Keeper of the Lost Cities (29 page)

Then someone else grabbed her, cradling her in their arms. She heard some sort of discussion—an argument maybe—and then she was moving much faster. She was too far gone to make sense of it. There was a tugging in her stomach and a burning in her throat, and then she was out cold.

D
ON’T TRY TO SPEAK YET, SOPHIE,”
a familiar voice whispered as her eyes flut- tered open.

She couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Her throat chafed like sandpaper and her tongue felt like a foreign object. Her blurry eyes focused on the wild-haired head hovering over her.

“Nod if you can understand me,” Elwin instructed.

She nodded, surprised by how much energy the simple movement took.

“That’s the first good news today.” He smiled, but it didn’t erase the worry in his eyes as he held a small bottle against her lips. “I need you to swallow something for me.”

Some of it dribbled across her chin, but she managed to get most of it down.

“That’s a good girl.” He wiped her face with a soft cloth and placed a cold compress against her forehead. “Just rest for now, okay?”

She nodded again, exhausted from the effort.

The warm liquid soothed her dry throat and sent cool, tingling sensations rushing through her body. After a few minutes she could swallow normally again. “What happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Dex said you told him it was an allergy. He thinks it might be the limbium in a solution he gave you, because you’d never had it before.”

Her fuzzy memories focused. “Where is Dex?”

“I made him and Fitz wait outside till I had things under control. Things got a little too messy for spectators.”

Fitz?

She vaguely remembered stronger arms carrying her to safety. Had that been Fitz? She was about to ask when she caught what Elwin said. “Messy?”

“Don’t worry, I cleaned up all the vomit. But you need to change your shirt.”

She bolted upright. “I threw up?”

“Everywhere. Never seen anything like it. It’s always an adventure with you, isn’t it? But don’t worry, I don’t mind—and neither did Fitz. It was only his PE uniform.”

She threw up on Fitz?

“Oh no,” she wailed, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

“What’s the matter? Are you in pain?”

“No,” she moaned, trying to crawl under the blankets and disappear. She could smell the mess on her uniform now and she couldn’t decide which was worse, knowing it was on her or knowing it was on Fitz, too. “Why? Why did this have to happen?”

“I don’t know much about allergies. Never seen one before—and I can’t say I’d like to see another. Bullhorn screamed his head off when you came in. Scared the wits out of me.”

She cringed. “It was that close?”

He bit his lip. “Bullhorn’s never done that before.”

They both shivered.

“How did you know what to do?” she whispered.

“I didn’t. I just took my best guess and hoped it would work. When Bullhorn left you alone, I knew I was on the right track.”

“Well . . . thank you.” The words felt trite, considering he’d saved her life. But what else could she say?

“Just don’t ever
do that to me again! I’m going to make up a bottle of what I gave you, and I want you to keep it with you in case you ever have another reaction—and stay away from limbium.”

“I’ll try.”

He gave her one of his huge tunics and left her alone to change. Her soiled uniform went into an airtight bag to block the smell.

“You up for company?” Elwin asked when she finished. “Fitz and Dex won’t leave until they see that you’re okay.”

She sank lower in her bed and nodded, wondering how to apologize to someone for vomiting on them.

“You guys can come in,” Elwin called.

Dex rushed to her side, followed closely by Fitz.

Dex’s eyes were red and swollen. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. I had no idea you’d react like that. I’d never—”

“It’s okay, Dex,” she interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. And I’m fine now. See?” She held up her arm, showing him the blotch-free skin.

Dex let out a deep breath. “You’re really okay?”

“Yeah. Just humiliated.” She scraped together the courage to look at Fitz. He wore a fitted white undershirt, his PE tunic noticeably absent. “I’m so sorry, Fitz. I can’t believe I—”

He held up his hands and smiled his dazzling smile. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the time Alvar’s pet raptor peed all over me. Now
that
was disgusting.”

She wanted to believe him, but she was fairly sure she’d always be the girl who threw up on him. It was hard to resist the urge to crawl under a rock and disappear for a decade or two. “Still. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. I’m just glad you’re okay and I was there to help.”

