Keeper of the Lost Cities (18 page)

“Well, let me check it out.” As he got up, a slinky gray creature hissed and scurried across the floor. “Don’t mind Bullhorn,” Elwin said as Sophie backed against the door. “He’s harmless.”

Bullhorn looked like a demented ferret with beady purple eyes. “What is he?”

“A banshee. Adorable, isn’t he?”

“Uh, sure.” Bullhorn snapped at her ankles. Keefe laughed.

“What brings you here today, Keefe?” Elwin asked.

“Just helping a fellow prodigy, sir.”

Elwin grinned. “I notice you’ve had to miss your session to do it.”

“I know. Such a shame.” He sighed dramatically. “But Sophie needed help, so what could I do?”

“What, indeed? And I suppose you’ll be wanting a pass to excuse you.”

“What a good idea.”

“You always have been one to seize an opportunity.” Elwin handed Keefe a slip of paper. “Session won’t be over for another half hour, so I’d walk slow if I were you.”

“Oh, I can’t leave yet—not until I know Sophie will be okay.”

“Mmm-hmm. So, where’s the burn?” he asked Sophie.

She wanted to be brave in front of Keefe, but her arm still shook when Elwin put his funny glasses on and flashed a blue orb of light around her hand.

Elwin frowned. “This looks like an acid burn. How did you manage that?”

“Um . . . slight accident in my alchemy session.”

Keefe mimed a huge explosion, complete with sound effects. “Destroyed Galvin’s cape.”

Elwin dropped her hand, cracking up. “Wish I could have seen
that
! Sorry,” he added when he caught her scowl. “Have a seat so I can treat it.”

He had Sophie sit on one of the beds and grabbed a small jar from one of the shelves. She tried to stay calm as he rubbed purple salve on the burn, but Keefe saw her flinch.

“Out of curiosity,” Elwin asked. “How did you explode the serum?”

“I’m not sure. I measured everything twice, and added it in the order I was supposed to, but when I whipped it, it exploded.”

“Whipped it?” Keefe interrupted.

“Yeah. At first I thought it said ‘whap,’ but I figured I read it wrong so I whipped it.”

Elwin and Keefe both burst into hysterical laughter.

“
WHAP
means ‘wash hands and present,’” Keefe managed to explain between laughs.

Oh.

She was officially an idiot. Why didn’t she ask for clarification?

Elwin cleared his throat. “It’s an honest mistake. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

It didn’t. It happened to
her
.
She knew she wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.

“This is going to be
epic
!” Keefe said, confirming her fear. “I can’t
wait
for tomorrow!”

She sighed. At least that made one of them.

A
HIGHLY EMBELLISHED VERSION Of
the Great Cape Destruction
spread through the school faster than the white fires in her old city, and Sophie knew Keefe had everything to do with it. Even her Mentors had heard about it.

Sir Conley
joked that they’d have to work their way up to bottling fire in elementalism, so she wouldn’t burn down the school. Lady Anwen told her in multispeciesial studies that she hadn’t laughed so hard in 324 years. And Sir Faxon had to cancel his metaphysics lecture because he snorted lushberry juice all over his clothes.

Once again Sophie could feel everyone watching her as she wandered the halls—except this time they wanted to know her. Kids invited her to sit with them during lunch. They introduced themselves during orientation, between classes. They complimented her eyes. Dex told her the next week they were getting requests for brown-eye drops at Slurps and Burps. He was in the process of trying to create them.

Sophie couldn’t believe it. Overnight she’d somehow become . . . popular.

Grady was relieved when she told him. The more she belonged at Foxfire, the harder it would be for Bronte to get her expelled.

But she refused to take anything for granted. She still sat with Marella during lunch. Dex joined them when his detention was over, and Jensi slipped in a few days later—but he’d reached out to her on her first day, so he was allowed.

Plus, her sessions were incredibly challenging. Lady Galvin didn’t fail her, but she made her work on the opposite side of the room, which turned out to be a wise decision. Fires and explosions were a regular occurrence. The problem was, Sophie didn’t just have to learn, she had to
unlearn
a lifetime of human knowledge, where things like alkahest didn’t exist. All the laws she’d learned in chemistry were wrong, and tripped her up.

