying to talk you into going back home or doing anything you don’t think you can handle. Just . . . please don’t get mad at me if I go back without you, okay? Searching Everglen’s the first lead we’ve gotten since Keefe’s mom disappeared with Vespera—and it may end up being nothing. But at least it’s something worth looking into.”

  Fitz turned back to face her. “I’m not going to get mad at you, Sophie—especially over my jerk of a brother. And . . . if you’re going to search my house, I’ll be right there with you.”

  “Just to visit?” Grizel jumped in. “Because even though you haven’t asked my opinion—a foolish oversight, by the way—I’m also in camp It’s Smarter to Keep an Eye on Your Creepy Brother. Alvar won’t get away with anything on my watch. But I can’t be there to supervise if you’re off sulking.”

  Fitz dragged out a sigh as he scraped his toe across the sand. “I guess I can try staying there and see how it goes—but if I do . . . I’m going to need your help with something,” he told Sophie.

  “Anything,” she promised.

  He stepped closer, a new intensity brightening his eyes. “I don’t believe Alvar’s memories are gone. Memories don’t just disappear.”

  “Sometimes they do,” she reminded him. “Damel was able to permanently erase me from my human parents’ minds.”

  “Only because you were there to enhance him. Plus, humans don’t shield their thoughts the way we do.”

  “True.” Sophie had suffered horrible headaches from the moment she’d manifested as a Telepath. “But we’ve checked Alvar’s mind. You and I tried for hours, remember?”

  “I know.” Fitz lowered his eyes, twisting the verdigris thumb rings that matched the pair he’d given her. “But, we haven’t kept up with our training, you know? And I’m not blaming you for that—we’ve had a ton of stuff to deal with. But now that things have calmed down . . . we need to get back to it. It might be the only way to find anything hidden in Alvar’s head.”

  Sophie wanted to argue so badly.

  But he had a point—and it made her eyelashes itch like crazy. Because Cognate training was about so much more than practicing telepathy.

  Cognates weren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other.

  Any secr
ets.

  Which meant Cognate training involved lots of trust exercises.

  And that was a problem, since Sophie had one secret she really, really, really, really, really didn’t want to share.

  “You said we’d start training again once we found your human parents,” Fitz reminded her gently. “And . . . you said this time we wouldn’t hold anything back.”

  “You remember that, huh?” she asked, trying to smile. “I’d been hoping you wouldn’t.”

  She’d made the promise while reeling from the discovery that Mr. Forkle had spent his entire life lying to everyone about the fact that he had an identical twin brother, because multiple births were looked down upon in the Lost Cities. In that moment, secrets had felt exhausting and pointless—and confessing her crush on him hadn’t seemed nearly so scary.

  But afterward she’d definitely wondered what she’d been thinking.

  “I figured,” Fitz told her. “That’s why I haven’t brought it up. But . . . I need to know that I’ve tried everything I can to stop what’s happening with my brother—because I know something’s happening. And I can’t do this without you.”

  Sophie took a slow, deep breath, letting the words settle into her head. They had a weight to them. A truth—bigger than any embarrassment or hurt feelings her secret might cause.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “We’ll train as much as we can.”

  Fitz’s shoulders sagged with relief. “When?”

  She could tell he wanted the answer to be very, very soon. But she needed a little time to mentally prepare for that conversation.

  “A couple of days?” she tried.

  “How about tomorrow?” he countered.

  She closed her eyes, wondering if her stomach was turning inside out. But stalling was probably only going to prolong her misery.

  “Tomorrow,” she agreed, barely managing to choke out the word.

  Fitz’s answering smile was full movie-star mode, which somehow made her feel better and worse. Same thing happened when he reached for her hands.

  “It’s not going to be scary,” he promised. “There’s nothing you can tell me that’s going to change anything between us, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Her voice was gone at that point—her brain was too busy trying to imagine how he was going to react.

  Would he cringe?

  Laugh?

  Run away screaming?

  Most likely he’d just get super fidgety and mumble about how he’d always thought of her like a little sister. And if he did . . . she was going to have to find a way to live with that.

  If Dex could get past the way she’d rejected him, surely she could put any hurt aside too.

  And yet . . . a tiny part of her brain couldn’t help reminding her about all the sweet gifts Fitz had given her over the last few months, and those moments under Calla’s Panakes tree, where it almost felt like maybe Fitz was going to—

  “That’s weird,” Fitz said, interrupting all of those silly, silly thoughts.

  He pointed to her shadow, which was . . . moving.

  So was his.

  And Sandor’s.

  And Grizel’s.

  Each of the four dark shapes kept stretching longer and longer and longer.

  “What’s happening?” Sophie asked as they stumbled back.

  “You can’t guess?” a sickeningly familiar voice said behind them—a voice Sophie hadn’t heard since the Lumenaria dungeon.

  Gethen.

  She whipped around right as Sandor and Grizel charged toward three figures striding out of one of the caverns in black hooded cloaks with the white eye symbol of the Neverseen on their sleeves.

  Then the world went dark.

  FIVE

  SOPHIE WASN’T UNCONSCIOUS.

  There were no sweet sedatives burning her nose.

  No fuzzy thoughts or foggy dreams.

  But everything was black—and when she reached to remove whatever cover must’ve been thrown over her face, all she felt was her own skin.

  “Still haven’t figured it out?” Gethen asked, his tone dripping with icy amusement. “How unfortunate.”