Dex reeled on Fitz. “I didn’t need your help.”

“Please, you never would have made it in time.”

“I would too!” He looked to Sophie to back him up.

“I . . . don’t remember.” She wanted to spare Dex’s feelings, but deep down she knew Fitz was right. Which was a scary thought.

Dex scowled.

“Has that ever happened to you before?” Fitz asked.

“Only once—when I was nine.”

“Had you had any limbium when it happened?” Elwin asked.

“I’d never heard of it before Dex told me about it. Humans don’t have stuff like that.”

“Then what caused it last time?”

“The doctors ran a ton of tests, but they never figured it out. So they just injected me with a bunch of medicines and steroids and told me to be more careful.” She shivered at the memory of the needles.

Elwin stroked his chin. “I honestly can’t do much better. The best I can say is to stay away from limbium and wear this all the time.” He handed her a tiny black bottle hanging from a cord. “If anything like that ever happens again, drink that immediately and find me.”

“I will.” She tied the cord around her neck. “Can I go to PE now?”

“Are you crazy?” Elwin asked. “I’m taking you home to rest—don’t even think about arguing.”

She could tell he wouldn’t budge, so she slid out of bed, wobbling as the blood rushed to her head. Fitz caught and steadied her.

She blushed in his arms. “Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be on your feet yet,” Elwin scolded, grabbing her arm and wrapping it across his wide shoulders to support her. “You guys should get to session. Well, Fitz might want to hit the showers first.”

Dex snickered and Sophie hung her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Fitz smiled. “Forget it, okay?”

“I will if you will.”

“Deal.” Then Elwin stepped into the light and the warmth pulled them away.

“ELWIN?” GRADY CALLED, DROPPING EVERYTHING
when he saw them. He raced over with Edaline hot on his heels. “What’s going on?”

“I brought Sophie home to rest. She had a bit of a crisis.”

“Crisis?” Edaline sounded panicked as she ushered everyone inside, and Elwin led Sophie to the couch. “What happened?”

Sophie hid her face as Elwin gave them the full story, but she peeked through her fingers when Grady and Edaline gasped over Bullhorn screaming.

They both looked deathly pale.

“Did Bullhorn lay down beside her?” Grady asked. His voice sounded hollow. Banshees only did that when someone was on their final breaths.

“Yes,” Elwin admitted quietly. “At first he was just screaming, but then he got quiet and curled up against her chest—nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“So . . . she almost died,” Edaline whispered. Her eyes darted to Sophie, and widened. “You almost died!”

Sophie couldn’t quite hide her shiver.

Grady cleared his throat and squeezed Edaline’s hand. “She’s okay now, right?”

“She should be. She’s tough. How else could she survive so many disasters?”

Grady and Edaline didn’t smile.

“She looks so pale,” Edaline whispered. She reached for Sophie but retracted her hand before actually touching her.

“She just needs to rest. She’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I’m already back to normal,” Sophie said, hating how worried Grady and Edaline looked.

“But what if this happens again?” Edaline asked.

“It won’t,” Sophie promised.

“Is that true?” Grady asked Elwin.

“I’ll have to do some research. In the meantime, I gave her an emergency solution to keep with her. Let’s hope she won’t need it, and that it works if she does.”

They both nodded blankly.

Elwin squeezed Edaline’s arm. “She’s fine now. Once she rests and has something to eat she’ll be back to her old self.”

“I am back to my old self,” Sophie insisted.

Edaline nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.

“Well,” Grady said, turning to Elwin. “We should let you get back to work. Thank you for all you did to save her.”

“Just doing my job. Besides, Sophie’s my best patient.” He gave Sophie a small smile. “Just make your next crisis less dramatic, okay?”

“Maybe this is my last catastrophe,” she mumbled.

Elwin laughed. “You? Never.”

Grady’s lips tightened and Edaline looked at the floor. Clearly, they agreed with Elwin. Except they didn’t seem to think it was funny.

GRADY HELPED HER UP THE
stairs and Edaline brought her a bowl of brothy soup in bed, but their minds seemed to be elsewhere. When Sophie finished eating, Edaline clapped twice and the shades plunged the room into darkness. The shadowy light made them both look worn and haggard.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asked.

