Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) (20 page)

“Pyrokinesis was forbidden because your insatiable craving for power killed five people. You supported the decision when you resigned from the Council.”

“That was a regrettable mistake,” Fintan whispered. “And I understood the need for change. But then I
lived
the life they’d relegated me to. Treated like the Talentless—with no way to satisfy my craving for flame. It’s a daily struggle not to let my sanity slip away.”

“I’m not so certain you’ve succeeded.”

Alden’s voice was cold, but Sophie couldn’t help feeling a
tiny stab of sympathy for Fintan. Having a special ability meant everything in their world. She could imagine how frustrating it would be to have one and have to deny it. And if his body actually craved it . . .

“And that’s only a small problem,” Fintan added, his voice building steam. “Left to their own devices the Council will let everything we’ve built crumble to dust. Someone had to stand up and fight for what matters—and while I’m not the one who cast the first sparks, I
am
willing to help keep the flames alive.”

“The flames have been extinguished!” Alden shouted.

Fintan snorted a laugh. “That’s the funny thing about rebellions. You can’t stop them until they’ve consumed everything that fuels them. And from where I sit I see
plenty
of kindling.” His eyes locked with Sophie’s. “She’s as much a part of it as I am—never forget that.”

“She’s not a part of anything.”

“If that were true, then why is she here?” He stared at Sophie again, the kind of stare that made her want to squirm or hide because it was like he was looking through her instead of at her. “You’re choosing the wrong side, Alden. If anyone’s mind should be broken, it’s hers.
She’s
hiding more secrets than anyone.”

Alden grabbed his shoulders. “That’s enough!”

Sophie forced air into her lungs and tried to shove his horrible words out of her mind, but they’d already rooted themselves to her fears.

“Enough,” Alden repeated. He took a deep breath and turned to face Sophie. “Are you ready for this?”

She gave a shaky nod.

“Doing this brings me no joy, Fintan,” Alden told him quietly. “But this group—this rebellion you’re protecting—
will
be stopped. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what matters.”

Fintan’s glare screamed a million snide insults. But all he said was, “Well, then I guess you’d better get started, shouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I believe I should.” Alden stepped back, smoothing his hair and rubbing his temples. “Last chance.”

All the color had drained from Fintan’s face, but he still gritted his teeth and said, “I’m not the first to sacrifice myself for the cause—and I won’t be the last.”

“And your sacrifice will be for nothing. I’ll find whatever you’re hiding in the break.”

“You’ll never find it in time. I know how to protect my secrets. And if I can, I’ll drag you down with me.”

“You’ll only hurt yourself if you try.” Alden turned to Sophie. “I’ll need you to keep physical contact with me.”

Sophie stumbled over to him, her palm slick with sweat as she curled her fingers around his wrist. “What am I—how do I—I don’t know—”

“Relax, Sophie. Your job is incredibly easy. All you have to do is open your mind to mine and stay connected. If you feel
my thoughts start to slip away, simply call for me to guide me back. Think you can handle that?”

“But he said he can drag you down.”

“He’s just trying to scare you. The worst he can do is block me from finding what he’s hiding before his mind shatters. Just keep your eyes closed and try not to pay attention to anything you see. I’ll work as fast as I can.”

“How long will it take?” she whispered.

“No more than a few minutes.”

Fintan laughed, cold and sharp. “That’s what you think.”

Alden ignored him, placing his hands on Fintan’s temples. “Go ahead and connect to my thoughts, Sophie. Let me know when you’re ready.”

She felt too overwhelmed to think. But she closed her eyes and tried to stretch out her mind and . . .

. . . thought she might be sick all over the floor.

She took a deep breath and tried to tell herself that this was no different than trying a new skill in her telepathy session. It didn’t help as much as she’d wanted, but when she tried again she was able to spread out her consciousness enough to reach Alden’s mind.

