Keeper of the Lost Cities (8 page)

Quinlin’s mouth hung open.

“That’s what I thought,” Alden murmured, almost to himself. He turned and began pacing.

“You can’t hear anything either?” Sophie asked. Part of her was relieved—she hated the idea of having her private thoughts invaded. But she didn’t like the look on Quinlin’s face, like all the wind had been knocked out of him.

“What does that mean?” Quinlin asked quietly.

“It means she’ll be the greatest Keeper we’ve ever known, once she’s older,” Alden said through a sigh.

Quinlin snorted. “If she isn’t already.”

Alden froze midstep. When he turned to face her, he looked pale.

“What’s a Keeper?” Sophie asked.

A second passed before Alden answered. “Some information is too important to record. So we’ll share it with a Keeper, a
highly
trained Telepath, and leave them in charge of protecting the secret.”

“Then why would I already be one?”

“Quinlin was joking about that.” Alden’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, which made it harder to believe.

Then again, the only secret she was currently keeping was where she’d hidden her sister’s karaoke game, so she didn’t have to listen to Amy sing off-key all the time. How could she be a Keeper?

“Perhaps we should talk upstairs.” Alden gestured to the foyer, where the receptionist was leaning toward them, making notes. Clearly eavesdropping.

Quinlin led them to the far end of the small office. He licked a silver strip on the wall, and a narrow door slid open, revealing a winding stairway. They climbed to an empty oval room with live footage of brush fires projected across the walls.

A cold chill settled into Sophie’s core when she recognized the city.

“Why are you watching the San Diego wildfires?” She pointed to the aerial view of Southern California. White fire lines formed an almost perfect half circle around San Diego.

“You know the area?” Quinlin asked.

“Yeah, I live there.”

Quinlin’s gasp made her ears ring.

Thin lines etched into Alden’s forehead as he stared at the images. “Why didn’t you tell me there were fires?” he asked Fitz.

“I didn’t know they were important.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me what was important. I asked you to tell me
everything
.” Alden turned to Quinlin. “Why were you watching the fires?”

“They’re burning white hot—against the wind. Like they were set by someone who knew what they were doing. Plus . . . doesn’t it look like the sign?”

Sophie had no idea what “the sign” was, but she didn’t like the way the lines on Alden’s forehead deepened. Little valleys of worry.

“I’m guessing this is how you found the article you sent me,” Alden murmured. “I’d wondered why you were looking there. We ruled that area out years ago.”

“Article?” Quinlin asked.

“The one about the child prodigy in San Diego. Led me right to Sophie.”

Reflections of the glowing flames made Quinlin look even more haunted as he shifted his weight. “I didn’t send you any articles. Did it have a note from me?”

Alden frowned. “No. But you were the only one who knew what I was up to.”

“Not the only one,” Quinlin said quietly.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked. She didn’t care about interrupting—or the warning Fitz was trying to communicate with his waving hands. “What sign? What’s wrong with the fires? Should I warn my family to get out of there?”

Not being allowed to read minds was turning out to be more frustrating than she’d ever imagined. The answers she needed were right there—within her reach. But what would happen if they caught her taking them?

She didn’t want to find out.

“There’s no reason to worry, Sophie,” Alden promised. “I know this all seems very strange to you, but I assure you we have everything under control.”

The calm tone to his voice made her cheeks feel hot. Maybe she was overreacting. “Sorry. It’s just been a weird day. Between the guy trying to grab me this morning and—”

“What?” Quinlin interrupted, glancing between Sophie and Alden. “Was he . . . ?”

“An elf?” Alden finished. “I doubt it.”

“How can you be sure?” Quinlin asked.

Alden turned to Sophie. “Why didn’t he take you?”

She shuddered, remembering the desperate look in the kidnapper’s eyes before Mr. Forkle stepped in. “My neighbor threatened to call the police.”

“See?” Alden told Quinlin. “They never would have backed down so easily.”

“They?” Sophie didn’t like the idea the word implied—a nameless, faceless entity out to get her.

Alden smiled. “I meant an elf—any elf. You’ve seen how quickly we can light leap. If one of us were really there to get you, no human threatening to call the authorities would stop them. They would’ve just grabbed you and leaped away.”