“We’re worried about you,” Edaline whispered, her eyes on the floor.

Sophie opened her mouth, searching for a way to convince them that she really was okay, but her soft bed and the comforting darkness turned it into a yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Grady said as he tucked her in for the first time since she’d moved in.

Maybe it was the way he wrapped the blankets extra snug. Or maybe it was Edaline handing her Ella. Or maybe it was almost dying. Whatever it was, she snuggled into her pillow feeling so much like family she couldn’t help whispering, “I love you guys,” into the silence.

But her exhausted body fell asleep before she heard their answer.

A
HIGH-PITCHED SCREECH—LIKE TIRES
squealing across pavement mixed with hun- dreds of shrieking girls—jolted Sophie out of her dreams. She threw on work clothes and rushed outside to see if Grady and Edaline needed her help.

It was still dark, but once her eyes adjusted Sophie could see an eagle-size golden pterodactyl trying to escape the leash Grady held. It somersaulted in the sky, dragging Grady like dead weight, while Edaline and the gnomes tried to calm the nearby animals.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

Sophie covered her ears. “How can I help?” she shouted to Grady.

“You shouldn’t be up. Go back to bed, Sophie. We don’t need any help.” Grady wrapped the leash around his legs for extra stability and then yanked the cord, trying to rein the creature in. The beast fought back, using speed and momentum to pull Grady over as it gained headway.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

Kinda looked like he needed help. . . .

Sophie stared at the pterodactyl, trying to figure out what to do. Two enormous golden eyes locked with hers, and as she held its gaze an image filled her mind.

Fire.

Sophie wasn’t sure how, but she knew what to do. She raced for the shed, grabbed the alchemy torch Edaline used when she made solutions for the animals, and raced back outside. A pile of dried umber leaves sat in the middle of the pasture, waiting to be dispersed to the animals for breakfast. Sophie ran straight for it and lit the mound before she could change her mind.

“What are you doing?” Edaline screamed as Sophie jumped back from the enormous blue flames that smelled uncannily like fried chicken. “Someone get some quicksnuff.”

“Just wait a second,” Sophie said, pointing to the pterodactyl, which had quieted down. “I know what I’m doing.” She
really
hoped that was true.

The creature circled once, then dived nose first into the blaze. Sophie couldn’t help shrieking as the fire engulfed its golden body, but the pterodactyl flapped its wings in the flames like a bird in a birdbath. Sophie had to back away to avoid the flying sparks.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Edaline demanded, jerking Sophie farther away from the fire. “What would possess you to do that?”

“It was cold.” Sophie pointed to the pterodactyl, still playing in the flames.

“Cold?” Grady asked, joining them. He was covered in bits of grass and mud.

“Yeah,” Sophie told him. “She needed fire.”

Grady stared at Sophie, then at the creature. “I think you’re right. I bet this is a flareadon. They have fire-resistant fur—and they have to be around flames or they’ll freeze to death. It’s why they’re so rare. But how did you know that?”

“I’m not sure, but I think . . .” She tried to replay the moment. It wasn’t a triggered memory—she’d been worried about that at first. It was more like . . .

“I think I read its mind. Is that possible?”

Grady ran his hand across his face. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anyone reading an animal’s mind before.”

“Who cares?” Edaline interrupted, her voice an octave higher than normal. “You could’ve been burned! You could’ve been killed! And you’re supposed to be in bed, resting from your last brush with death!”

Sophie backed a step away from the wild-eyed Edaline. “I was just trying to help.”

“We don’t need your help, Sophie. We need you inside—where it’s safe. Now go!” She pointed to the house.

Sophie glanced at Grady, hoping he’d defend her—she did solve the problem, after all. But Grady was too busy holding a trembling Edaline. That’s when it hit her.

Fire.

Death.

Jolie.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Sophie stammered, not sure what to say. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s fine,” Grady said, as much to Edaline as to Sophie. He turned to Sophie. “Go back inside and rest. We’ll talk in the morning.” He sounded calm and quiet. But something in his expression warned her not to push.