  Sandor snarled.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Gethen asked as Sophie raised her arm to fling the throwing star she was still holding. “You might hit something you’ll regret—though it’d be entertaining to watch.”

  It sounded like Gethen’s vision wasn’t impaired, which meant the darkness was somehow selective—and with that realization, Sophie finally pieced together what must be happening.

  Keefe had told her that the Neverseen had a freakishly powerful Shade among their ranks—a female called Umber, who must be flooding their minds with shadows.

  Which meant there was only one way to get them out of this.

  Sorry, brace yourselves, she transmitted to Sandor, Grizel, and Fitz—letting her fear and fury crackle through her veins as her knotted emotions unraveled. Mental energy fueled the storm until hints of red lit the edges of her darkened vision, and a primal scream slipped through her lips as she blasted the force from her mind.

  Rage spiraled like a hurricane, tearing down everything in its path. But when the tempest faded, Sophie could hear the soft clicking of a tongue.

  “Such a pity,” Gethen said. “You have so much potential, Sophie. But you rely on the same predictable defenses—though it does make our job easier. Look at how well you’ve handled your mighty guards.”

  The sound of snapping fingers brought back her vision, leaving Sophie squinting through tear-blurred eyes at where Sandor, Grizel, and Fitz had collapsed in the sand, limbs thrashing and faces scrunched with agony.

  All three members of the Neverseen were perfectly fine.

  “We came prepared,” Gethen explained, tossing back his hood and pointing to the fitted hat made of shimmering chain mail that covered most of his blond hair. “You know how well these block your little mind tricks. And in case you’ve manifested something we don’t know about, let’s get you more contained, shall we? Though I’m pretty sure the only ability you’re hiding has to do with those gloves.”

  Sophie was so thrown by the fact that he seemed to know about her enhancing ability that it took her a second to catch his threat—and another to realize she was still holding a throwing star. By then, the figure on Gethen’s left had raised his arms and trapped her in a glowing white force field.

  Panic bubbled up her throat as three more domes of energy appeared, imprisoning Sandor, Fitz, and Grizel. But she choked it down, knowing the best thing she could do was feign confidence. Make them wonder why she wasn’t freaking out.

  “I guess I’m not the only predictable one,” she said, taking a steadying breath as she stared down the cloaked figure that had to be Ruy. “How many times have you played the force field card now?”

  “Why stop if you keep falling for it?” Ruy countered, his voice every bit as familiar as it was nauseating.

  She shrugged, trying to channel Keefe’s snark—which was easier than she’d expected. All she had to do was look at the crooked line of Gethen’s nose and remember how good it had felt to deck him with the full strength of her Sucker Punch.

  “I like it in here,” she told him. “It means I don’t have to smell you guys while you give your boring speech. That’s what you’re here for, right? If you didn’t want to talk, you would’ve drugged me by now. So let’s get on with it, okay?”

  Gethen’s piercing blue eyes twinkled. “This is why I enjoy our little chats. It’s always so adorable watching you play tough while you try to trick information out of me. You’re attempting to break into my head right now, aren’t you? Slamming that strange telepathy of yours against the force field, hoping you’ll be able to sneak into my mind and dig out all of our secrets? But even if I took my hat off, you’re not strong enough without the Vacker boy, are you?” He nudged his chin toward Fitz—who, thankfully, looked less pained than he had a few seconds earlier. “And you’d both need your little
Shade to help. Pity he’s not here.”

  Unfortunately, he was right.

  Tam’s shadows were the only thing that had ever broken through Ruy’s force fields.

  Well . . . unless Sophie wanted to use the trick that Biana had discovered when they’d first clashed with Ruy in the Neutral Territories. The monocle pendants that the Black Swan gave them when they swore fealty had a special lens set into the curve of dark metal. And when Biana hurled hers into the force field that Ruy had been hiding behind, the energy hit the glass and exploded, covering Ruy in white flames.

  If Sophie tried the same method now, she’d be the one showered with fire. And she’d have to take out three members of the Neverseen by herself with only one throwing star.

  She’d call that plan B.

  Not that plan A sounded a whole lot better.

  Her panic-switch ring was carefully hidden under her glove, and if she pressed the center stone, it would send Dex an alert and allow him to track her. She hated using it, because it meant asking him to risk his life—but she knew he’d tell her that that’s what he’d designed it for.

  And he’d have his bodyguard with him.

  But . . . Dex and Lovise would still be outnumbered—and totally unprepared, since the ring didn’t let her warn them about what they’d be facing. She’d have to suggest that as an upgrade.

  Assuming they survived . . .

  “You’ve gone quiet,” Gethen noted. “Beginning to grasp the gravity of your situation? Or are you still trying to think of a way out? Or maybe you’re realizing that if you’d used the weapon you’re holding when you first saw us, you would’ve had a better chance than you did with your pathetic inflicting.”

  “Actually, I’m waiting for you to tell me what you want,” she said, pressing the center of her ring before she could change her mind.

  There was no way to know if the signal was strong enough to transmit through the force field, but she had to believe that it would—and she had to try to stall until Dex and Lovise got there.

  “Or, wait, am I supposed to guess?” she asked. “Let’s see. . . .”

  She closed her eyes, pressing two fingers against one of her temples and pretending to read his mind. “You’re here because you’ve finally realized that your cause is totally creepy, and that you’re never going to win, so you’re hoping to cut a deal for your cooperation. Not a bad move, honestly. But you’re forgetting that the Council holds a grudge.”