Exile Page 9

  “Well, that’s good news.” Edaline motioned for Sophie to take her usual seat.

  Grady hid behind the official-looking scroll he was reading as Sophie sat in the chair across from him.

  Edaline snapped her fingers, and a golden muffin with purple splotches appeared on the table. “I made blitzenberry muffins. They were another of Jolie’s favorites.”

  Sophie squeezed Edaline’s hand as she reached for the muffin and took a bite. The tart berries fizzed and popped on her tongue, and the cake was smooth like melted butter. “They’re amazing. Thank you.”

  “Of course.” Edaline turned away to wipe her eyes.

  Grady still hadn’t said a word—and Sophie decided she was done letting him off the hook. “Are you ready to tell me why you won’t help the Council?”

  He made a sound that was more of a groan than a sigh and set his scroll on the table. “I won’t help them,” he said, rubbing his temples, “because they don’t want to find the kidnappers, Sophie. They want me to help them find the Black Swan.”

  “And you don’t want to find them.”

  It wasn’t a question—but that didn’t mean she understood it.

  “Not the way the Council wants to, no. They want to reach out as allies. But if the Black Swan were our allies, we wouldn’t have to find them. If they were on our side, they wouldn’t be hiding. They wouldn’t be leaving secret messages on charm bracelets in the middle of the Wanderling Woods, using a young, innocent girl like their pup—”

  “Grady!” Edaline warned.

  “I’m sure they have a good reason for wanting to stay secret,” Sophie argued, when Grady stayed quiet. She looked to Edaline to back her up, but Edaline was staring at her cup of tea like it was the most fascinating thing in the entire universe.

  Grady crunched the edge of the scroll in his fisted hand. “Oh, I’m sure they have a reason, Sophie—and it’s anything but good. They’re not to be trusted.”

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t understand. They’re the ones who—”

  “Rescued you. Yes, I know. You keep saying that. And completely forgetting that they left you unconscious on the streets of a Forbidden City with only a few clues to help you find your way back. Why didn’t they bring you and Dex safely back to our world?”

  “He said he couldn’t risk being discovered.”

  “What do they have to hide? And how did they know where you were?”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled, squishing a piece of her muffin into a sticky blob. The tiny berries stained her fingers purple. “I don’t know anything about them. No one tells me anything.”

  “You know everything you need to know.”

  “Obviously not! There has to be a reason why you’re so convinced the Black Swan is evil. If you want me to believe you, you need to tell me.”

  “You don’t want to know,” he said as he stood to leave.

  Sophie grabbed his arm. “Actually, I do.”

  The room seemed to hold its breath as he stared at her fingers on his skin, and his mouth formed three different words before he said, “Fine.”

  “Grady!” Edaline knocked her teacup as she stood, sending it crashing to the floor.

  “She deserves to know.”

  Edaline shook her head, but she didn’t argue as she stepped over the mess and faced the wall of windows.

  Grady bent and picked up one of the larger shards of glass, staring at the jagged edges.

  “I know we can’t trust the Black Swan,” he whispered, “because the Black Swan murdered Jolie.”

  FOURTEEN

  BUT . . . IT WAS AN ACCIDENT,” Sophie mumbled, surprised to realize she was suddenly standing.

  A terrible accident—that’s what Alden had called it. She could still remember the sadness in his voice, the way Della had turned away, trying not to cry. Neither of them had shown any sign that they suspected murder.

  “It was no accident.” Grady’s voice was dark and hard.

  “How do you—what did they—have you—” There were too many words and questions crashing around inside her head. She didn’t know which one to go with.

  Or maybe she did.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  The Black Swan were elusive and secretive—but they’d also stationed someone to keep constant watch over her when she was living with humans. They went to great lengths to make sure she had everything she needed to stop the Everblaze from killing any more innocent people. And they were the only ones who didn’t believe that she and Dex were dead, coming to their rescue in the nick of time.

  Murderers didn’t do things like that.

  Edaline gazed blankly into the pastures as she whispered, “I know this is hard to hear, Sophie. It’s hard for us, too.”

  “It just . . . doesn’t make sense.”

  “You think I’m lying?” Grady snapped.

  “Of course not. But could there be a misunderstanding?”

  “Trust me—there was no mistake.”

  “Then why? Why would they kill . . .”

  She couldn’t even say it.

  “To punish me. Or scare me into submission. I’m still not sure which.” Grady stalked to the windows, but he didn’t stand near Edaline, and she didn’t step closer to him. “They’d been trying to recruit me for months. Slipping me notes to convince me to join their forces.”

  “Why would they—”

  “Because I’m a Mesmer, Sophie. Think of how much easier it would be if they had my power in their arsenal. I could make anyone do anything they needed. I could mesmerize the entire Council if I wanted to, make them sign any law into effect. I could make them all jump off a cliff if I felt like it.”

  Sophie couldn’t hide her shudder.

  She’d thought inflicting was a terrifying ability, but the things Grady could do were a whole other realm of horrifying. She was amazed the Council didn’t forbid him from using his power. But they only did that after something went wrong, like when they forbade pyrokinesis after several elves died trying to spark Everblaze.

