Keeper of the Lost Cities (23 page)

“Aren’t you nervous?”

“Nah, I’m awesome at tests. Photographic memory.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “You too?”

“You have a photographic memory? Then what are you freaking out about?”

“Because it doesn’t help as much as you think.”

“Sure it does. How else do you think I got a year ahead? It sure wasn’t my work ethic.”

“You’re a year ahead?” She’d never realized he was younger than Fitz.

“Yep. It’s my big claim to fame. I skipped Level One. Kinda like you.”

“I didn’t skip it. I missed it.”

“Same thing.”

It wasn’t, but she didn’t have time to argue. The bells chimed the end of lunch.

For a second she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get up.

Keefe pulled her to her feet. “That means it’s time to go, in case you didn’t realize. Seriously, Foster, you have to relax. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I feel sick,” she admitted, wobbling.

He jerked away. “Thanks for the warning. No need to share
that
feeling. Look, I’m not good at the serious, supportive thing—but trust me, you’re going to be fine.”

“How do you know?”

He grinned. “I have a feeling you can do pretty much anything you put your mind to. So stop doubting yourself and go prove me right. You know, so I can brag about it.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks.” She took a deep, calming breath, squared her shoulders, and ordered her legs to walk. Mercifully, they obeyed.

Lady Galvin was still setting up when she entered the room. Sophie’s heart stalled when she saw the deep magenta berries and the rusty iron key. Lady Galvin may be giving Sophie the easiest discipline, but she certainly hadn’t chosen an easy project.

“Does the cap even work on you?” Lady Galvin asked, her eyes boring into Sophie’s.

Sophie shook her head, not quite brave enough to speak the words.

“Will you be picking the secrets out of my brain, then?”

She shook her head again.

“Why should I believe you?”

She cleared her throat and forced her mouth to work. “I want to pass on my own.”

Lady Galvin stared at her for a second before she blinked. “You must purify the iron key using only ruckleberries. You have fifty-five minutes. I suggest you get started.”

Ruckleberries were nasty, stinky little berries that brought impurities to the surface of a metal. They also made your skin wrinkle like an elderly human’s if any of the juice got on you—and you’d smell like feet all day—so most alchemists used other methods to purify metal. But it was the assignment. Sophie had no choice but to dive in and do her best.

Her palms were so sweaty it was hard to hold the knife as she pierced the first berry and dribbled the juice on the key. She tried to work slow and careful, but a few drops still ended up on her pinky, making it look crinkled and haggard, and the glacial pace made her run out of time. Only three quarters of the key had turned the gleaming black color she was going for, but she hoped it was enough. Lady Galvin’s face was unreadable when she turned it in, and she glared at Sophie’s wrinkled pinky. Points would clearly be deducted.

Sophie finished out the day with a decent essay on ogres for multispeciesial studies and a mediocre performance on her last two exams. Her channeling went well in phys. ed.—until Lady Alexine ran back and forth through the walls and broke her concentration. And she managed to bottle three different clouds in elementalism, but it took four tries to bottle a whirlwind and the bottle had a crack from the pressure. Sir Conley didn’t look impressed when she handed it in.

Completely exhausted, she trudged back to the atrium to meet Dex.

“Well,
that
was brutal,” he whined, slamming his locker closed. “How’d it go for you?”

She slumped against the wall. “I did the best I could.”

“I guess you can’t ask for more than that.” He tried to smooth his wild hat hair. “You staying home tonight?”

“No. Grady and Edaline are taking me shopping.”

“Whoa. That’ll be the first time they’ve gone out in public together since . . . you know.”

She did know. Grady and Edaline hadn’t left the house together since Jolie died. Sophie told them they didn’t have to, but Grady insisted. Foxfire tradition held that at the end of midterms all the prodigies hung their thinking caps upside down from hooks on their lockers. The next day everyone filled each other’s hats with presents and opened them while their parents met with their Mentors to find out their grades. Sophie’s legs felt weak just thinking about it.

She loved the idea of presents and hanging out with her friends, but having Grady and Edaline know if she failed before she did sent chills down her spine. Why couldn’t elves send out report cards like human schools?

