Several of the other Councillors fidgeted at his words. Sophie didn’t understand their discomfort, until she remembered that Fintan had been a member of the Council before pyrokinesis became a forbidden ability.
“Perhaps we should get started,” Councillor Terik suggested. “We’ll all feel much better once this is over, right?”
“Yes,” Councillor Emery agreed, turning to Sophie and Fitz. “Only Alden, Tiergan, and Councillors Kenric, Terik, and Oralie will go up with you. The rest will stay here with me—and I’ll transmit updates to them from Kenric.”
“I still don’t understand why Terik is going instead of me,” Bronte grumbled. “Need I remind you that this process involves inflicting?”
“And need I remind you that you have shown your weakness?” Kenric asked him, glancing at Sophie in a way that made her wonder if he was referring to what happened during their session. “Besides, Sophie needs to feel safe and comfortable—two sentiments you certainly don’t let her experience when you’re around.”
“I’ve done nothing to—” Bronte started, but Councillor Emery held up his hand.
“There will be no further debate on this matter.” He waited until Bronte stepped back before he added, “As I was saying, the seven of you will go up to the top floor and begin the healing immediately. Sophie, you and Fitz will stand on either side of Fintan, and Oralie will stand behind you to keep track of your emotions. Alden, Kenric, and Tiergan will monitor the situation telepathically. And Terik will be descrying Fintan, searching his potential for warning signs. We feel this arrangement will be the strongest way to ensure your safety. But if you have any concerns, now is the time to address them.”
Sophie had many concerns—but nothing was going to fix that. So she went with the only other thought on her mind. “Councillor Kenric’s a Telepath?”
“Did I never mention?” Kenric asked with a grin. “That’s why I was part of your original committee of three. They wanted an Empath to get a reading on who you were as a person, a Telepath to judge your capabilities, and Councillor Grumpypants because, well, he insisted.”
The mood was too tense for anyone to actually laugh. But Sophie did notice a plethora of smiles.
Bronte threw up his hands. “Don’t we have a healing to perform?”
“Yes, I suppose Bronte’s right,” Councillor Emery murmured. “Sophie, do you need a minute to prepare yourself?”
“I do!” Fitz jumped in before she could answer. His face flamed as all eyes turned to him. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”
Sophie opened her mind to his and found his thoughts on auto-repeat of the code words they’d created:
Alden means there’s no reason to worry. Mallowmelt means she found something. Dame Alina means trouble. The verminion means run away. Everblaze means brain push.
Was there something you needed to talk about? she asked.
I don’t know. I’m just starting to get why you’re always saying this stuff is so scary. I mean—look at this place. I remember reading about it in Elvin History. The whole tower is a trap, designed to make people go insane.
It’s pretty creepy, Sophie agreed.
When he went back to repeating the code words again, she added, Fitz, if you don’t want to do this, I’m sure Tiergan can step in.
No, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m scared I’m going to mess something up.
It’s going to be okay, Sophie promised, ordering herself to believe it. Remember, I have a perfect track record with healings.
Fitz glanced at his father, who looked strong and healthy and very much healed. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s do this.
“I think we’re ready,” Sophie said, half hoping no one would hear her.
But Alden, Tiergan, Kenric, Oralie, and Terik moved to her side, and the Councillors who were staying behind pulled glowing chains out of the ceiling and started wrapping them around everyone’s ankles.
“From this moment on, I want you both to be in constant communication with each other,” Tiergan told Sophie and Fitz. “Hold nothing back. Check in regularly. And above all else, trust.”
“We will,” Fitz promised, taking Sophie’s hand.
They tangled their fingers together, and Sophie took one deep breath for courage. Then the chains dragged them up—too fast and too sharply and way too painfully—into a room so cold, it felt like her blood was freezing.
Everyone toppled out of their chains, collapsing to the icy ground with a chorus of groans. Sophie pulled her hood over her head as she turned to face a hunched figure in the center of the floor.
If she hadn’t known who he was, she wouldn’t have recognized him.
Pale, papery skin covered his withered, shadowed face, which was crusted with grime and ice. Frozen tears clung to his hair and eyelashes, and his lips were cracked and blue. The only sounds filling the room were his ragged, raspy gasps for air, each one more a death rattle than a breath.
Sophie had spent days questioning the rightness of this healing. But in that moment she needed to help him.
You with me? she transmitted as Fitz backed away from Fintan’s crumpled figure.
Yeah. Sorry, he thought, forcing himself to move to her side. What do you need?
Just stay close—and don’t try to open your mind to his until I tell you it’s safe.
Oralie took her place between them and placed a soft, fragile hand on each of their shoulders.
“If I feel too much stress or fear I will pull you away,” Oralie explained, her voice too sweet and warm for such a cold, miserable place.
But Sophie doubted she would need it.
Her mind was ready.
Her instincts were ready.
All that was left to do was press her fingers against Fintan’s swollen temples, and push her mind into his consciousness.