She shivered at the thought. “But what about the fires? Why are they white?”

“The arsonist probably used a chemical accelerant. Humans do so love their chemicals. I’ll look into it,” Alden promised. “I follow suspicious leads all the time, and they never amount to anything. Humans are always doing crazy, dangerous things. If they’re not lighting something on fire, they’re spilling oil in the ocean or blowing something up. Every time they do, I investigate to make sure things don’t get out of hand—but that doesn’t leave this room. The Council’s official position is to leave humans to their own devices. That’s another reason Quinlin works down here: The Council rarely takes the time to visit and find out what we’re up to.”

“Bronte has his babysitter sitting outside my office all day, taking notes though,” Quinlin grumbled. “He could’ve at least picked someone who’s a decent receptionist.”

Alden rolled his eyes. Then his smile returned. “At least she’s equally bad at spying. You should’ve seen Bronte’s face when he learned about Sophie. I thought steam might come out of his ears.”

Quinlin laughed. “Keeping that secret for twelve years has to be a record.”

“Why didn’t the Council know you were looking for me?” Sophie had to ask.
Why all the secrecy?

“Bronte had specifically ordered us to ignore the evidence we found of your existence,” Alden explained. “He thought the DNA we’d discovered was a hoax and that my search was a waste of time. That’s why he was so hard on you today. He doesn’t like being wrong. And he really doesn’t like knowing that I’ve been working behind his back. So can I trust you to keep this quiet?” Alden waited for Sophie and Fitz to nod.

Sophie couldn’t help feeling like she was missing something, so she wasn’t quite ready to agree. “Do you promise you’ll keep me updated on the fires?”

Alden sighed. “I will, if there’s anything important. Agreed?”

Sophie nodded, trying to make sense of the pieces she’d learned. Why would her DNA be a hoax? How did they even have her DNA?

Alden turned to Quinlin. “Send me everything you have on the fires. I need to get Sophie back home.”

“The information will be waiting for you,” Quinlin promised with a slight bow.

“Thank you. Good to see you, my friend.”

Alden’s pace felt rushed as he led Fitz and Sophie downstairs, bypassing the receptionist without so much as a nod. He hailed another sea scorpion carriage, but this time Sophie was too distracted to care about the evil-looking creature as it pulled them through the canals.

Random facts floated through her mind. Prentice. DNA matches. Keepers. White-hot fires wrapping around the city where she lived. A “sign,” Quinlin had said. A sign of what?

And why couldn’t anyone read her mind?

She was no closer to the answer when the carriage slowed to a stop. They’d reached a small blue lagoon so far outside the city that the silver spires were nothing more than a tiny glint in the distance. Shimmery white dunes surrounded the small lake, and on the west shore stood a strange black statue—a narrow round base, which rose at least two stories high, topped with a wide hollow circle. An iridescent film shimmered across the center of the loop, making the whole apparatus resemble a giant bubble wand.

“Hold on tight,” Alden said as he moved between Sophie and Fitz and took their hands.

Before Sophie could ask why, Alden’s feet lifted off the ground, his strong arms pulling her—and Fitz—along with him as he floated out of the carriage. She clung to his hand with every bit of strength she had, shrieking as the ground grew farther and farther away.

She blushed when Fitz chuckled. She needed to be better about keeping her cool.

But now elves could levitate?

What
couldn’t
they do?

“Do I want to know what we’re doing?” she asked as Alden steered them toward the statue.

“You’ll see,” Fitz told her.

They passed through the center of the loop and the iridescent film stretched, forming a giant bubble around them.

Sophie couldn’t resist touching the bubble’s side, which was warm and wet like the inside of her cheek. But a low rumble coming from beneath them demanded her attention.

She glanced down just in time to see a giant geyser shoot up from the lagoon, and it launched their bubble out of Atlantis.

D
ON’T ELVES EVER DO ANYTHING THE
normal way?” Sophie asked as she watched the waves crash far below. Their bubble bobbed on the breeze, high in the clouds.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alden’s smile lifted the worry she’d been carrying since they left Quinlin’s office. If he could relax, maybe things weren’t as scary as they seemed. Plus, it was hard to feel anything other than pure joy as she floated above the world in a giant bubble.

