Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (11 page)

“Doesn’t seem complicated to me,” she grumbled.

Bronte laughed—a harsh, crackly sound. “For once Miss Foster and I are in agreement. I would very much like to
understand what’s so complicated about using your talents to serve our world. Isn’t that the obligation of those gifted with special abilities? To use them to aid the greater good?”

“Grady does a tremendous service for us here at Havenfield,” Alden said, when Grady didn’t respond. “Need I remind you of how many creatures he and Edaline have successfully rehabilitated?”

Bronte rolled his eyes. “Please—that’s a job even someone Talentless could do.”

“And yet, not five minutes ago you were arguing that the complexities of caring for Silveny required special expertise, were you not? So which is it?” Alden’s voice was calm, but thin lines had crept across his face, betraying his frustration.

Or was it worry?

“Successfully rehabilitating the rarest creature in our world is
quite
different from training a T. rex to eat salad. Not only that, it’s an honor and a privilege that should be given to someone
worthy.
I’m sure Timkin Heks wouldn’t hesitate to enlist as an Emissary if we called upon him to do so.”

“No, I rather suspect that’s his entire motivation for offering his services in the first place,” Alden said with a rueful smile. “His quest for prominence is hardly a secret.”

“His motivation for volunteering is no more selfish than Grady’s refusal to be reinstated,” Bronte snapped back.

“Selfish? You dare to claim my reasoning is
selfish
?”

Silveny whinnied at Grady’s outburst, and Sophie rushed to her side to calm her.

Grady stalked toward Bronte, standing so close their noses practically touched. “You know full well why I resigned—and given recent events, you should understand my objections even more. Havenfield is the best place to house Silveny, and Sophie is the most capable person for the job. If you’re too afraid of public scorn to accept that decision, then you deserve every bit of the criticism you’re receiving. Transfer the alicorn to the Hekses if you wish—but I will not let you bully me into submission.”

“Grady, please,” Alden called as Grady stormed away, leaving Sophie behind with the twelve stunned Councillors.

“Insolent fool,” Bronte grumbled. “I vote we relocate the alicorn immediately.”

Several of the Councillors murmured their agreement and Sophie’s heart sank. Silveny may be driving her crazy, but the stubborn horse didn’t deserve to be at the mercy of the Hekses. She could remember all too well the feel of Silveny’s terror as they jerked her around in that miserable harness.

She reached up and rubbed Silveny’s nose, right where the straps had cut in.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Councillor Emery said, waiting for everyone to quiet before he continued. “Can we really discount Miss Foster’s connection to this creature?”

Sophie tried to stand tall as twelve pairs of eyes turned to scrutinize her. Sure, she was young, and new to their world,
and still learning how to control her abilities, and currently covered in shimmering manure. But Grady and Alden were right—she could do this.
Way
better than the Hekses could.

Oralie’s quiet voice broke the silence. “I think we should let Sophie try. I can feel her determination from here—as well as the bond between her and Silveny. Those advantages are far superior to what little experience the Heks family may have.”

“I agree with Oralie,” Kenric chimed in.

Bronte snorted. “Of course you do.”

To be fair, Kenric did seem to favor the pretty blond Councillor over the others.

“I’m inclined to agree as well,” Councillor Emery announced, motivating three of the Councillors whom Sophie didn’t know to vote in her favor as well. Which made the vote six to six. Unless someone else changed their mind.

Sophie glanced at Councillor Terik. He was studying her with his intense, almost probing stare, and after what felt like an eternity he said, “I vote that we see what Sophie can do with this creature. If her progress isn’t what it should be, we can always reassess.”

“So, we have a majority then!” Alden sounded more relieved than pleased.

“For now.” Bronte turned to glare at Sophie. “We need the alicorn moved to the Sanctuary as soon as possible. If you don’t make
rapid
progress, we’ll have no choice but to turn her over to the Hekses.”

“I can handle it,” Sophie promised.

“We’ll see. And be sure to tell your father we’ll be monitoring your progress closely.”

“He’s not my
father
.”

A
father
wouldn’t refuse to help find her kidnappers. And she didn’t want to be the daughter of anyone who would let Silveny suffer at the hands of the Hekses just to avoid working for the Council.

But . . . Grady wasn’t callous—especially when it came to animals. There had to be something he wasn’t telling her. Something
big
.

“Yes, well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Alden said, forcing a smile. “The Councillors had been hoping for a demonstration of how you interact with Silveny, Sophie, but I think it would be better to do that another time. Perhaps when there are a few less feces.”

Sophie scowled, but several of the Councillors smiled as they reached for their pathfinders, and the tension that had been tangled around them seemed to ease. Even Sandor snickered.

I need to talk to you,
she transmitted to Alden, not wanting to tell the entire Council about the charm.
It’s about the Black Swan.

Alden didn’t react to her transmissions, but he told the Council, “I’m leaving right now for my next assignment, and will be away for a few days. Perhaps we can regroup then?” A tiny wink at the end told her he meant the last part for her.

Part of her was relieved. Sophie wasn’t sure if Alden would make her turn over the charm, and she needed to figure out the clue first.

So she dipped another ungraceful curtsy and watched Alden and the Councillors glitter away. Then she ran for her room, stripped off her soiled outfit, and jumped into a scalding shower. When all trace of sparkles and manure had been scrubbed away, she changed into fresh work clothes and rushed downstairs, vowing to make it very clear to Silveny that there would be no more headache-inducing demands, unexpected flights, or poop-filled landings.

Sophie froze when she spotted Grady sitting with Edaline at the kitchen table.

“Is something wrong, Miss Foster?” Sandor asked as he swerved to avoid crashing into her.

She was trying to decide if she wanted to talk to Grady. But all she said was, “Just checking on Silveny. She’s finally quieted down.”

“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.”

B
UT . . . 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.