THIRTY-THREE
THE THICK, PIERCING DARKNESS FELT shockingly warm as it stabbed and scraped and smashed. Sophie held her breath, wondering if any madness would break through—but her mental defenses held strong, deflecting each attack like an invisible shield.
Now if only she had any idea what to do.
She’d been planning to search for a trail of warmth and follow it to the nook in Fintan’s mind. But there was warmth everywhere. A stifling, suffocating fog that slowed her thoughts and blurred all the pathways.
Fintan, she transmitted over and over, but the echoes shredded as they bounced around his jagged mind.
She shoved her way through a cloud of shattered memories, searching each one for a clue to steer her through the chaos. She could see glints of color and shadow, slivers and slices of faces and places—but nothing she could recognize.
Nothing except fire.
Sparks of red and orange and blue and white—each more blinding than the last—swarmed around her, burning hotter, brighter, wilder with each second, until they erupted into neon yellow flames.
Everblaze.
Somewhere in the back of her consciousness Sophie knew she should run away. But the Everblaze traced a glinting path through the endless darkness. She had to follow the trail.
The flames led her deeper, into a pit of pure black heat. The space was empty of memories but thick with the breath of so many emotions, Sophie didn’t know which one to feel:
Fear.
Pride.
Regret.
Envy.
Triumph.
Sadness.
Hopelessness.
And rage.
So much rage.
It burned hotter than the other emotions—hotter than the Everblaze.
Boiling and bubbling and consuming everything.
Every thought.
Every memory.
Every glint of light and hope and reason.
Leaving her empty.
Except for the rage.
The rage was her power. Her force. Her fire to unleash on the world, to stop the—
Sharp jostling pulled her out of the frenzy, and Sophie realized Or
alie and Fitz were shaking her shoulders.
Sorry, she transmitted, concentrating on Fitz’s thoughts.
His worry was so thick she could feel it tangling around her.
We’ve been trying to wake you up for a really long time, he told her.
Really? I don’t know what happened. I followed the warmth like I always do. But I ended up in a very dark place.
Is it something I could help with?
Not yet. His mind is still too broken.
And you’re sure you can handle it? It’s not worth risking your sanity, Sophie.
Actually, it was.
This was her chance to find the rebels—and Jolie’s killer.
She wasn’t giving up that easily.
I know what to expect this time. And I’ll let you know if I need you, she promised.
No—you’ll let me know when he’s healed and it’s safe for me to join you, whether you think you need me or not, he corrected.
Fine, she told him, feeling her lips smile.
She gave herself three slow, deep breaths to steady her nerves. Then she channeled her mental energy back into Fintan’s mind.
The heat felt stronger this time, like standing in the middle of a fire. But Sophie rallied her concentration and pushed through the fog of splinters, deep into the center of his consciousness. She could go anywhere from there, and every path looked the same. But she had a plan this time. A trick she’d forgotten about earlier.
Inflicting.
She doubted Fintan would respond to love or joy or peace. But she could feed him pride and triumph, and hope it drew him back. So she inflicted the victory of every A she’d earned in school, and the confidence from every compliment she’d ever been paid.
The positive energy hummed through the darkness, a deep rumble that seemed to build with each infliction, parting the sea of shredded memories and creating a new path.
Sophie followed it slowly, watching for signs of another trap. But the way was clear. And when she reached the end of the trail, she found the nook she’d been searching for.
She transmitted Fintan’s name again, begging him to find her—and when there was still no reply she went back to inflicting. She shared more triumphs, more celebrations, and the sweet relief of forgiveness. But nothing seemed to reach him—until she realized she’d been overlooking his greatest passion. The triumph that had defined him and ruined him in the same instant.
Everblaze.
She drew on the wonder and power she’d felt when she faced down a fire line of the neon yellow flames, letting the energy swell into a force before she shoved it into Fintan’s mind.
Something started to stir, and she used the momentum, drawing on her memories of the heat and the smoke.
Each emotion she inflicted made the fog around her shift, until it swirled into a storm that showered her with splintered memories.
But still, no sign of Fintan.
Unsure what to do, she drew on the only other emotion she could think of—the strongest reaction she’d felt when she faced the unstoppable flames.
Fear.
She relived every panicked second of that day, letting the terror swell inside her mind until she thought she might burst from the pressure. Then she called for Fintan one last time and blasted him with the energy, gasping when it melted the darkness and set fire to the rain of memories.
Somewhere among the flames, Fintan’s deep voice whispered through the smoke.
I knew you’d come back for me, Sophie. And now everyone will pay.
THIRTY-FOUR
WHAT’S WRONG?” SOMEONE SHOUTED AS Sophie jerked backward, shivering and flailing in someone’s icy grip. It took her a second to realize it was Fitz.
“He was waiting for me,” she whispered, glancing behind her, expecting Fintan to spring up and attack.
He was still unconscious on the floor.
“I don’t understand.” She tried to pull away from Fitz, but her legs weren’t ready. “I—He . . .”
“You’re safe,” Fitz promised. “He’s not even awake.”