“Are you going shopping tonight?” she asked Dex.

“Nope. My parents think it’s too much hassle to take all four of us, and they can never find babysitters for the triplets.” Bitterness edged into his voice. “But don’t worry”—he nudged her arm—“I already made your present.”

“You made my present?” At first she was touched, but then she thought about it. “Wait, it’s not some solution that’s going to turn my hair green, is it?”

Dex flashed a slightly evil grin. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

GRADY AND EDALINE TOOK SOPHIE
to Atlantis. She hadn’t been there since the day Alden and Fitz brought her—the day her human life ended—and she still hadn’t figured out how to feel about any of that. She’d been with the elves a little more than three months now, and she’d come a long way. But she still had a long way to go.

Passing her midterms was the biggest obstacle.

She glared at her wrinkled pinky. How many points would she lose for the mistake? And how many more for not finishing?

Grady squeezed her shoulder when he caught her tugging out an eyelash. “Try to stop stressing, Sophie. We’re here to have fun, not worry about grades.”

She was tempted to point out that Grady and Edaline looked more stressed than she did. Their shoulders were rigid, their jaws set, and Edaline had deep shadows under her eyes. But they were making a huge sacrifice for her. The least she could do was enjoy herself.

It took seven stores to find suitable gifts for all of her friends, and with each store Grady and Edaline looked more strained. The worst was the jewelry store. The woman who ran the shop remembered them. Apparently, they used to come in all the time to buy new charms for a charm bracelet—which had obviously belonged to Jolie.

Sophie took Edaline’s hand.

Edaline jumped. Then her eyes welled with tears and she squeezed Sophie’s hand and didn’t let go. Grady took Sophie’s other hand, and they walked that way for the rest of the night.

When they got home, Grady stopped her on her way to her room.

“I’m glad you came to live with us, Sophie. It’s . . .” His mouth formed a word, then changed to a different one. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad I live here too,” she whispered.

He cleared his throat. “Big day tomorrow. Better get some sleep.”

“Good night, Grady.”

Even though she was terrified about her exam grades, she fell asleep believing that everything was going to be okay.

F
OXFIRE WAS ALMOST UNRECOGNIZABLE.
Silver streamers wrapped every tree, every shrub, every tower—like the school had been toilet-papered with tinsel. Confetti and flowers covered the floor, and giant bubbles filled with prizes floated through the halls. Prodigies ignored their parents as they dashed around popping as many as they could.

Grady and Edaline were overwhelmed by the crowd, so they went straight to where they’d meet for their first Mentor appointment and left Sophie to celebrate on her own. She made her way to the Level Four wing, deciding to drop off Fitz’s and Keefe’s presents before meeting up with her friends.

A tiny part of her had been hoping she’d find Fitz at his locker, but all she found was a long line of Level Four girls, all of whom glared at her as she added her small, teal-wrapped package to his nearly full hat. The glaring turned even uglier when she added a bright green box to Keefe’s collection.

Girls.

She kept her head down as she slunk away, hurrying back toward her own wing. Which was how she ended up plowing straight into Sir Tiergan.

“Sorry,” she exclaimed as he struggled to regain his balance. He’d been moving fast, and they’d crashed pretty hard. She rubbed her forehead where it had slammed into his elbow.

“Sophie!” He glanced around, thin lines stretched across his brow. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to drop off some gifts. Why? Is everything okay?”

He smiled, but it looked forced. “Of course. I just didn’t expect to run into you here. Especially so literally.” His smile turned real with his joke.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

Sophie’s heart sank as she turned around, expecting to find Keefe with lots of prying questions and one of his trademark smirks. And he was there. But his grin was gone, and it wasn’t he who’d spoken.

A tall, slender man in a sapphire-encrusted navy-blue cape stood next to him, studying Sophie intently. The family resemblance was striking, though Keefe’s disheveled hairstyle and untucked shirt sharply contrasted his dad’s slicked blond hair and pristine tunic.

“This must be the girl who was raised by humans,” he said, much louder than Sophie would’ve liked. “How curious to find her in the Level Four wing, talking to Foxfire’s most
infamous
Mentor.”