Alden’s thoughts filled her head, rippling like a soft breeze

There’s no reason to worry, Sophie. I trust you.

Telling her not to worry was like telling her not to breathe. But all she said was,
Be careful.

You too.

She counted each passing breath, wondering how she would know when the memory break started. Would something change? Would it feel suddenly different?

Then Alden’s mind dimmed and turned cold—and Fintan started to scream.

S
OPHIE TIGHTENED HER GRIP ON
Alden’s wrist, forcing herself to stay connected as a flood of images poured through his mind. She tried not to focus on them, tried to let them all wash through her consciousness and fade away.

But the Everblaze burned too brightly to be ignored.

She watched through Fintan’s eyes as he and five other elves in deep orange capes stretched their arms toward the night sky. She felt his head throb as he concentrated on the tiny pricks of heat radiating from the twinkling stars, but he focused through the pain and counted to three. Together as one, the six of them called the warmth down to earth.

For a second the heat ignored them. Then six lines of
neon yellow flame streaked toward the elves, gaining speed with every second. The others gasped and backed away, but Fintan held his ground, opening his palms and ordering the fire to bend to his will. The flames twisted and coiled into an elephant-size fireball that hovered above him.

Tears pricked his eyes as he soaked up the power of a purer, richer, more magnificent fire than had ever graced the earth before. But the blaze refused to stay contained and the fireball erupted, raining bits of scattered flame.

Fintan shielded his face with his cape, but the falling sparks attached to the fireproof fabric and ignited. He tossed the garment to the hungry flames and jumped through the fire line, tumbling across a patch of cool grass that hadn’t yet succumbed to the blaze.

Coughs racked his chest, and his skin was red and raw and throbbed with a pain he didn’t understand, like being stabbed by hundreds of scalding needles.

His first burns.

But he was alive.

And he was alone.

Flashes of orange thrashed among the yellow flames, and Fintan stumbled to his feet, realizing they were the figures of his friends. He shouted at the heat to subside, but the blaze swelled higher, crackling like it was laughing at him. All he could do was watch their agonized faces as the fire attacked. Then he dropped to his knees and vomited.

Sophie felt like doing the same.

She tried to shove the horror out of her mind, but it was like the memory was seared behind her eyes. She could only watch helplessly as Fintan fumbled for his pathfinder, hating himself for ignoring the bone-chilling cries of his friends as he held it up to the light.

Before he glittered away, the memory shattered.

Sophie yanked her consciousness back as the scene splintered to a million glinting shards that were swallowed by the darkness of Fintan’s mind.

Alden groaned.

Are you okay?
she asked, squeezing his wrist.

He’s destroying the things he doesn’t want me to see.
I have to work faster. Brace yourself.

The shower of images turned into an icy downpour. Then to a raging flood. But the memories kept warping and twisting, and when Alden tried to focus them they vaporized to a thick fog that clouded everything.

His Ancient mind is too strong,
Alden told her.
If I’m going to salvage any memories, I need you to boost me with your concentration.

How do I do that?

Send some of your energy into his mind. It’s like transmitting, but with force instead of words. Can you do that?

I’ll try.

Sophie shoved any other thoughts out of her head and
pulled all of the energy stored in her inner core into her mind. It tingled and hummed as she wrapped her consciousness around it, and when she had a firm hold, she shoved it into Fintan’s head, filling it with warmth.

The thick fog thinned, but didn’t melt away.

I’ll have to find another way,
Alden told her—but his mental voice sounded weary.

Wait—let me try something.

Mental energy seemed to be more powerful than core energy—maybe a brain push was what they needed.

She focused on the energy buzzing at the edge of her consciousness, letting it surge and swell until her head felt ready to explode from the pressure.

Ready?
she transmitted, not wanting to catch Alden off guard.

On three
, he replied.

One.

Two.

Three!

She pushed the mental energy out of her head in a rush of heat.