“But he should be. I brought him back and it was like he’d been waiting for me. He told me everyone was going to pay.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a memory?” Tiergan asked, moving to Fintan’s side.
He lifted one of Fintan’s arms and dropped it, letting it fall to the floor with an icy crunch.
“He hasn’t moved this whole time,” Kenric added. “I was watching him closely, and nothing changed until you started screaming.”
“And I felt only the slightest shift in his mood,” Oralie added quietly.
“Hmm.” Tiergan closed his eyes and reached for Fintan’s temples, and . . .
. . . ripped his hands away as fast as he could.
“I can see his memories piecing themselves back together,” he told them, shaking his head—hard. “But his mind is very overwhelming.”
“How so?” Alden asked, reaching for Fintan’s temples.
Tiergan grabbed his hands to stop him. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Especially given your past experiences.”
Alden looked torn for a second. Then slowly dropped his hands to his sides. “Well, his mind was devastatingly shattered in the break. Perhaps it’s taking him longer to recover?”
“Then why was he able to threaten me?” Sophie asked.
Tiergan lifted Fintan’s eyelids before he answered. “I’m not sure if it really was him. You said he seemed very prepared for the memory break before you performed it, right?”
Alden and Sophie both nodded.
“Well, then perhaps he built in certain defense mechanisms, and you inadvertently triggered one.”
“Then . . . it’s safe to search his memories?” Sophie asked, cursing herself for falling for a cheap trick.
“I’m not sure safe is the right word,” Alden said, running his hands through his hair. “Perhaps we should give it a bit more time?”
“But what if that was his plan?” Sophie argued. “What if he left that message to frighten me away so he’d have time to destroy important memories?”
“I don’t know if the mind truly works that way,” Kenric said, taking Alden’s place at Fintan’s side. “But let’s see . . .”
He pressed his fingers against Fintan’s forehead, gritting his teeth and sucking in sharp breaths until he finally stumbled back.
“Wow,” he whispered, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve. “His mind is a maze. I can’t . . .”
He groaned and rubbed his temples.
Oralie rushed to his side, tracing one soft finger across the crease puckering his brow.
“Thanks,” he whispered, sighing as he pressed his face into her palm. “You always make everything better.”
Oralie smiled, gently cradling his head, before they both seemed to realize they weren’t alone.
“Sorry,” Kenric mumbled, clearing his throat. He straightened up as he told them, “I’ve never entered a mind so twisted before. I don’t know how you lasted so long in there, Sophie.”
“It wasn’t fun,” she admitted, though she hadn’t noticed that the mind was a maze. Had it shifted since she’d been in there?
“I have to go back,” she decided, moving toward Fintan.
“Not without me,” Fitz insisted. “He’s healed now, right?”
“I don’t know what he is,” Tiergan admitted. “You saw how he affected Kenric.”
“Yes, but Kenric’s a big softie,” Councillor Terik teased. “Every time we take a vote, we can count on Kenric to vote for mercy.”
“That’s why I’m everyone’s favorite. Well, second favorite. Empaths always win.”
Oralie blushed.
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Fitz insisted.
“And I applaud your bravery, son,” Alden told him, “I also understand your urgency, Sophie. But haste is never a wise course.”
“Neither is wasting time and overthinking things,” Sophie argued.
“If it helps, I’m not pi
cking up any potential for danger,” Councillor Terik offered.
“Actually, I find that rather more upsetting,” Alden told him.
“So do I,” Tiergan agreed.
“Me too,” Kenric added.
“Are you doubting my abilities?” Councillor Terik’s tone was light—but there was a definite edge of annoyance.
Oralie made her way over to Fintan, tracing her fingertips across his forehead. “He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once. Surely that could confuse your descrying.”
“Perhaps,” Councillor Terik reluctantly agreed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sophie jumped in. “We all knew this was going to be dangerous. I still have to try.”
“I think you mean we,” Fitz corrected. “We have to try.”
Sophie sighed. “Fitz—”
“Who thinks Sophie should go back into the crazy mind-maze without a guide?” Fitz interrupted, looking to see if anyone would raise their hand.
Alden looked the most tempted—though Councillor Terik was a surprisingly close second.
But no one did.
“If something happens—” Sophie tried.
“What if something happens to you?” Fitz argued. “I can’t sit here uselessly anymore. You trust me, don’t you?”
“I do, but . . .”
“You either trust me or you don’t.”
She really wished there were a Secret Answer Number Three that would keep Fitz safe.
But she knew he was right—and she probably was going to need him.
Get ready, she told him. We’re going in.
Okay, this is way creepier than I thought it would be, Fitz admitted, trying to keep up as Sophie raced through the web of eerie flashing memories.
Kenric had definitely been right about Fintan’s mind being a maze. Every turn they made only led to more paths of blaring, mismatched scenes—flickering like living projections—and Sophie quickly lost all track of which way was up or down or where they were supposed to be.
Is this how it was last time with my dad? Fitz asked as they backtracked from yet another dead end.