Especially when Fitz took her hand again. “Ready to go home?” he asked, holding his pathfinder in the sunlight.

She barely had time to agree. The bubble popped, and she could only get half her scream out before the warm rush whisked them away.

SOPHIE SQUINTED IN THE GLARING
light. “I thought you meant
my
home,” she said as she stared once again at the enormous gates of Everglen.

She was actually relieved. They still hadn’t explained what she was supposed to tell her family about all of this. In fact, there were quite a few things they hadn’t explained. Her brain felt ready to burst with all the unanswered questions. “So what am I supposed to—”

Her question was cut short by a flash of light that made everyone shield their faces. When Sophie opened her eyes, a tall elf in a simple black tunic strode toward them. His olive skin stood in sharp contrast to his pale blond hair, and while his face held youth, something ancient shone in his dark blue eyes.

“You’ve got some nerve summoning me,” he shouted, stepping right into Alden’s personal space. He was a couple inches shorter than Alden, but he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the height difference. “I’d sooner be exiled than train anyone in your family.”

From the corner of her eye, Sophie saw Fitz’s hands clench into fists. Alden barely blinked. He took a small step backward, and smiled.

“Yes, Tiergan—I’m well aware of your opinion of me. I can assure you, I wouldn’t have summoned you if I wasn’t convinced that it would be what Prentice would want.”

Tiergan’s fierce expression crumbled. He backed away, crossing his arms against his chest. “Since when are you the expert on anything Prentice wanted?”

“Who’s Prentice?” Sophie had to ask.

Tiergan spun toward her and his eyes did a quick inventory, widening when they locked with hers.

“Yes,” Alden said when Tiergan gasped. “Whatever you’re thinking, yes. Tiergan, I’d like you to meet Sophie Foster. Foxfire’s newest prodigy, who happens to need a telepathy Mentor.”

Tiergan swallowed several times before he spoke. “She’s the one, isn’t she? The one Prentice was hiding?”

“Yes,” Alden agreed. “She’s been living with humans for the past twelve years.”

“Okay, seriously,” Sophie interrupted. The way Tiergan was staring at her—like he’d just watched someone kill his favorite puppy—was officially weirding her out. “Who is Prentice, and what does he have to do with me?”

“I’m sorry, that’s classified information, Sophie,” Alden said quietly.

“But it’s about
me
.” She glanced at Fitz for help, but he shrugged, like it was out of his hands.

“If it becomes important for you to know, I will tell you,” Alden promised. “For now, all anyone needs to know is that you are the most incredible Telepath I’ve ever seen, and you need a Mentor. Which is why I summoned you,” he added, turning to Tiergan. “Sophie has already broken through Fitz’s and Bronte’s blocking without training. She needs the best Mentor we can provide. I know you’re retired, but I thought—given the circumstances—you might be persuaded to return to Foxfire.”

Anger and resentment danced across Tiergan’s features, so the last thing Sophie expected was for him to nod.

“You’ll do it?” Alden asked, his voice a mixture of surprise and relief.

“Yes. But only for this year. That will be more than enough to hone her abilities. Then you leave me alone and never ask for my assistance again.”

“That’s more than reasonable,” Alden agreed.

“Wait,” Sophie interrupted. “Do I get any say in this?”

“What do you mean?” Alden asked.

She needed a deep breath before she could answer. “I’m not sure I want to get better at telepathy.” She’d always hated reading minds, and that was before she had to worry about serious rules and restrictions on it. And Tiergan didn’t seem like he even wanted to train her. Maybe it was better to just pretend she wasn’t a Telepath at all.

“Are you crazy?” Fitz asked. “Do you have any idea what an opportunity this is—”

Tiergan raised a hand, silencing him. He took a step closer to Sophie, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “Being a Telepath around humans is quite a burden. I’ll bet you’ve had terrible headaches and heard all kinds of things you didn’t want to hear. Right?”

She nodded, stunned by his sudden change in mood. He sounded almost . . . kind.

He frowned and looked away, mumbling something she mostly didn’t understand. But she thought she caught the word “irresponsible.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said after a second. “With proper training you’ll learn to manage your ability. But you do have a choice. There should
always
be a choice.” He said the last part louder, like it was for Alden’s benefit. “If you don’t want telepathy training, you don’t have to have it.”