It wasn’t until the force collided against the other energy that she remembered her disastrous splotching match against Fitz—the first time she’d performed a brain push. Mental energy and core energy couldn’t mix, and with the two trapped inside one mind they twisted and swirled
around each other, forming a cyclone of heat that made Fintan scream.

Sophie panicked, trying to draw the energy back—but Alden ordered her to wait. She held her breath as the vortex of energy wound tighter and tighter. Finally, the pressure was too much and it collapsed and imploded, melting away the mental fog and revealing a memory hidden underneath.

An elf in long red robes. The features of his face were a murky blur of shadow and color, but Sophie watched through Fintan’s eyes as he helped the elf stretch out his arm and curl his fingers into some sort of very specific fist and point it at the sky. Then Fintan jumped back as the elf flicked his wrist and a small ball of neon yellow flame sprang to life, hovering above his palm.

Everblaze.

Alden tried to force the memory into focus, but before he could, Fintan shouted and a wave of heat shot up Alden’s arm, burning Sophie’s hand.

The scene shattered.

The entire stream of memories cracked and splintered, crumbling into tiny, unrecognizable shards. Sophie pulled her concentration back before she was sucked into the chaos, but she felt Alden’s consciousness slip away, leaving her suddenly cold.

She ripped her eyes open as his wrist slipped from her grasp and his body hit the floor with a thump. Her head throbbed
and her hand ached, but she ignored the pain as the room came into focus.

Fintan sat slumped in his chair, muttering incoherently.

Alden lay unconscious, a large gash on his forehead streaking his face with red.

Her stomach heaved at the sight, and she tried not to look at the blood as she dropped to her knees and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“What happened?” Krikor asked, rushing into the room as Sophie shouted Alden’s name and tried to shake him awake.

“I don’t know—he must’ve hit his head when he fell.”

She shook Alden again but it made no difference. Neither did Krikor’s slapping Alden’s cheeks.

Krikor wiped the blood away with the fur of his arm and examined the wound. Then he pried Alden’s eyelids open, frowning at the blank whites. “I do not think the problem is physical.”

Sophie glanced at Fintan, who was rocking back and forth. His cracked lips were turned up at the ends in a twisted smile.

Could he have dragged Alden down with him?

Tears turned everything to a blur, but Sophie blinked them back. Now was not the time for crying. Now was the time to be a guide.

She placed her shaky fingers against Alden’s temples, transmitting his name over and over as she pushed her consciousness into his mind. His head felt cold and dark and was
hauntingly quiet. No whisper of thoughts. No trace of memories. It was like Alden was
gone
and she was wading through an empty shell.

You promised nothing would go wrong,
her mind screamed as she fanned out her thoughts, trying to feel in every direction at once. The cold pounded against her brain, and a tiny trickle felt like it was seeping in. But as she waded through the darkness she found something
warmer
. Clearer, somehow. She followed the feeling until she reached what felt like a small space. A warm nook.

But it was empty too.

Come back,
she ordered him.
We need you.

She filled the space with memories of Fitz and Della and Biana, the people who loved Alden and needed him and would never be the same if he left them.

You have to
come back for them.

A tiny speck of light flashed through the darkness. Sophie wrapped her consciousness around it, like cupping her hands around a fledgling flame, shielding it so the shadows couldn’t snuff it out. She fed it more images of Alden’s family and friends and pulled it into the nook. A safe place to let it grow.

Brightness and warmth seeped around her, flooding the space with memories—happy scenes of family and friends. She stared at her own face, surprised to find herself in the mix.

Then Alden’s mind whispered,
I’m here.

S
OPHIE WASN’T SURE IF SHE
wanted to collapse or cry as she threw her arms around Alden and squeezed as hard as she could. His heartbeat rang in her ears and his chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths, promising that he was alive.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice weak and shaky.

She leaned back to take a better look at him. His beautiful teal eyes looked dull and tired, and his hair was matted against his forehead from the blood still streaming down his face.