She had the same problem with some of her other sessions. Levitating was supposed to be impossible. So was catching wind in jars and bottling rainbows. She constantly had to remind herself not to trust her instincts, because they were all wrong, and even when she tried her hardest, she still messed things up.

Which was why her telepathy sessions became the highlight of her week. Every skill came effortlessly, and she was amazed at the things she could do with her mind. Tiergan taught her how to shield her brain from unwanted human thoughts—in case she was ever around humans again—and how to transmit
her thoughts into someone else’s mind. She even learned how to project mental images onto special paper—like a psychic photograph.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t mind being a Telepath. It was actually pretty cool—and no one could deny her talent. Even Bronte wouldn’t be able to.

Too bad she had to keep it secret. It would’ve been fun to shut Stina up whenever she teased Sophie about needing
remedial studies
. Stina still hadn’t manifested a special ability, so it would kill her to know Sophie was a Telepath—being trained by the greatest telepathy Mentor ever. But she’d have to be patient. Stina would learn the truth eventually.

Plus, she had other problems. Biana avoided her like the plague, and Sophie had a strong suspicion she was keeping Fitz away from her. Two months had passed since she’d moved to Havenfield, and except for a couple waves across the hall, she hadn’t seen or talked to him. She missed him—more than she wanted to admit.

The next week Sophie finally saw Biana waiting for the Leapmaster without her snotty friend Maruca—another member of the I-Hate-Sophie-Foster Club—and decided to try reaching out.

Biana spotted her and cut in line, leaping home before Sophie could reach her.

The sigh Sophie let out sounded more like a growl.

“What’s wrong?” Dex asked, catching up with her.

“Biana. I don’t know what her problem is, but I’m really getting sick of it.”

“She’s just jealous. She’s used to being the prettiest girl in school.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned bright red.

Sophie knew her face had to be redder than his.

Neither of them seemed to know what to say after that, so she waved goodbye and leaped back to Havenfield without another word.

SHE CAME HOME TO TOTAL
bedlam. Grady and Edaline were struggling to subdue a very angry woolly mammoth, and the gnomes were chasing a small pack of rabbits with antlers.

“You’re just in time,” Grady called to her as he ducked under a swinging trunk. He pointed to a lump of trembling purple fur. “Can you get the verminion in a pen?”

“Uh . . . sure.”

“Thanks.” Grady boosted Edaline onto the mammoth’s back. The huge, hairy elephant trumpeted in protest—an earthshaking squeal that left Sophie’s ears ringing.

Sophie crept toward the purple mound of fur, hoping the verminion was as timid as it looked. A twig snapped under her foot.

Hiiiissssssssssss!

The creature uncurled, revealing a giant rodent face with glassy black eyes, pointy fangs, and bulging cheeks. She’d always thought hamsters were pretty cute, but this rottweiler-size beast was Hamsterzilla, and it looked ready to trample her like a Japanese city.

“Nice hamster—verminion—thing,” she cooed, taking a step away.

SNAARRRLLL!

Hamsterzilla was not impressed.

“You have to make it chase you to the pen, Sophie,” Edaline shouted as she tried to steer her mammoth by its furry ears.

“How do I do that?”

Grady dashed after Edaline. “Get it mad.”

“But—what if it catches me?”

“It won’t,” Edaline promised.

“Better run really fast, just in case,” Grady added.

Sophie knew this would probably end up in the top fifty stupidest things she’d done, but she picked up a huge clod of mud and nailed the verminion in the gut.

GROOOWWWWLLLL!

She took the hint and bolted for the nearest pen, only to realize Grady’s plan had a fatal flaw. The verminion blocked the only exit, and he seemed to know it. She could’ve sworn his beady eyes were laughing at her.

“A little help here?” she called as the mutant hamster closed in.

“On it!” The gnomes took over helping Edaline, and Grady raced across the yard, jumped the verminion, and pinned it. Purple fur flew as the beast thrashed to escape.

Grady grunted. “Okay, Sophie. I want you to put one hand on each of his cheeks and press as hard as you can.”

After a few tries—and a lot of snarling—she managed to get her hands in position and squeeze. The verminion’s jaw unlocked and an assortment of dead furry things spewed all over the ground.

“Ew,” she whined.

“I know,” Grady agreed. “There’s a pile of bags and some gloves in the shed so you can clean it up.”