  “The Black Swan would’ve done anything to get me on their side. And when I made it very clear that there was nothing they could say to convince me, they sent me one final message. Slipped it into the pocket of my cape—like they wanted me to know they could get to me anywhere. ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with.’ If I’d known what they meant I . . .”

  Grady’s voice cracked and Edaline moved to his side.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

  Grady jerked away. “I know. It was their fault. Three days after I got that note, Jolie died in a fire. A fire that no one ever found the cause of. The Council ruled it an accident, but I knew. The Black Swan was showing me who I was dealing with. What lengths they’d go to.”

  He slammed his fist against the window so hard it cracked the glass.

  Sophie jumped as Sandor grabbed her shoulders, like he was afraid Grady had become a threat. But Grady just stood there watching the hairline fissures spread through the glass.

  Sophie watched them too, trying to make her brain connect the pieces Grady just gave her with the things she already knew. How could the same people that made her, protected her—even at the cost of their own sanity—kill an innocent girl, just to punish Grady or scare him into changing his mind? But how else could she explain what Grady was telling her? Could all of those things really be a coincidence?

  “Does the Council know about this?” she asked.

  “Of course. I told them everything—but it was back when they were still deluding themselves into believing that the Black Swan didn’t exist. And murder wasn’t something that happened in our world. Alden did what he could to help me investigate, but the Black Swan had covered their tracks well—they’re good at skulking in the shadows like cowards! And without proof, the Council treated me like I was some raving madman, broken by the loss of my d
aughter. Told me to ‘let the lost stay at peace.’ To ‘look forward, not back.’ To ‘focus on what matters.’ My daughter matters!”

  He swung to punch the window again, but Edaline grabbed his arm. “Please, Grady,” she whispered. “Enough.”

  His arms shook as he fought for control. Then he unclenched his fists and his whole body seemed to droop.

  “So that’s why you left your job with the Council,” Sophie said as Edaline led him back to the table.

  Grady sank into a chair and Edaline crouched beside him, examining his knuckles. “If they wouldn’t help me, why should I help them? Besides, I wanted no part of such a blind, incompetent organization—and I want even less to do with them now. I want nothing to do with anyone connected to the Black Swan.”

  “Grady,” Edaline warned as Sophie clutched her stomach like she’d been punched.

  She would always be connected to the Black Swan.

  Always.

  “Sophie,” Grady called as she turned and ran. But she couldn’t stop, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except race upstairs, shut herself in her bedroom, and collapse on the bed.

  If Grady was right—if the Black Swan did what he’d said . . .

  She heard Edaline’s quiet knock, but she couldn’t make herself answer.

  Edaline came in anyway and wrapped her in a hug. “Grady didn’t mean you, Sophie.” She rubbed Sophie’s back, tracing slow, gentle circles. “He loses himself sometimes. Lets the anger take control. I used to try to make him put those feelings behind him, just like he’d try to help me stop holding on to some part of her like it could bring her back. But it’s different from that. He has to stay angry. If he doesn’t blame them, he might start to blame himself, and if he did . . .”

  She didn’t finish, but Sophie knew. She remembered what Grady had told her about Brant’s parents.

  About guilt.

  “So you don’t think Grady’s right?” Sophie whispered.

  She couldn’t breathe as she waited for Edaline’s answer, and her lungs were burning by the time Edaline squeezed her hand and said, “I don’t know what to believe. But I do know it has nothing to do with you.”

  “But the Black Swan made me.”

  “Who they are has nothing to do with who you are. Grady and I have known that from the moment Alden asked us to take you in. Don’t you ever let anything make you think otherwise.”

  Sophie wanted to believe that—more than anything. And maybe it would be true if she were normal.

  But she wasn’t normal.

  She was the Black Swan’s “creation.” They’d twisted and tweaked her DNA, designing her specifically for something.

  And if the Black Swan were murderers . . .

  “Please try to let this go, Sophie. Grady’s just having a hard day. In fact, why don’t you go do something fun to take your mind off things? Where’s Dex today?”

  “He has to help his dad at the store.”

  “Well, then why don’t you go visit him there? I’m sure Kesler would let him take a break. Or you could stay there and put your fabulous alchemy skills to use. Maybe you’ll be the one to finally burn down that ugly store.”

  Sophie couldn’t help smiling—though sadly, given her general patheticness when it came to alchemy, there was a very good chance she really would start a fire. She’d almost burned down Foxfire several times.

  And Edaline did have a good idea about visiting Dex—but not for the reason she was saying. Sophie couldn’t let this go. She needed to know the truth about the Black Swan. And Dex was the only other person who’d met one of them.

  It was time for her and Dex to have the conversation they’d been carefully avoiding. Whether they were ready for it or not.

  FIFTEEN

  YOU’D THINK THEY’D NEVER SEEN a goblin before,” Sophie muttered to Sandor as the crowds of pedestrians gawked at them.

  Mysterium was a working-class city, packed with elves in simple tunics and pants making their way down the narrow sidewalks to the vendor carts or to plain, identical buildings. Sandor—with his giant body and giant muscles and giant sword—might as well have been wrapped in neon lights.