“Infamous?” Sophie couldn’t help asking. She glanced at Keefe, but he was staring at the ground. It was strange to see him so . . . deflated. Like he’d wilted in his father’s presence.

Keefe’s father grinned, an oily sort of smile that dripped with insincerity. “Few Mentors have resigned, then returned years later—out of the blue—to train a mystery prodigy.” He winked with the last two words, like he knew exactly who the prodigy was.

Sophie felt her cheeks flame and searched for some sort of lie. But Tiergan beat her to it.

“Interesting theory, Cassius—”

“
Lord
Cassius,” he corrected.

Tiergan’s jaw tightened. “
Lord
Cassius. But do you really think I could be tempted back by a little girl? Especially one performing so unremarkably in her sessions?”

She knew he didn’t mean it. That Tiergan was only trying to keep her telepathy hidden. But the words still stung. A lot.

“Come on, Dad,” Keefe said, looking at Sophie, not his father. His eyes radiated the apologies he couldn’t say. “I’m sure Fos—er—Sophie has somewhere she needs to be.”

Cassius glared at his son. “Yes, of course. And I need to meet with your Mentors. See how disappointing your scores will be this time.”

Keefe rolled his eyes as his father turned to Sophie with another fake smile. “Fascinating to meet you. I look very forward to seeing what you can do.”

Sophie nodded and took off down the hall without saying goodbye. She felt bad leaving Keefe and Tiergan that way, but she had to get away from that man. It wasn’t because he was intimidating—though he was definitely that. She felt sorry for Keefe, having to go home to a cold, critical father every day.

But what she really didn’t like was the way Cassius had looked at her, like he was trying to see through her. And the last thing he’d said:
I look forward to seeing what you can do.
Almost like he knew something she didn’t. Totally gave her the creeps.

It was a relief to reach the safety of the Level Two wing, which was packed with prodigies running around, popping the prize-filled bubbles. She poked a bubble floating by her locker and a box of Prattles dropped into her hands.

“Good catch,” Dex said, running up beside her. He jumped for a bubble but didn’t quite reach it. Before he could try again, Stina shoved by, raised a bony arm, and popped it.

She waved the bottle of lushberry juice in Dex’s face. “Must get frustrating being shorter than the average dwarf.”

Sophie snorted. “This coming from someone who looks like a giant lollipop. If your head gets any bigger, you’ll topple over.”

Dex cracked up.

“Awfully brave words coming from a girl who’s going to flunk out of here today,” Stina growled.

Sophie opened her mouth but couldn’t find a snappy comeback. Stina could be right, and Sophie was trying very hard not to think about that. Especially after Tiergan’s comment.

Stina giggled. “Enjoy your last day at Foxfire, loser.” She bumped Sophie into the wall and stalked away.

“Don’t let her get to you—and if Lady Galvin fails you, I’ll organize a protest.” Dex pointed to her thinking cap, which was overflowing with presents. “Look at how many people care about you here.” He frowned at his own, half-empty cap.

Sophie nudged his arm, pulled a package from her satchel—the Disneyland watch she’d been wearing when she moved to the Lost Cities. She figured he’d get a kick out of that—and dropped it in.

He grinned, flashing his dimples. “I slipped your present in before you got here.” His eyes dropped to his feet. “I hope you like it.”

“I’ll love it. Just let me drop off Biana’s gift and we’ll go to the cafeteria.”

“Ugh—why did you buy Biana a present?”

“She’s my friend.”

“Yeah, and like a month ago you guys hated each other.”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, well . . . I don’t trust her. I don’t think you should either. Why would she reach out to you for—”

Sophie shushed him as Biana entered the atrium, followed by Maruca. They looked like they were talking, but when Sophie got closer she realized they were arguing.

Biana bit her lip. “Oh, hey, Sophie.”

Maruca glared at Biana.

Sophie cleared her throat. “Sorry. I just wanted to drop this off.” She handed Biana a pink box—the charm bracelet she’d bought her—and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Biana pulled out a slim purple parcel and handed it to Sophie. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight, right?”

“Of course. I can’t wait! Well . . . I’ll see you later,” Sophie said, wondering why Maruca was glaring at her. Then again, so was Dex. “What?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot.