They locked hands, letting the warm tingly light whisk them away to a stark, empty field.
“That’s a lot of ash,” Biana noted.
Definite understatement.
Every inch of ground was white and powdery, and the hills in the distance were black and gray—as if the fire had leeched the world of all its color.
“Recognize it?” Livvy asked Sophie as she handed out sacks for them to gather the ash. “Or is it too hard to spot without the flames?”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Is this where you guys sent me with Gildie?”
Livvy nodded. “It was one of the steadiest fires, so it felt the safest—though we knew it was still a tremendous risk.”
“This is where you bottled the sample of the Everblaze?” Grady asked, pulling Sophie close as she glanced at the sky, almost expecting to see a golden flareadon circling through thick smoke with a bottle clutched in her talons.
“This is where Sophie proved that she was willing to do what’s right,” Livvy corrected. “Even when it’s hard, and scary, and sure to have serious consequences.”
Sophie still had nightmares about that day—the way the smoke had choked off her lungs and the heat had singed her skin, and the wind had shifted, putting her directly in the line of fire.
The flames were gone now.
As was the smoke and the searing heat.
And yet, Sophie could feel the same paralyzing terror.
Because she may have stopped the fires. But she’d clearly missed something big.
And it was only a matter of time before the Neverseen would make them pay for that mistake.
Forty-one
SEE?” BIANA SAID, showing everyone at Havenfield how easily her ash-covered arm disappeared. “I can still vanish. Though, ugh, this stuff is gross. It feels almost wet, doesn’t it?”
“I think that’s because it’s cold,” Fitz said, dipping his hand into one of the sacks and frowning at the thick whitish-gray powder that crusted his fingers. “It feels like it’s made of ice.”
“That might be the leftover Quintessence from the frissyn they used to snuff out the fire,” Grady told them, offering towels to wipe off the ash. “Or maybe the nitrogen from the flames themselves? They may even be reacting with each other.”
“Could that be why the Neverseen wanted the ash?” Sophie asked.
“I suppose,” Livvy told her. “But it wouldn’t explain why we found those gnomish plants growing there. Is Flori still living here? I’d love her to test some of these samples, since Calla was so familiar with these blossoms.”
“Check the Panakes,” Grady told her. “She’s usually out there, singing to her aunt.”
“You’ll let us know if you find anything?” Sophie asked as Livvy headed for the door.
“Of course. Just like I expect a detailed update on Nightfall. See how I’m assuming you’ll be back safe? Make sure you prove me right.”
She ducked outside, and the epic battle of Who’s Heading to Nightfall resumed with a vengeance. They agreed Biana should go, but Sandor, Grizel, Fitz, and Grady were determined to claim the final spot—and without Mr. Forkle there to moderate, the debate showed no sign of resolving.
Apparently, he’d leaped away not long after their group left for the efflorescence, and hadn’t told anyone where he was going.
“I can’t believe you’re all fighting so hard to be a part of this,” Sophie mumbled, removing her glove and testing the freezing ash. “You realize this is going to be miserable, right?”
“Probably,” Fitz agreed. “But you’d do it for us, wouldn’t you?”
“And protecting you is my job,” Sandor added. “So everyone needs to let me do it. If Sophie will be enhancing Biana, she’s going to need someone guarding her even more vigilantly, since she’ll be without her gloves.”
Unease sloshed in Sophie’s stomach as she stared at her exposed hand.
“You’re not the only one who can wield a sword,” Grizel reminded Sandor. “And I don’t have lumbering feet.”
“Or we go with a stronger weapon,” Grady countered, “and have Sophie enhance me if anyone comes near her.”
“But Sophie might need extra mental energy to enhance Biana for that long,” Fitz argued.
“Pretty sure they’re going to keep this up until the moment we have to leave,” Biana told Sophie, “and I just realized we’re going to need to change.” She waved her arms, and her flouncy sleeves made a loud rustling swish. “Do you have anything more fitted?”
“No idea,” Sophie admitted. Both Della and Edaline had gifted her with a lot of clothes, but she’d barely had time to go through even half of them.
“We should check,” Biana told her, “otherwise I can leap home and get us something.”
“What about Tam?” Sophie asked.
Biana studied his outfit. “He should be fine if he ditches his shirt.”
“Um, what was that?” Tam asked, crossing his arms across his chest when Biana explained her noisy-fabric concern.
“How about I wear my jerkin without the undershirt?” he asked. “If I go shirtless I’ll freeze.”
“I guess that would work,” Biana agreed, heading upstairs to Sophie’s closet and flipping through one of the many racks of tunics. “We should probably put our hair in buns so it’s easier to cover our heads with ash. And I might as well wash my makeup off.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sophie had to ask.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Uh, because it’s super dangerous. And it’s going to be miserable. And it’s not like you even know my human family.”
“I don’t have to know them to want to help. Besides, I hate to break it to you, but just because the Neverseen came after your family this time doesn’t mean they won’t come after mine next—or any of the other people we care about. Look at what happened with Wylie. We’re all targets.”
She was right—but the reality of it felt like a huge stone being dropped on Sophie’s back.
“Don’t you wish we could build some sort of protective bubble and put everyone we care about in it?” she asked.
“I’d rather lock the bad guys up and keep our freedom. Here, try this.” Biana handed Sophie a sleeveless black tunic made out of the kind of slinky, skin-hugging fabric that Sophie usually avoided. When she tried it on, it was even tighter than she’d been imagining.
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Biana told her. “And stop crossing your arms over your stomach—you look fierce!”
Biana found a similar tunic in a dark gray and changed into it before heading into the bathroom to pull back her hair. Sophie did the same, and the end result made them look like something out of a human action movie—though Sophie wished she had the muscles to complete the effect.
“Ugh, I’m going to miss my eyeliner,” Biana whined as she splashed water on her face. “My eyes look so boring without it.”
“You have teal eyes,” Sophie reminded her.
Biana reached for a towel. “Said the girl with the eyes everyone’s always talking about—and don’t you dare roll them. When are you going to realize that brown eyes are amazing? It’s—” She frowned at the counter. “What are those?”
Sophie lunged to snatch the crush cuffs she’d forgotten about—but Biana was much too fast.
“Those, um . . . they’re to block my ability,” Sophie mumbled. “The snaps put a force field around my hands to prevent anyone from actually touching my skin.”
“Okay,” Biana said slowly. “But that doesn’t explain why they say this.”
She pointed to the giant Sophie Foster + Dex Dizznee, and if Sophie could’ve jumped out her window and teleported away, she would’ve.
“That was camouflage,” she tried. “Dex thought crush cuffs would be the least suspicious, since they’re one of those things people wear all the time. And he thought they’d be easier to take off than nexuses.”
“I guess that does make sense,” Biana agreed. “But, then, why a
ren’t you wearing them?”
Sophie had really been hoping she wouldn’t think to ask that.
“I . . . told Dex I was worried it might cause . . . confusion.”
Biana blinked. “Wow. I bet that was a fun conversation.”
“It was pretty much the worst.”
“So this is why Dex seemed weird when I hailed him, huh? Poor guy. I mean, I knew something like this was going to happen eventually, but—”
“You knew he—”
“Everyone knows, Sophie. You were the only one I used to wonder about. You can be kinda oblivious when it comes to this stuff.”
“I’m not oblivious,” Sophie argued.
Biana raised one eyebrow.
Sophie sighed. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this. We’re supposed to be getting ready to risk our lives again.”
Biana gestured to their outfits. “We’re ready. And, I can still hear them arguing downstairs. Besides, this seems like . . . kind of a big deal. You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Biana didn’t look convinced. “What about Dex? You guys are still going to be friends, right?”
“I hope so. He said we would. He just . . . needs a little space.”
“I’m sure he does.” Biana set the crush cuffs down and moved closer, wrapping an arm around Sophie’s shoulder. “Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”
“Dex asked me not to. And I figured I owed him that, even though I told him he had no reason to be embarrassed.”
“He doesn’t. But I get why he would be. It’s not fun having to admit that what you want just . . . isn’t going to happen.”
She said it like she’d been through it, and Sophie couldn’t help wondering if she was talking about Keefe.
She thought about asking—but if she was wrong . . .
“I guess this is just the process,” Biana said, leaning against the counter and fidgeting with the crush cuffs. “There’s a reason we get hundreds of matches to choose from, you know?”
She tilted her head to study Sophie. “Do you realize you always cringe when anyone mentions matchmaking?”
“Do I?”
“Yep. I know it’s different than how you grew up, but it’s really not as awkward as you’re imagining. You’ll see.”
Sophie forced herself to nod.
“You are going to register, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “Is that bad?”
“Of course not,” Edaline called from Sophie’s bedroom. “It’s your decision. And you have plenty of time to figure it out before you have to make it.”
Sophie was pretty sure everything inside her shriveled and died of humiliation—especially when Edaline peeked her head into the bathroom with a sheepish grin.
“I know I probably shouldn’t have admitted I was eavesdropping—but I figured you would’ve come out and found me anyway. And I swear I didn’t mean to. I came up here to see if you guys were putting on the ash—and if you needed help—and by the time I’d figured out what you were talking about, I’d already heard the most embarrassing part. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you tell me more about it. I’ll always respect your privacy, Sophie. But, if you do want my advice—or just want me to listen . . . please don’t be embarrassed, okay? I know talking about crushes with your mom sounds as fun as being chewed on by a verminion, but you might be surprised by how much I can help.”
The only response Sophie was willing to commit to was “Maybe.”
She also had to ask, “Are you going to tell Grady?”
“How about I leave it up to you?” Edaline offered. “If you want him in the dark, he can be—but don’t blame me if he keeps trying to nudge you toward Dex. I’ve already told him not to do that and he still takes any chance he can get.”
“Aw, that’s kind of sweet if you think about it,” Biana said.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if it was your dad doing it to you,” Sophie argued. “And I guess Grady should know—otherwise he’ll make it a thousand times more awkward.”
“Probably,” Edaline admitted. “But just so you know, all we want is for you to be happy, and choose someone who gets how amazing you are. I think that’s why Grady was trying to encourage Dex, because he could tell how much Dex adored you.”
“Ugh, even Grady knew?” Sophie asked, burying her face in her hands when Biana giggled.
Edaline wrapped an arm around her. “So do Kesler and Juline. Dex hasn’t exactly been subtle. But I also think most of us suspected he was fighting a losing battle.”
“This is getting worse and worse,” Sophie groaned. “I have to go into hiding now, right?”
Edaline kissed her cheek. “Believe it or not, this will get easier. Someday, you’ll be so sure of what you want that you won’t care who knows.”
“You sure about that?” Biana jumped in. “This is Sophie.”
“I’m sure,” Edaline promised. “And I’m betting Sophie’s had about all she can stand of this conversation—and we should probably get downstairs and get you covered in ash. It’s getting close to midnight.”
Edaline sounded as nervous as Sophie felt, but they both kept their heads high as they made their way back to the living room.
“Are they seriously still arguing?” Biana whispered to Tam.
“Yup. You’re going to have to settle this, Sophie,” he said.
“How?” Sophie asked.
Biana clapped her hands and shouted for everyone to be quiet. “Who here thinks that Sophie should be the one to pick who fills the last slot, since it’s her family and she’s the moonlark?”
“Hey, don’t dump this on me!” Sophie whisper-hissed.
“Sorry, Miss Foster, but I agree,” Mr. Forkle called from the doorway. “But before you choose, I have one other option you should consider. I kept asking myself if there was any particular special ability that would provide an advantage on this mission—and yes, Mr. Ruewen and Mr. Vacker, I know what your answers will be. But I came to a different conclusion—one I resisted at first, as I suspect you will as well. All I ask is that you hear me out before you make your decision. And can we all agree that whatever Sophie decides, we will respect it without further debate?”
It took a few seconds before Sandor, Grizel, Fitz, and Grady nodded.
Mr. Forkle strode into the room, pacing the length twice. “Looking at your group, you have stealth covered quite nicely. But you’re lacking in the area of defense. And I realize that slot is usually filled by bodyguards, but in this case, that’s not an ideal option. You need something unexpected, in case Lady Gisela conveniently forgot to mention something. Or in case the Neverseen are prepared.”
He paused to clear his throat.
Then cleared it again before he added, “And since you’ll be facing creatures that are only vulnerable to fire, your best defense is to bring a Pyrokinetic.”
Forty-two
A PYROKINETIC,” SOPHIE repeated, certain she must have misunderstood.
But Mr. Forkle nodded—and the gravity of what he was proposing seemed to suck all the air out of the room.
“If you’re suggesting that you trigger the ability in Sophie—” Grady started, but Mr. Forkle held up his hand.
“No, Mr. Ruewen. My team and I were extremely careful to ensure that Miss Foster could never manifest as a Pyrokinetic. We knew her life would be challenging enough without a forbidden ability. Pyrokinesis is also far too volatile to risk combining with anything else.”
Sophie couldn’t help a small sigh of relief.
“Does she still have more abilities you could trigger?” Fitz asked.
“That is a subject for another time,” Mr. Forkle told him. “Right now, we need to decide if you’re bringing a Pyrokinetic on this mission.”
“Which Pyrokinetic?” Grady asked. “Aren’t they all a little . . .”
“Unstable?” Mr. Forkle guessed.
“I was
thinking more along the lines of ‘out of practice,’ since they haven’t been able to use their ability in thousands of years,” Grady told him.
“They’re definitely that as well. And denying their natural talent has been far more of a struggle for them than most people realize. Brant and Fintan aren’t the only ones who lost part of themselves to their constant craving for flame. So I would never recommend any of the Pyrokinetics in the registry.”
“Then who—” Sophie started, before his words clicked. “Are you saying there’s another unregistered Pyrokinetic?”
Mr. Forkle nodded. “Someone manifested recently, and I’ve been doing what I can to ensure their ability remains undiscovered. But they’ve agreed to reveal themselves and help with this mission, provided that all of you swear not to tell anyone. Not even Mr. Dizznee or Miss Linh can be let in on this secret without express permission from the Pyrokinetic. Is that clear?”
“Does the Collective know about it?” Sophie had to ask.
“No. Given the recent havoc wrought by Fintan and Brant, people distrust Pyrokinetics more than they ever have before—even many of us in the Black Swan. And I know it’s with good reason”—his eyes focused on Grady and Edaline before drifting back to Sophie—“and I echo many of your concerns. But I do struggle with the idea of any ability being completely denied. If we’re willing to accept that every creature exists on this planet for a purpose, it seems only logical to assume that every ability does as well. They come straight from our genetics, after all. And any harm or heartache that pyrokinesis has caused in the past does not feel like proof that the ability is unredeemable—only that we need better training and systems to manage it. Think of Miss Linh, and the floods she caused before she learned to properly harness her hydrokinesis. Would any of us argue that she should’ve been forbidden from calling for water ever again?”
“Fintan wasn’t a newly manifested, untrained prodigy when his craving for Everblaze led to the death of five of his fellow Pyrokinetics,” Grady reminded him. “Nor was Brant when he murdered Jolie.”