  “I hate to break it to you, Miss Foster, but they’re not staring at me.”

  Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she realized Sandor was right.

  She was used to getting stares and whispers. In fact, the first time she’d come to Mysterium, she and Edaline had created quite the spectacle, between their noble gowns and Edaline’s antisocial reputation.

  But this time there was fear in their eyes.

  “That’s the girl who was taken,” someone whispered.

  Words like “trouble” and “menace” quickly followed.

  A mother even grabbed her children’s arms, like she feared being near Sophie might somehow get them taken too.

  Sophie wanted to be annoyed, but . . . that was what happened to Dex.

  Sandor moved in front of her as Sophie ducked her head and picked up her pace, and they didn’t stop until they’d reached Slurps and Burps, the only unique building in the entire city with its topsy-turvy structure and rainbow paint job. The door belched as they entered, and a plume of purple smoke greeted them with the stench of old pickled cabbage.

  “I told you not to add the savoyola until the flame turned blue!”

  “No, you said red!”

  “Red heat makes it curdle and combust!”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you add it?”

  “Because you told me to!”

  Despite the gag-inducing stench, Sophie smiled as she and Sandor wove through the maze of shelves filled with tiny vials and bottles. When they finally reached the back laboratory, the scene was even more chaotic than she’d imagined.

  Thick pink slime covered everything—the lab table, the ceiling, and especially the tall slender man who looked even more like his son with the vibrant goo coating both of their faces.

  “You look like when I smacked you with that splotcher,” Sophie told Dex, grinning as he tried to smear away the pink sludge from his cheeks. Splotching was a type of telekinesis duel, and she had easily defeated him and left him splattered with hot pink splotcher slime.

  Kesler swatted at the tiny flames that had caught on the bottom of his white lab coat. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you, Sophie?”

  “I needed to talk to Dex, but maybe I should come back later. . . .”

  “No—don’t go,” Dex blurted. “I mean, um, I could use a break. Let me just clean up real quick.”

  He raced toward the storage room, nearly slipping in a pink puddle as he ran.

  Kesler shook his head. “I think your alchemy skills are rubbing off on him, Sophie.”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” Dex shouted from the other side of the wall.

  Kesler mouthed, Yes it was, before he said, “Well, I’d better get this mess taken care of. Feel free to wander around. I’m sure we have at least a few elixirs Edaline isn’t keeping on hand in case you have another one of your incidents.”

  Sophie wasn’t so sure. She’d seen Edaline’s medicine collection. It was getting out of control.

  Still, the Dizznees made a lot of elixirs, most with names like Buff Stuff and Curley-Dew and Fuzzy Fizz. Kesler liked to keep things as ridiculous as possible—his small way of rebelling against the stuffy nobles who frequented his store. But that didn’t mean his concoctions weren’t seriously powerful. Slurps and Burps had an elixir or balm for almost every problem or ailment anyone could ever have. Which was why the store was so cluttered with shelves. Sandor was struggling to maneuver his bulky frame through the aisles without knocking things over.

  A blue bottle caught Sophie’s eye as she browsed.

  “What’s Fade Fuel?” she asked, picking up the delicate flask. Clear liquid sloshed inside, and the glass felt warm to the touch.

  “Helps you regenerate faster if you fade during a leap,” Kesler called.

&n
bsp; Her grip tightened on the vial. Maybe it could ease the strange headaches and dizziness she kept getting.

  “Better put that away,” Kesler said behind her, startling her so much she nearly dropped the bottle. He took it from her, holding it up to the light until the bottle glowed. “This would’ve made Elwin’s job a lot easier when he was trying to bring you back. But it has limbium in it.”

  Just the word made her skin itch and her stomach heave.

  Kesler frowned as he set the bottle back on the shelf. “I helped him make a version without the limbium, but it was hardly the same. Good thing you’re such a fighter.”

  “Yeah,” Sophie mumbled, not quite sure what to say. “What exactly does limbium do?”

  “Many things, depending on what you mix it with. Mainly it affects the limbic system.”

  A diagram from one of her old human science books filled Sophie’s memory. “That’s the emotional center of the brain, isn’t it?”

  “And the center of behavior, long-term memory, and motivation. It’s also the root point of any special ability. Not something to be tampered with lightly. Which is why we put it in very few elixirs—and only use a drop. Though in your case that’s still a fatal amount. . . .”

  She rubbed her arms, remembering the burning hives she’d gotten within moments of drinking the elixir Dex had given her. Had it really only had a drop?

  “Why were you asking?” Kesler asked. “Are you still feeling side effects from the leap?”

  Sophie hoped he didn’t notice her slight hesitation before she said, “How could I be? Grady and Edaline make Elwin check me like once a week.”

  “That’s not actually an answer,” he pointed out.

  She had to fight the urge to tug out an eyelash. “I’m fine.”

  And she was fine.

  Once again she reminded herself of how very many times Elwin had checked her. She probably just needed more sleep.

  Kesler didn’t look convinced, though, so she added, “I’ve just been having a lot of nightmares. But there’s no elixir for that.”

  “Not unless you want a sedative,” Kesler agreed.

  “Thanks, I’ll pass.”