She stared at the mound of flesh and fur.

“We can trade jobs,” Grady offered. The verminion growled again.

Sophie sighed as she trudged to the shed, slipped on the oversize gloves, and made her way back to the pile. “I am so taking a shower after this.”

She threw dead squirrels and rats and things she couldn’t begin to identify into the heavy burlap sack. One moved in her hand and she squealed, jumping back.

“What?”

“That thing isn’t dead!”

“You’d better take it to Edaline, then, see if there’s anything she can do.”

Sophie stared at the quivering ball of gray fur, afraid to touch it again.

“My arms are getting pretty tired here, Sophie.”

SNARL!
the verminion added.

She steeled her nerves and threw the rest of the dead things into the sack. Then she picked up the live creature, trying not to shriek as he trembled in her hands.

He was the size of her palm, with enormous green eyes, furry ears, and batlike wings. His tiny chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

Sophie raced across the pastures toward the shed. “Edaline! I need your help.”

Edaline rushed to her side, wiping mammoth wool off her tunic.

Sophie held out the suffering creature. “Do you think you can save him?”

Edaline’s gentle fingers probed through the fur. “He has some deep scratches, and his leg looks broken—but we can try.”

Sophie followed Edaline into one of the stone outbuildings. Beyond the shelves of carefully organized supplies was a space set up like a veterinarian’s office. Edaline laid the creature flat on its back on a sterile table, spreading out his limbs and wings. She smeared a yellow salve over the wounds, then set the leg and conjured up an eyedropper and a bottle of Youth. She dripped a single drop of liquid onto his furry lips. Sophie squeezed Edaline’s arm as a tiny purple tongue popped out and licked the drop of water.

Edaline stared where Sophie’s hand touched her. Her eyes turned glassy.

Sophie pulled away. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s . . .” She cleared her throat. “Can you keep an eye on him while I help Grady finish up?”

“Sure.” She waited for Edaline to leave, then placed another drop on the creature’s lips. “Don’t die, little guy,” she whispered, watching his tongue pull the water into his mouth. Twelve drops later and his breathing was steady. He curled into a tiny ball.

“That’s a good boy,” Sophie cooed, stroking the fur along his back. He rewarded her with a squeaky rumbling in his chest. She smiled, remembering Marty’s crackly purr.

“How’s the patient?” Grady asked from the doorway. He stood next to Edaline, both of them watching Sophie with small smiles.

“I think he’s doing better. He drank a bunch of water and now he’s sleeping.”

Edaline nodded. “That’s a good sign. Do you want to wash up and have some dinner?”

“Can I bring him with me? I don’t want to leave him alone.”

Grady grabbed a small cage from one of the shelves and filled it with dinosaur fluff from a nearby barrel before handing it to her. “Good job, Sophie. You saved his life.”

She brought the cage inside and—after an incredibly hot, soapy shower—met Grady and Edaline downstairs for dinner. She kept the cage with her at the table to keep an eye on the creature. He’d rolled onto his back with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out. If it weren’t for the chain-saw-esque snores vibrating the cage, she might have worried he was dead.

“What is he?” she asked with a mouthful of brattail, a tuber that tasted like sausage.

“An imp,” Grady grumbled. “They’re trouble. When I was a kid, one got inside my tree house. I’ve never seen such a disaster.”

“You want to keep him, don’t you?” Edaline guessed.

Sophie shrugged. “Maybe.”

Edaline smiled.

“You aren’t seriously thinking about this, Eda? Have you been around an imp before?”

“Please tell me you’re not afraid of a six-inch ball of fur,” Edaline teased.

“You should’ve seen my tree house. Plus, they bite—did you know that? And their bite is venomous. It won’t kill you, but it stings—a lot.”

Sophie looked at the tiny snoring body and tried to see the vicious monster Grady was describing. All she found was a cute little lump of fur, whose life she had saved.

“Grady, we tame dinosaurs and yetis. We can handle an imp,” Edaline argued.

Grady laughed. “I can see I’m outnumbered here. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sophie and Edaline shared a smile. Then Edaline helped her bring the cage to her room. Sophie chose a table by the window so the little guy would have sunlight during the day, and crouched down to check on him. He was still conked out, snoring like a wood chipper.